The Platonic Trap novel Chapter 78

For Celia, this was incredible news.

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Early the next morning, Celia was jolted awake by her ringing phone.

Answering the call, the man's smooth, resonant voice flowed through the speaker. "Your bag has been recovered."

Hearing Alistair's voice, Celia practically sprang up from the pillows.

"Really? Thank you so much, Uncle Alistair!" she cheered, playing the part perfectly.

"Yes," Alistair replied, his tone as impossibly steady as ever. "I'll be at the hotel in twenty minutes. Just come down to the lobby to get it."

"Okay!"

Hanging up, Celia pushed through her 'grueling injuries' to apply a flawlessly innocent face of light makeup, changed her clothes, and headed downstairs.

She arrived a bit early, and Alistair wasn't there yet.

She was just planning to find a quiet corner in the lounge to wait when two figures walked through the grand glass doors of the lobby.

"Book a penthouse suite."

Hearing that overly familiar, arrogant voice, Celia raised an eyebrow and turned to look.

Talbot Forrester was standing right beside Evelyn Morgan. His hand was resting protectively on Evelyn's shoulder, his gestures sickeningly gentle and attentive.

Narrowing her eyes, Celia felt a wave of absolute disgust.

Talk about awful luck.

They were standing quite close, and as soon as Talbot felt her gaze, he turned and saw her.

The second he locked eyes with Celia, his brow furrowed, and he instinctively dropped his hand from Evelyn's shoulder.

Beside him, Evelyn kept her head bowed. She looked incredibly timid, the corners of her eyes still glistening with tears—the absolute picture of a fragile, broken victim.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Talbot demanded coldly.

Celia tilted her head, blinking innocently. "I think I'm the one who should be asking that, Talbot. What are you doing here with Evelyn?"

Talbot cleared his throat awkwardly, his voice dropping to a defensive growl. "Evelyn just got out of... lockup. I brought her here to freshen up and relax."

His brow twitched as he suddenly remembered the conversation he had with Norma a few days ago.

A smug, victorious smirk crept across his face, and he looked at Celia with unbearable arrogance.

"Norma told me you went to an auction."

Celia paused, genuinely confused as to why he was suddenly bringing this up.

She said nothing.

Talbot's smirk widened, his chin tilting up as he looked down his nose at her. "Celia, you did something completely out of line. Do you honestly think buying me a pair of cufflinks is enough to buy my forgiveness? Don't you think that's a little pathetic?"

Standing with her back to the revolving doors, Celia caught a sudden reflection in the massive mirrored pillars behind the reception desk.

A towering, impeccably dressed man had just walked into the lobby.

It was Alistair.

Raising an eyebrow, a devious smile danced on her lips. She ruthlessly pinched her own thigh, forcing her eyes to well with sudden, brilliant tears.