He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 187

Still lost in her swirling thoughts, Ottilie forgot to duck and knocked her head hard against the car's doorframe.

Yorath and Jevon, who were walking right behind her, both stopped to watch.

She forced an awkward smile and quickly slid into the backseat.

Settling into the passenger side, Jevon sneered. "Honestly, Yorath. With her level of intelligence, do you really think she can handle being the wife of a powerful family?"

Yorath gently inspected her forehead. The skin was flawless and smooth; there wasn't even a mark.

"It doesn't matter if she can handle it or not. All she has to do is love me. Nothing else is important."

"What do you even see in her?" Jevon muttered.

He shot another dirty look at her reflection in the rearview mirror.

She was nothing but a manipulative, destructive temptress.

"She's perfect," Yorath said flatly.

Jevon glanced back at her one more time.

What was she doing staring at her lap like that?

She wasn't even giving him the satisfaction of eye contact!

His phone suddenly rang. It was Nyssa.

He answered immediately, his tone softening. "Nyssa, what's up?"

"Jevon, Mrs. Fordham invited me to her welcome-home dinner tonight. But the paparazzi cornered me on set, so I had Kendrick Walden drive my car away as a decoy. Now I'm stranded out here alone. Could you come pick me up so we can go to the estate together?"

"Of course. Send me your location, I'm on my way."

When it came to Nyssa, Jevon was completely subservient.

Hanging up, he turned to the driver. "Soren, detour to this address and pick up Nyssa."

Soren glanced at the GPS coordinates, then caught his boss's eye in the mirror.

He worked strictly for Yorath; he wasn't about to take orders from anyone else.

Even if Jevon and Yorath were as close as brothers.

"Have Yvonne handle it," Yorath instructed.

"Right! I completely forgot Yvonne was following us," Jevon realized.

He forwarded the drop pin to the assistant and quickly dialed Nyssa back.

"Nyssa, I'm having Yvonne swing by to grab you."

"Why aren't you coming?" she asked, her voice dipping into a pitiful whine. "The wind is freezing tonight. I'm so cold."

Jevon, ever the charmer, offered an elegant bow.

"Mrs. Fordham, wishing you endless health, eternal youth, and a life of a thousand years."

Marcella threw her head back, laughing warmly at his flattery.

"You always know exactly what to say, Jevon. Take a look at the lovely ladies here tonight—if anyone catches your eye, I'll happily make the introduction."

He offered a dazzling, gentlemanly smile to the blushing heiresses, looking every bit the refined aristocrat.

His polite public persona was light-years away from the vicious attack dog he was with Ottilie.

Only then did Marcella shift her attention to her son.

"Didn't I tell you to bring Ms. Nyssa with you? She was so incredibly attentive to me while I was in the hospital."

"She's in another car just behind us. She'll be arriving shortly," Yorath replied smoothly.

He then gently pulled his companion forward. "Tilly, say hello to my mother."

Ottilie gave a polite, measured nod. "Good evening, Mrs. Fordham."

Marcella's smile was the picture of gentle condescension.

"Good evening, Ms. Sewell. I've watched your shows—you're quite the entertainer. I heard you're trained in dance. Do you think we could be so lucky as to have you put on a little performance for us?"