The Platonic Trap novel Chapter 37

The melodic ringtone echoed softly through the expansive executive office.

The top floor of Zucker Corp boasted a wall of glass that offered an uninterrupted, sweeping view of the capital's glittering skyline.

The ambient glow of the city caught Alistair's tailored, deep crimson suit, highlighting his broad shoulders and commanding, lean physique.

"Sir, it's Ms. Stafford."

Ken announced it carefully.

Alistair didn't reply. He stood with his hands casually slipped into his pockets, turning his head slightly to look at Ken.

Understanding the silent command, Ken immediately answered the call.

"Hello? Ms. Stafford, how—"

"Where are you?"

Before Ken could finish, a soft, heavily slurred voice drifted through the speaker.

"Excuse me?" Ken blinked, glancing nervously at Alistair before asking gently, "Ms. Stafford, what did you say?"

On the other end, Celia's voice wavered. "Driver... where are you? Why aren't you here to pick me up yet?"

Ken rubbed the back of his neck, venturing a careful guess. "Ms. Stafford, have you... been drinking?"

"Yeah, obviously. That's why I didn't drive," she replied, her tone deadly serious. "Sir, did you take a wrong turn?"

"Ms. Stafford, I think you dialed the wrong—"

Before Ken could finish the sentence, the phone was smoothly plucked from his hand.

Alistair's gaze was freezing cold as he turned back to the window, letting the fractured neon lights wash over his sharp profile.

"Give me the address."

--

The Elysian Club.

Hanging up the phone, Celia lounged back on the plush sofa of her private suite, a lazy smile playing on her lips.

Talbot looked visibly irritated. Hearing his friends stroke his ego, he scoffed coldly. "She's been throwing a tantrum lately. I'm sick of it."

His friends immediately started jeering. "Ooh, look at Ms. Stafford growing a spine! She actually dares to give you attitude now?"

Clearly disgusted by the topic, Talbot pushed his way to the front and threw the suite doors open.

The sudden intrusion of harsh hallway light made Celia narrow her eyes as she looked toward the entrance.

The group hadn't spotted her sitting in the dim corner yet, and they kept running their mouths.

"Speaking of which, it's your birthday today. Did she even get you anything?"

"Yeah, usually she's throwing expensive watches and reservations at you. Why is it so quiet this year?"

Talbot's face darkened, his voice laced with venom. "Like I'd want anything from her anyway."

The group erupted into laughter.

"If my memory serves me right," a cool, detached voice cut through the noise. Stepping out of the shadows, Celia appeared before them, the white chiffon of her dress practically glowing in the dim light. "This is my private suite."