He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 42

Yorath arrived at the club at eleven in the morning.

The owner personally rushed out to greet him.

Standing by the door to the VIP room, he pleaded, "Mr. Fordham, I'm just running a small business here. Please, do me a favor—don't let anyone get killed on my premises."

Yorath gave him a cold, sweeping glance and pushed the door open.

The moment he stepped inside, everyone in the room scrambled to their feet.

Jevon walked over to him. "The footage from the cameras has already been edited and sent to your phone."

Yorath nodded, parting the crowd and taking a seat at the head of the table.

The man standing closest to him immediately and respectfully offered him a cigarette, lighting it for him.

Having stayed awake all night, Yorath's usual elegant composure was completely gone. A brutal, violent aura seeped from his very bones.

He spoke with a careless, deadly calm. "Who touched my woman?"

Huxley leaned on his crutches, hobbling over with a placating smile.

"Brother-in-law, this really has nothing to do with us. Nyssa found out Shawn was arrested. She was worried Ms. Sewell would be in a tough spot, so she had her family bail him out. Shawn insisted on thanking me, and he's the one who brought her here. By the way, Shawn is her biological brother."

Shawn might have been a bit foolish, but he wasn't completely brain-dead.

During the agonizing wait in the locked room—where no one dared to even breathe too loudly—he had slowly realized that Yorath was someone even Huxley couldn't afford to cross.

But the deed was done. If he tried to pin the blame on Huxley now, he'd alienate both sides. Worse, they might team up and ensure he rotted in prison forever.

Rather than making enemies everywhere, it was better to stand firm on one side.

Right now, his only viable option was Huxley.

If he took the fall for this, Huxley would definitely find a way to bail him out.

As long as he survived, there would be opportunities to make a comeback.

He had fallen in love with Nyssa at first sight. This was the only way he could ever earn the right to marry her.

The drug was Fever Pitch 39.8. One sip was enough to make a man lose his mind with lust.

Three bottles would kill him several times over.

The door swung open again, and James Sewell and his wife, Marie, were politely ushered inside.

Taking in the grim scene, they cowered in the corner, too terrified to approach.

"Mr. and Mrs. Sewell, I assume you've already been briefed on what happened last night," Yorath said smoothly. "Here is the situation: your son can either go to the police and face the full extent of the law, or he can voluntarily drink these three bottles. Do that, and last night's incident is wiped clean."

Though James didn't know exactly what was in the bottles, he knew it couldn't be good.

Trembling, he shuffled over to Yorath and bowed deeply.

"Mr. Fordham, I'm begging you, please spare my boy. He was just confused and made a mistake. He has a good heart; he didn't truly mean to hurt Ottilie."

Yorath's voice dropped to a glacial register. "He dragged a young woman into a room full of men by force and shoved three spiked drinks down her throat. Your own daughter was treated like a piece of meat, and you think that's a simple mistake?"