He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 209

To ensure there was zero ambiguity, he pointed to the exact clauses, reading them to her word by painful word.

Ottilie sat in absolute silence.

When he finished, she finally whispered, "So... the termination was never processed in the first place?"

"Without your signature on a revised agreement, the original contract remains ironclad," Soren replied cleanly.

She nodded slowly.

She had been such an idiot.

Yorath was a legal prodigy.

He would never leave a loophole for her to slip through.

She had plotted and schemed, only to end up as the punchline to his sick joke.

Soren placed a pristine hotel keycard on the table.

"Tonight at seven o'clock, Ms. Sewell. Be punctual. A single failure to comply means we move forward with the litigation process."

With a crisp nod, he took two steps back and exited the apartment.

Ottilie stared dead-eyed at the piece of plastic for a long time.

Finally, she snatched it up, snapped it in half, and tossed it into the trash.

She arrived at the luxury hotel at six-thirty.

Yorath's exclusive suite was located here.

A four-thousand-dollar-a-night penthouse strictly used for entertaining elite guests.

Approaching the front desk, she said, "I'm looking for Mr. Fordham."

The five-star hospitality was impeccable. A beautiful, soft-spoken receptionist smiled gently.

"Do you have a reservation?"

"No."

Their arrangement was purely verbal; it wouldn't be on the hotel's registry.

"I apologize, but I cannot authorize your entry."

With practiced courtesy, she escorted Ottilie to a waiting area in the lobby.

At six-fifty, the lobby manager rushed out, personally holding the main doors open.

"Welcome back, Mr. Fordham."

Ottilie turned to see Yorath stride in.

His tall, elegant frame commanded the room.

His aura was impeccably clean, though his face was slightly pale—perhaps his injuries hadn't fully healed.

Acknowledging the manager with a curt nod, he walked in.

She stood up and called out softly, "Yorath."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over her simple white tee, black jeans, and makeup-free face.

"Why didn't you head up?"

Lachlan and Hayden froze, locking eyes with Yorath.

Yorath didn't utter a single word. He simply walked right past them like they were invisible.

Ottilie trailed silently behind him like a chastised servant.

Suddenly, Lachlan grabbed her arm.

"Ottilie, if you don't want to do this, I can get you out of here."

Yorath stopped and looked back, staring dead-eyed at the hand clamped around her wrist. He said nothing.

Ottilie offered a dry smile.

"Are you going to pay off my twenty-billion debt? Even if you broke down my body and sold my cells individually, I wouldn't be worth a fraction of that."

Releasing his grip, Lachlan stepped back.

"If he forces you, I can call the police."

Rubbing her bruised skin, she shook her head.

"It's fine."

The moment the suite door clicked shut, Yorath seized her and violently dragged her into the bedroom.

"Yorath... calm down. Just listen to me."

Ripping off his tie, he brutally bound her wrists to the heavy headboard and wordlessly began stripping her clothes off.

Exposed to the freezing air conditioning, she began to shiver violently.