He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 8

Their faces were inches apart. Looking down, she stared fixedly at the heavy, pulsing artery in his neck, currently swollen with vulgar excitement. It throbbed with vigorous, vital life.

Back in the psych ward, she had once watched a completely unhinged patient latch his teeth right onto an orderly's neck, violently tearing that exact artery open. The man had bled out before the crash cart even arrived.

A terrifying itch built up in the roots of her teeth.

Huxley suddenly noticed the deeply unsettling, predatory void in her eyes. It was a look that felt capable of sucking the marrow straight from his bones.

Thoroughly spooked, he aggressively shoved her away. "Trying to seduce me right here? You're a disgusting whore."

The force of the shove nearly sent her crashing to the floorboards.

The limo jerked to a halt outside an elite club. He yanked her out by the wrist, physically dragging her toward the golden doors.

Stumbling in her cheap shoes, she was forced into the elevator up to the private fifth-floor VIP suites.

When the doors slid open, a crowd of immaculate, impossibly wealthy heirs was waiting in the lobby. Yorath stood firmly in the epicenter, radiating absolute power while the others clamored desperately for his attention. He only offered them the occasional, indifferent nod.

Huxley's face lit up with desperate fawning joy. He practically dragged her forward. "Yorath! It's been too long!"

Yorath lifted his eyes, immediately landing on Ottilie’s torn blouse, exposed shoulder, and violently disheveled hair. Tears were pooled in her hollow eyes, and a fresh red welt from Huxley's hand glared angrily across her cheek.

His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, and his mouth flattened into a razor-thin line.

Oblivious to the sudden drop in temperature, Huxley laughed. "Nyssa is twenty-four now. My family already has everything sorted. When are you making it official?"

Yorath's lethal gaze shifted to Huxley's face, and he smiled. It was a terrifying smile.

"And what exactly is this, Huxley?" He glanced dismissively at Ottilie.

Ottilie stared blankly into the crowd, seeing nothing but pure, unadulterated revulsion in their eyes. Every single drop of their collective venom was aimed directly at her throat.

"Wow, she upgraded to a new sugar daddy fast," Elian Zouch mocked loudly.

"The industry's most notorious gold digger still clearly knows how to work a room!" another heir jeered.

Ottilie used to genuinely believe this cruelty was just the natural arrogance billionaires held against normal people. But she eventually realized they only treated her like garbage because Yorath had never treated her like a human being.

If he had ever shown her even a fraction of genuine respect, not a single one of these men would have ever dared to look at her sideways.

Her lips curved into a dark smirk. She opened her mouth to fire back, but Yorath subtly raised two fingers, instantly silencing the entire hallway.

He turned to his executive assistant. "Soren, go down to the car and grab a change of clothes."