Next Man, Better Plan novel Chapter 183

Feeling the warmth of Jonathan's breath on her neck, Stephanie instinctively tilted her head away but said nothing.

The sky had already turned dark. Jonathan had only taken a few steps with her in his arms when they ran into a security guard on patrol.

The guard shone his flashlight in their direction.

Stephanie buried her face in Jonathan’s chest, not daring to show herself. This was utterly mortifying—being carried around in the middle of the night, half-dressed…

It was social suicide.

The guard greeted Jonathan cordially. “Mr. Vasquez.”

“Are you… ah, I didn’t see anything.”

Stephanie wanted to disappear.

What a huge misunderstanding. Shouldn't this guard be focused on his job instead of letting his imagination run wild?

She tightened her grip on the button of Jonathan's shirt, trying to signal him with her eyes to hurry up and leave.

How could she ever show her face around here again?

To her horror, Jonathan’s lips curved into a half-smile. “My wife and I just got married,” he said with a chuckle. “We get a little carried away sometimes.”

As he spoke, he deliberately tightened his hold on the woman in his arms.

Stephanie’s two slender legs dangled from under the blanket, suspended in mid-air. It was obvious she was naked underneath, yet the high heels still on her feet made the scene even more suggestive.

Even the guard couldn't help but blush. This wasn't something he should be seeing. He quickly looked down and played along. “Of course, of course… it’s perfectly normal.”

As soon as they were inside, Stephanie kicked off her shoes and fled upstairs, her entire body flushed pink with embarrassment.

Even with her usual composure, she couldn’t handle Jonathan destroying her reputation like this.

However, she quickly regained her cool.

She went to the bathroom and soaked her entire body in the tub.

The soothing warmth enveloped her, and she closed her eyes in comfort.

Staring at the screen, Jonathan’s expression froze. “Rewind that.”

The guard did as he was told, dragging the cursor back.

He replayed the short clip—just a few frames—dozens of times. On the monitor, Quennel was slapped by Stephanie over and over again.

Her strike was swift, precise, and ruthless, with no hint of hesitation or lingering affection. Watching Quennel get slapped from every conceivable angle, the light finally returned to Jonathan’s deep eyes.

After what felt like the hundredth replay, the guard next to him yawned.

What strange habits did these rich people have? Staying up all night just to watch a video of someone getting slapped.

“Mr. Vasquez, how about I clip this section and send it to your phone?”

That way, he could enjoy it at home. The guard was getting sleepy, and he still had his shift to finish.

Jonathan opened the screenshot on his phone showing the two of them in an embrace. “If this is what really happened, why did you send me this?”

The guard looked innocent. “...I just screenshotted a random frame.”