He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 10

Instantly, Jevon grabbed Huxley by the shoulder and violently slammed him back into his chair.

"Calm down, man. We're here to drink and have a good time. Relax."

Huxley shot her a deeply venomous glare before aggressively downing his scotch.

The other heirs, sensing the explosive tension, quickly raised their own glasses in a loud toast.

"I heard your new movie is a massive franchise tentpole! With Nyssa headlining, it's guaranteed to break records! Cheers to that!"

They were all vicious, smiling predators. The friendlier they acted to your face, the faster they would slit your throat in the dark. Working together to systematically build someone up just to brutally destroy them was their favorite blood sport.

Huxley drank everything pushed his way. Five glasses of straight liquor later, he was completely trashed and loudly bragging about his supposed empire.

Ottilie reached for her bowl of dessert, only to find Yorath had calmly pulled it over and eaten every last drop of it himself.

Feeling her stare, Yorath casually picked up the ladle and served her a fresh bowl.

Her appetite instantly died, and she didn't touch a single bite.

By the time the dinner ended, Huxley was so blackout drunk he had vomited twice and had to be physically dragged out by two waiters. Somehow, while stumbling down the grand staircase, he spectacularly tripped and violently tumbled all the way to the marble lobby floor. His leg snapped completely in half. An ambulance arrived and rushed him straight to the emergency room.

Outside the restaurant, Yorath sat comfortably in the back of his Bentley. The heavy door was open, and Ottilie stood on the pavement.

"Get in. I'm dropping you off," he commanded.

"I'll call an Uber. I don't want to be an inconvenience."

She immediately pulled up her app and requested a ride.

The Bentley's door remained open, his deep voice carrying out into the night. "Huxley will never bother you again."

"Thank you, Mr. Fordham," she replied, offering a stiff, polite nod.

"If you ever need anything, call me."

"I think it's best if we sever all contact."

A suffocating silence hung in the humid air for a few agonizing seconds before the automatic door slid completely shut. The car merged silently into traffic and disappeared into the night.

She typed back instantly: *I would be honored.*

He didn't ask a single question about the vicious internet headlines. He was impossibly kind and perceptive.

Knowing it was a celebration, she couldn't show up empty-handed. She scraped together her last few dollars and bought him a small, intricate solar system crystal globe from a street vendor. When plugged in, it projected a beautiful, mesmerizing swirl of galaxies and shooting stars across the room.

They met at a casual, bustling chain restaurant on the fourth floor of the local mall, where a meal cost no more than twenty dollars a person. They ordered a spread of comforting, familiar local favorites.

Before the food arrived, Yves slid a thick white envelope across the table toward her. "Take this. Let me know if you need more."

She peeked inside to find a solid stack of hundred-dollar bills. She immediately pushed it back. "Thank you. But if I ever truly need help, I promise I'll ask."

Yves smiled, a bittersweet sadness in his eyes. "Ottilie, I genuinely want to take care of you. I'm falling for you. I want to build a life with you. If you let me in, you'll never have to struggle like this again. Don't you want a place to finally call home?"

If she was completely honest, the offer was intoxicatingly tempting. Her frozen heart actively skipped a beat.

"I want a home more than anything," she admitted softly. "But I have something very dangerous I need to finish first. If I survive this... and you still want me... I'll marry you."