Substitute Wife, Genius CEO novel Chapter 334

Who could possibly resist these gorgeous, impeccably built escorts with voices that could melt butter?

They were delivering an absolute masterclass in emotional validation.

With their elite security detail standing guard, the three women threw caution to the wind and drank to their hearts' content.

Miles took the glass from Summer's hand. "Summer, pace yourself."

"Miles?"

Yates greeted her with a smile. "Summer, do you still recognize me?"

Summer peered at him through a hazy, alcohol-fueled blur. "Yates Hawthorne. My son's godfather."

"That's right. Looks like you're not completely hammered yet."

They had spotted the women the second they walked into the bar.

Each of the three women had a tall, strikingly handsome escort with eight-pack abs glued to their side.

The men kept pouring drinks, their mouths sweeter than honey, smoothly saying, 'Summer, this round is for you.'

Of course they were pushing drinks—they were earning a massive commission on every bottle the women emptied tonight.

Seeing that the girls had zero self-control, Miles had no choice but to intervene.

Setting Summer's glass down, Miles shifted his gaze to Vivian. His deep eyes were fraught with complex, tightly restrained emotion. "Ms. West, you should stop drinking too."

Vivian smiled carelessly. "Well, if it isn't Mr. Sutton."

As she spoke, she downed the rest of her drink in one smooth gulp. The escort beside her immediately cheered, "You're amazing!"

Vivian smiled, trailing her hand over the escort's abs before pressing a thick stack of bills into his chest, signaling him to pour another round.

Miles' eyes darkened menacingly. He slammed his hand over the top of her glass. "Get lost."

The escort looked over at Vivian. "Who is this guy? He's so aggressive."

Vivian laughed, keeping her hand on the escort. "We don't know him. Just ignore him."

Miles' face twisted into a storm of absolute fury. "I said, get the hell out of here!"

The three escorts were extremely reluctant to leave. It wasn't every day they scored clients of this caliber—gorgeous, obscenely wealthy, and perfectly polite. The most they did was touch their abs; they weren't demanding anything sleazy.

Miles' bodyguards didn't give them a choice. They stepped forward and forcefully dragged the escorts away.

Watching the scene unfold, Yates picked up on the heavy undercurrents. With a charming smile, he suggested, "Since we all know each other, why don't we merge tables? It'll be more fun."

Miles kept his eyes locked on Vivian, desperately hiding a fragile sliver of hope in his gaze.

Vivian threw her arms around Summer and Tessa's shoulders, flashing a brilliant smile as she flat-out rejected him. "Sorry, tonight is strictly a girls' night. No stinky men allowed."

Yates, a man perfectly comfortable playing the fool, instantly pitched his voice up in a dramatic, exaggerated tone. "But Mr. Sutton and I can be your girlfriends too! Isn't that right, Mr. Sutton?"

Miles gave a stiff, awkward nod. "Yes."

"Still a no." Vivian arched a perfect eyebrow. "I'm allergic to scumbags."

Who was the scumbag?

Vivian didn't even know Yates, which meant the insult was aimed squarely at Miles.

Yates studied the two of them with immense curiosity. There was definitely a massive history there.

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