The Platonic Trap novel Chapter 42

The dark coat draped over her entire frame, leaving only her small head peeking out.

Alistair cast a freezing glance at the approaching man.

Realizing he was outmatched, the playboy shrugged and walked away.

Alistair's mood was distinctly icy.

But he didn't direct his anger at her. He merely said in a flat tone, "Let's go. The car is outside."

Celia kept her head down, shadowing the man closely as they exited the Elysian Club.

...

When Ken Linden saw Celia walking out of the club with his boss, he hurriedly stepped out of the car to greet them.

"Mr. Zucker, Ms. Stafford."

As he spoke, Ken eagerly opened the rear door.

The spring nights in the Capital still carried a brisk chill.

Having given his jacket to Celia, Alistair was left in a flawlessly tailored suit that only accentuated his aloof, aristocratic aura.

The night breeze rustled the hem of the girl's dress, carrying the faint, almost dissipating scent of lily of the valley to the man's nose.

Alistair furrowed his brow slightly. "Get in."

Celia nodded obediently. Shielding the top of her head with his hand, he guided her into the car.

He then slid into the backseat from the other side.

"To the Stafford Villa."

Alistair gave the order.

"Right away, Mr. Zucker."

The engine purred to life.

Ken was in a fantastic mood.

If Ms. Stafford was willing to come back with Mr. Zucker, did that mean she had forgiven him?

To be honest, Ken had always felt guilty about misjudging Ms. Stafford's intentions. If she was willing to bury the hatchet with his boss, that was the best possible outcome!

In the backseat, unlike Ken's cheerful demeanor, Alistair's expression was grim.

"Celia."

He called her name softly.

The young woman was slouching without much support, sitting obediently in her spot with her head bowed.

She was gorgeous; otherwise, she wouldn't have attracted those flies.

He wasn't trying to lecture or discipline her, he just felt—

"What I mean is, you don't have to go to such lengths just to please a guy like Talbot Forrester."

Celia's pupils trembled.

Oh~

So Alistair had misunderstood.

He thought she had dressed up this beautifully to celebrate Talbot's birthday?

A fleeting emotion flashed in her eyes.

A second later, Celia bit her lip. The corners of her eyes flushed red, and a tear slipped out.

She looked at Alistair, her eyes brimming with grievance and frustration.

Her movement caused the oversized coat to slip off her shoulders, putting the sheer dress on full display once again.

"But Talbot didn't like it."

"Uncle Alistair, is it true he can't get hard for me...?"