Three years of loving him, three days to erase myself from his world novel Chapter 196

It was a man.

She didn't recognize him at all.

"Are you..." Clara straightened her posture.

Chase Colter didn't answer immediately. His eyes swept over her delicate, beautiful face, and he raised an eyebrow, thinking to himself that she looked even better in person than in the photos.

He let out a short laugh and boldly dropped into the seat across from her. "You have a terrible memory, Ms. Vance. You just sent me your photos yesterday, and you've already forgotten who I am."

Sent photos?

What photos?

Clara was completely lost. "What are you talking about?"

Still playing hard to get, huh?

Chase sneered.

However...

He crossed his arms and looked her up and down for a few seconds. She really was breathtaking. The banquet hall was warm, so she had removed her shawl, leaving her in just the sleek black gown. The half-exposed curve of her shoulders made her look like a pure temptress.

Chase's eyes darkened. Acknowledging her gorgeous face and stunning figure, he decided to cut her some slack and indulge her little game.

He smoothly changed the subject. "Clara, it must be miserable being strung along by Julian Lowell, isn't it?"

Clara frowned. The intrusion was incredibly offensive, and the way he was staring at her made her skin crawl.

She grabbed her purse and prepared to leave.

"We don't know each other. I have no obligation to answer that."

Chase narrowed his eyes.

In his entire life, no one had ever dared to blatantly ignore him like this. She was the one who practically threw herself at him over text, so what the hell was she playing at now?

Was this all a game?

His patience completely evaporated. He stood up, towering over her with a dark scowl, blocking her path.

"Clara, don't push your luck. Let's be honest, you're nothing but used goods. Do you really think you're something special?"

Clara gasped, fury and sheer disbelief bubbling over. Driven entirely by instinct, she snatched a teacup off the table and hurled the liquid directly into his face. "Are you out of your mind?!"

Caught completely off guard, Chase was drenched in tea. He looked utterly humiliated...

The surrounding guests froze in shock.

That was the heir to the Colter family, the golden boy his family fiercely protected. Where did this woman get the nerve?

"What the hell are you looking at?!" Chase wiped his face furiously, sweeping a lethal glare across the room.

The onlookers immediately averted their eyes and scattered.

Only one man remained completely unfazed. Dominic Jarrett leaned casually against a Roman pillar, flipping a lighter open and shut with one hand. His dark, piercing gaze was locked dead onto Chase.

Chase grabbed a handful of napkins, scrubbing at his face. Boiling with rage, he noticed the man staring, and his temper snapped. He hurled an insult, "Get the hell out of my face!"

Dominic narrowed his eyes, snapping the lighter shut with a sharp click.

He didn't say a single word, but the terrifying, freezing aura rolling off him was enough to strike fear into anyone nearby.

Even Chase faltered.

He inexplicably lost the nerve to speak again.

Dominic let out a cold, dark laugh. He slammed another devastating punch into Chase's jaw, then instantly grabbed him by the back of his head and viciously smashed his face into the marble counter. His voice was colder than ice.

"I know you're Chase Colter. Your father's a politician, right? Has a bit of power. But let me make this very clear—if you ever dare to go near Clara again, not even your father, not your entire family, will be able to save you!"

Chase's eyes widened in sheer terror. Pinned and beaten with absolute ease, panic finally began to consume him.

He choked out a desperate, incoherent plea. "Stop... stop hitting me... I swear... I won't go near Clara again..."

Dominic completely ignored him, refusing to stop.

Just thinking about how this bastard had spoken to Clara made him want to beat him to a pulp!

Earlier, he had held back because they were in a crowded hall, knowing a scene would only drag Clara's name through the mud.

But in here, with no one watching, there was absolutely nothing holding him back.

When Chase was practically unconscious, Dominic finally released him.

Chase collapsed onto the floor like a sack of dead weight, his face covered in dark bruises, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He looked utterly pathetic.

Dominic pulled out a cigarette and lit it, a faint trace of blood smudged on his knuckles. The terrifying, predatory aura radiating off him was suffocating.

He delivered one final warning. "If I ever see you near Clara again, you're dead."

Chase's face was ashen. His body throbbed with such agonizing pain that he couldn't even form a coherent word...

Dominic crushed his cigarette and walked out.

As he stepped into the hallway, his footsteps paused for a fraction of a second. He turned his head slightly, his gaze flicking toward the shadow quickly shrinking back into the corridor...

Tucked against the wall, Seraphina Shaw stood completely frozen, her face drained of all color.