Three years of loving him, three days to erase myself from his world novel Chapter 215

The partner instantly broke into a sweat, realizing he had overstepped. "Apologies, Mr. Jarrett."

But Dominic simply ordered, "Send someone over to keep an eye on her."

The partner blinked. "Oh... yes, right away."

...

Meanwhile.

The hostess led Clara to her private room.

Nora hadn't arrived yet, so Clara sat down and browsed the menu while she waited.

A few moments later, the door abruptly swung open.

Thinking it was Nora, Clara looked up with a bright smile. "Nor—"

The rest of the name died in her throat the second she saw Chase's sleazy, threatening face staring back at her.

"Chase! What are you doing here? Where's Nora?"

Panic seized Clara. Remembering the vicious threats he had hurled at her last night, the color drained entirely from her face.

She scrambled up from her chair in a panic, instinctively grabbing a heavy glass to use as a makeshift weapon.

Chase sneered at her terrified display.

He advanced slowly, brutally kicking the chair out of her way before speaking.

"Nora? That pathetic girl with the glasses? Ha. People like you belong in the gutter. My buddy only had to hit on her for two days before she spread her legs for him. What a cheap slut."

Hearing this, Clara's face turned deathly pale.

She wasn't an idiot—she understood exactly what was happening.

This whole meetup was a calculated trap. Chase had orchestrated everything, even using Nora as bait, just to get his hands on her!

Forcing down her sheer terror, Clara stealthily slid one hand into her purse to grab her phone, trying to stall for time. "Didn't Julian talk to you?"

Julian had sworn just last night that he would take care of this!

Chase looked at her like she had just told a hilarious joke.

"Clara, you really are delusional. You think Julian Lowell gives enough of a damn about you to come after me? You're nothing to him!"

Clara froze. It felt like a bomb had gone off next to her ears, leaving a deafening ringing in its wake.

The very next second.

Her hand, still fumbling inside her bag, was viciously seized and yanked out. Her phone went skittering across the floor.

"Ah!" Clara shrieked in horror.

Chase glanced down at the dropped phone, his expression twisting into something pure, murderous rage.

With a savage yank, he pulled her flush against his chest.

"Keep screaming. No one's coming to help you!"

Chase sneered. Watching her writhe in pain and drown in despair only fueled his sadistic thrill.

But it wasn't enough for him.

He planted his heavy shoe onto her leg, grinding down with vicious force.

"How does that feel, Clara? Hurts, doesn't it? Good. You're supposed to suffer. This is what you owe me!"

With that, he ground his heel down even harder.

Cold sweat broke out across Clara's body from the excruciating pain.

But she refused to just lie there and accept her fate. She wasn't going to let him destroy her.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted her fallen bag.

It was The Studded Satchel she had carefully chosen to match her outfit today.

The rigid, boxy purse was lined with heavy metal studs. It was incredibly heavy, with sharp enough edges to easily knock someone unconscious.

Clara's heart hammered wildly. In a split-second calculation, she decided to bait him. "Chase, is bullying women the only way you can feel like a man? You're completely pathetic!"

As she hurled the insult, she subtly stretched her arm out, inching her fingers toward the heavy bag.

Chase had a notoriously fragile ego. Her mockery instantly set him off. Furiously, he grabbed her by the jaw, his voice venomous.