He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 53

Jevon gritted his teeth in fury, turning to Yorath. "Yorath, she's completely out of control!"

Yorath didn't even look up, casually flipping a page of the document in his hands. "If she doesn't want to, why force her?"

Jevon scoffed, looking away in a sulk.

After finishing the document, Yorath stood up and walked over to Ottilie. "What do you want to eat? I'll make it for you."

"I want some soup, a cucumber salad, and some shrimp."

"Alright." Yorath went into the kitchen and soon brought out the dishes she had requested. "Fresh off the stove."

He was always like this—so attentive, ensuring she felt his gentleness in every moment.

But when that gentleness had long ago morphed into a knife that pierced straight through her heart, she couldn't even feel the pain anymore.

"Thank you, Yorath."

Ottilie sat down to eat.

Yorath stood beside her, placing choice pieces of food onto her plate. "Did you look over the contract?"

"I'll look at it when I have time. Have the termination papers started processing?" Ottilie hadn't checked her email yet, so she wasn't sure if Lachlan had actually sent his contract.

But she wasn't in a rush, nor was she worried Lachlan would sell her out.

Lachlan was Yorath's sworn enemy; he was the type who wouldn't be satisfied until he had stabbed Yorath a hundred times over.

There was no way Lachlan would pass up a golden opportunity to mess with his rival!

As for her current contract with Yorath, she would just drag it out.

Once the termination went through, she would have absolutely nothing to do with him ever again.

Oh, right—she still owed him his legal fees for that one night.

"Yeah, it should take about a week," Yorath said, taking a seat beside her. "There's a meeting tonight. You should come along and see what it's about."

"Okay."

It was the largest conference room on the cruise ship, capable of holding hundreds of people.

Right now, it was packed to the brim.

The major power players of the entertainment industry were all present, their entourages in tow.

Yorath was the last to arrive. He held Ottilie's hand, their fingers intertwined, as he led her to their seats.

Yorath's agency was small, consisting only of Nyssa and Ottilie.

Sitting directly behind them were Jevon, Soren, and a few close friends.

Across the table sat Lachlan Schmidt, idly twirling a pair of nail clippers in his hand.

"Gentlemen," Yorath began, his voice commanding the room. "I appreciate you all giving me face and attending Nyssa's birthday celebration. Now that the festivities are over, there's a minor matter to address. My artist, Ottilie Sewell, will be making her return to the entertainment industry starting today. I trust you will all extend her your grace."

The moment the words left his mouth, Huxley Tarrant slammed his hands on the table and stood up.

"Absolutely not! She blinded one of Nyssa's eyes, set fire to the studio, got Heath's legs crushed by a falling pillar, cost Warren's son his life, and burned several crew members alive! Dying a hundred times wouldn't be enough to atone for her sins! And now you want her to just casually stroll back into the industry? I'll be the first to reject this!"