Larissa's Game of Thrones (Larissa) novel Chapter 582

An hour later, Honora was escorted into the VIP lounge. She started to move toward the empty seat beside Lucius, but a single, sharp glance from him froze her in her tracks. She stood before him meekly.

“Explain Trudy’s disappearance,” Lucius demanded, his voice flat and cold.

Honora relayed the events exactly as she knew them. “Trudy left to chase after a woman who had escaped. Now, both of them have vanished without a trace.”

Lucius’s eyes darkened, becoming deep and unreadable pools.

Who in all of Regal City would dare to so brazenly touch one of his people?

It could only be one of two individuals: Haskell Palmer or Larissa Judson.

And at this point, it didn't matter which one it was. Those two were in this together now.

With a sudden clench of his fist, the wine glass in his hand shattered, sending shards and crimson liquid spilling across his fingers.

Honora rushed forward. “Mr. Lincoln, your hand!”

She reached for a napkin, but he cut her off with a low growl. “Get out.”

Her hand froze mid-air. Forcing a brittle smile, she said, “…Of course. Please, have your assistant clean that for you.”

Once Honora had fled the room, Lucius asked his assistant in a dangerously quiet voice, “Have you found any trace of them?”

The assistant handed Lucius a clean handkerchief. “Not yet, sir.”

He paused for a moment before continuing. “However, if you’re looking for a way to vent your anger, I do have some news. Rigby, the actor who was dropped by Gale Entertainment, immediately went to audition at Starlight Media. Larissa personally cast him.”

Lucius’s gaze turned impossibly dark. He took the handkerchief and slowly, deliberately, wiped the wine from his hand.

“Is that so… He knew perfectly well that Starlight and Gale are rivals, yet he ran straight to the enemy. It seems,” he said, a cruel smile touching his lips, “it’s time to make an example of someone.”

...

Kenric, the director he had punched on set.

The blood drained from Rigby’s face. His body trembled as he instinctively tried to slam the door shut.

He was too slow. Two burly thugs at Kenric’s side shot their hands out, catching the door and easily forcing it back.

Rigby paled, knowing this wasn't going to end well.

A cold smirk spread across Kenric’s face. He pushed the door wide open and stared at Rigby with pure, venomous hatred.

“What are you hiding from, Rigby?” he sneered. “You were so tough when you hit me on set. What happened? Seeing me now, you look like a frightened little gutter rat.”

Rigby clenched his jaw but said nothing. He wasn't afraid of Kenric, but Sire was still unconscious in the other room. He couldn’t risk anything happening to him, and he knew he couldn’t take on this many men by himself.

“Mr. Lincoln, this is Rigby,” Kenric said, turning respectfully toward a figure standing near the stairwell.