He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 44

Everyone in the room sucked in a sharp breath.

They had called for backup hours ago. What the hell was happening outside?

There was no way they could drink that spiked liquor!

Huxley's fake smile finally cracked. "Mr. Fordham, given the relationship between our families, do you really have to make things this ugly?"

"Since when do I have a relationship with your family?" Yorath signaled again.

Jevon stepped up with the bodyguards, picked up a tray, and delivered a bottle right under Huxley's nose.

"Mr. Tarrant, Yorath is a man of impeccable manners. He believes in returning favors. You really should just drink up and save us all the awkwardness."

Huxley's face turned a sickening shade of gray. His teeth ground together so loudly they clicked.

His mind raced, weighing the odds.

He could grab the bottle right now, smash it over Yorath's head, completely sever ties, and end this once and for all.

It wasn't like Yorath could literally murder him.

But if he did that, it would irreparably damage Yorath's relationship with his sister.

He wouldn't be able to justify it to his father, either.

Their family had painstakingly clawed their way back into these elite social circles by riding the Fordhams' coattails. A complete fallout wouldn't just be his own personal loss.

It would ruin their entire family's master plan for a grand comeback.

Fuck. Which little rat ratted us out?

Otherwise, there was no way Yorath could have shown up so fast.

If he had arrived just a few minutes later, Ottilie would have been completely at their mercy.

Catching her tangled up with so many men... a man as proud as Yorath would never have wanted her again.

When the time came, Huxley would have simply dragged her home, kept her locked up until he grew bored, and then tossed her to the curb.

After all, who would ever believe the ramblings of a traumatized, ruined woman?

It was just a near miss. A frustratingly close call.

But Huxley absolutely could not drink this bottle.

He had been on heavy medication for a long time due to his leg injury. Mixing it with this drug could legitimately kill him.

Without another word, he marched straight up to his son and delivered a vicious backhand across his face.

"You worthless piece of trash! You've already got a crippled leg, and you're still out here causing trouble for Yorath? If you weren't my flesh and blood, you'd be rotting in a prison cell for the rest of your miserable life!"

Huxley kept his head bowed, instantly taking the out he had been given.

"I was wrong, Dad. I'm deeply sorry, Mr. Fordham. Please accept my apologies."

He then forced a bright, sycophantic smile and nodded at Yorath. "Mr. Fordham, I take full responsibility for failing to stop Shawn earlier and letting Ms. Sewell ingest that drink. It was my oversight. I'll personally cook a meal and invite you over to apologize properly."

Gideon snorted in disgust. "Get out of my sight. Don't stand here being an eyesore."

Huxley didn't need to be told twice. He spun around and scrambled toward the exit.

The other heirs watched him with burning envy, desperate to flee as well, but with Yorath still silent, none dared to move an inch.

Just as Huxley was about to cross the threshold, Yorath's quiet voice sliced through the tension. "Wait."

Huxley froze in the doorway, too scared to turn around.

Gideon's expression tightened, but he maintained his dignified smile. "Is there a problem?"

"It's such a minor issue," Yorath said smoothly. "There was no need for you to make the trip down here personally, my mentor. A simple phone call would have sufficed. We're practically family. Would I really make things difficult for your son?"