No Sex for Six Years Because of Her? I'm Done novel Chapter 40

**My Heart Waited Too Long and Choosing Freedom**
**Chapter 40: Ethan Ignored Her**

The atmosphere was thick with tension as the evening unfolded. Amelia found herself cornered at the table, her heart racing as she tried to maintain her composure. The rotund figure of Steven Decker loomed before her, his bald head glistening under the dim lights, and his beady eyes fixated on her as if she were a prize to be won.

“Oh? You design evening gowns?” he exclaimed, an unsettling grin spreading across his face. “What a delightful coincidence! I was just pondering the idea of outfitting all the women in our company with custom gowns as uniforms.” His voice dripped with insincerity, and Amelia felt her stomach churn at the thought.

With a heavy heart, she withdrew her hand from the table, lowering her gaze to the polished surface. “Do you have a particular style in mind, Mr. Decker?” she managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Style…” he mused, his smile widening in a way that sent shivers down her spine. “I prefer something fresh and daring. Perhaps a high slit, something that accentuates the body.” His gaze roamed over her V-neck sweater, and he added, his tone suggestive, “For instance, Ms. Harlow, if your neckline were a tad lower, it would be absolutely perfect.”

Laughter erupted from the men seated around the table, a chorus of knowing chuckles that made Amelia’s skin crawl.

Beatrice, ever the sycophant, chimed in, “Mr. Decker, your taste is truly one of a kind!” She nudged Amelia playfully, as if trying to coax a response from her.

“Amelia, did you catch that? Mr. Decker is being generous and supporting your business. You ought to at least raise a toast and express your gratitude.”

A wave of nausea washed over Amelia as she felt the weight of Beatrice’s words. Anger and disgust churned within her; the gowns Steven envisioned were an affront to her craft, a mockery of her artistry. Yet, the immense debt she owed to the Harlows for raising her hung over her like a storm cloud. She couldn’t simply walk away.

With a deep breath, she forced a smile, picked up the glass of juice in front of her, and said, “Thank you, Mr. Decker. I’ll raise a toast to you.”

“Wait!” Beatrice interjected, her brow furrowing in disapproval. “Everyone else is drinking alcohol. Why are you having juice? That’s quite rude!” Without waiting for Amelia’s consent, she summoned a waiter and swapped her drink for a glass of hard liquor.

The clear liquid swirled enticingly, but the sharp, biting aroma it exuded made Amelia’s stomach twist.

Under the relentless encouragement of Steven and Beatrice, she closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and downed the drink in one swift motion.

The fiery liquid seared its way down her throat, igniting a blaze in her stomach that made her eyes water and her cheeks flush with heat.

“Bravo! Ms. Harlow is quite the daring one!” Steven applauded, his voice dripping with mockery. He began to push more drinks her way, each one a thinly veiled attempt to further ensnare her in his web of manipulation.

Amelia was no stranger to alcohol, but she wasn’t accustomed to drinking in such a hostile environment. After a few glasses, the world around her began to spin, the faces of the men blurring into an indistinct haze. Yet, their predatory intentions were all too clear.

If she didn’t find a way to escape this suffocating situation, something far more repugnant could unfold.

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