The Platonic Trap novel Chapter 38

The second Celia stepped into the light, every eye in the room snapped to her.

Tonight, she looked breathtaking in a pure, elegant chiffon dress, cinched at the waist with a delicate pearl chain that accentuated her perfect curves.

The sultry, dim lighting of the suite washed over her, making her radiant features look utterly mesmerizing.

Talbot's obnoxious friends froze, completely losing their train of thought.

Talbot was the first to recover.

He raised an eyebrow, a smug, arrogant smirk curling his lips. "And here I thought you actually had the guts to forget my birthday."

Birthday?

Celia blinked in genuine confusion for a second before the realization hit her: Oh, right. Today probably *was* his birthday.

Like she cared.

"This is my suite," Celia repeated, her tone making it painfully clear she wanted them gone.

Looking at how beautifully she was dressed, Talbot assumed she had gone all out just to impress him, despite her 'tantrum.'

Rubbing his eyes in exaggerated exhaustion, he sighed impatiently. "Celia, can we just drop this? I'm really tired of fighting with you."

"You were jealous of Evelyn. Fine. The university put a strike on her record, and I even transferred some of my shares to you as an apology. What more do you possibly want?"

Celia glanced down at her phone to check the time.

—She really didn't want to waste her breath on these idiots. Alistair was the only prize that mattered tonight.

"Take your friends and get out," Celia said, her voice dropping to a freezing temperature.

"Celia!" Talbot snapped, his eyes flashing red with anger. "I said, knock it off!"

Sensing the tension, one of his friends smirked and chimed in, "Come on, man, don't you get what she's trying to do?"

"Didn't you notice how... incredible she looks tonight?"

"Yeah, bro, your birthday present is literally standing right in front of you..."

The man was dressed in a deep crimson suit paired with a meticulously tailored overcoat that made him look overwhelmingly tall and imposing.

Alistair's gaze was dead. There wasn't a single trace of warmth or mercy in his deep eyes.

He said, get out.

In an instant, the rowdy, sneering suite fell dead silent.

Talbot whipped around, his pupils contracting in pure shock the second he registered who was standing at the door.

Lowering his head immediately, his voice shook with a mix of resentment and forced respect. "Mr. Zucker."

There was only one Zucker in the capital's elite circles.

The realization hit the frat-boy friends like a freight train. The smug mockery evaporated from their faces, instantly replaced by paralyzing fear.

Even though Alistair was only a few years older than them, the suffocating, predatory aura he radiated belonged to a man who could destroy their families with a single phone call.

"Get out. I won't say it twice."