The Ex-Wife He Can’t Have novel Chapter 127

In a secluded VIP lounge nearby, Mallory was backed into a corner.

Preston Pierce towered over her, his imposing figure blocking her escape. The aura radiating from him was dangerously oppressive.

Mallory crossed her arms, a careless, lazy smirk playing on her lips. "What's the matter, Mr. Pierce? Couldn't find a date tonight, so you're bored and need me to entertain you?"

Preston's eyes darkened with predatory scrutiny. He slowly raked his gaze over her from head to toe, his voice cold and hard. "Does that charity project of yours still need funding?"

"It sure does," Mallory replied without missing a beat, raising an eyebrow at him. "If you want to donate, be my guest. I could tell you had a heart of gold the second I saw you."

Preston's lips parted slightly as he delivered a deeply humiliating offer. "Take off a piece of clothing, and I'll donate ten grand."

The smirk on Mallory's face instantly vanished. Without hesitation, she raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face.

The sharp crack echoed violently through the dead-silent room.

Preston pushed his tongue against the inside of his bruised cheek. He slowly raised a hand to touch his face, the dark hostility in his eyes intensifying. "So you do know what shame is."

Mallory's dazzling smile returned effortlessly. Not losing an ounce of her arrogant charm, she replied smoothly, "I just think ten grand a piece is a pathetic lowball. My outfit alone is worth a hundred grand."

Preston stared intensely at her defiant face, his tone flat. "A hundred grand a piece, then."

Mallory let out a soft laugh. Reaching into her clutch, she pulled out a business card and seductively slipped it into the breast pocket of his tailored suit, giving his chest a patronizing pat. "Too many eyes out there. It's not appropriate. If you're really in the mood, book a room and wait for me."

Out in the corridor.

Jillian still couldn't find Mallory, and her calls were going straight to voicemail. Anxiety began to gnaw at her.

She knew Mallory too well. She always acted fearless and bold, but the moment she had a little too much to drink, she turned incredibly clumsy and absent-minded.

Unable to shake the worry, Jillian began checking the surrounding areas, looking for anyone who might have seen her.

"Jillian."

Gibson Xavier's voice suddenly called out from behind her.

Her feelings toward Gibson were hopelessly complicated right now.

In the past, she only knew him as Sylvia's older brother. But now she knew the truth—he was her father's stepson.

Over the years, to secure his place with Madeline, Silas had poured all of his affection and devotion onto Gibson and Sylvia.

The fatherly love she had desperately craved and fought her entire life to earn, Gibson had received effortlessly.

To Jillian, Gibson was a thief who had stolen everything that was supposed to be hers. She could never bring herself to just let it go.

"If there's nothing else, I'll be leaving now." Jillian turned to walk away.

"Wait." Gibson suddenly reached out and grabbed her arm. He seemed unsure of what to say, struggling to find the right words.

At that exact moment, the sharp clicking of heels echoed from the end of the hallway.

Both of them turned their heads. Standing a few feet away was Natalie, her eyes locked dead onto Jillian, practically burning with pure, unadulterated jealousy.