Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 11

The room went quiet for a beat before a wave of laughter broke out, dripping with sarcasm.

"Simon, you really called it this time."

Tonight, Simon hadn’t brought Quinn along; instead, he had some new escort hanging on his arm.

The moment Simon spotted Clara, a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes, quickly replaced by a resigned look. He frowned, setting his drink down on the coffee table. "Clara, aren’t you tired of this nonsense?"

She'd already made a scene at Moonlight a few times, and now she showed up dressed like the staff. Each appearance seemed to cheapen her more.

Clara bent slightly, picked up the priciest bottle of Château Margaux, and flashed a smile at the crowd. "Who ordered this? Need a hand opening it?"

She had caught their chatter while standing outside the door. A twinge of bitterness tugged at her heart, but as she entered and saw their flashy, nouveau riche airs, it felt like staring at a gold mine. Maybe she'd rake in that hundred grand sooner than expected.

Château Margaux was a cool million a bottle.

None of them were strapped for cash, but they were way more invested in seeing Clara embarrass herself.

Nate's eyes lingered on Clara's figure before he nudged Colton with his elbow. "You gotta admit, she’s looking hot."

Both were Simon's friends. They were always slandering Clara, and Simon never stepped in. Having a stunning girl cause a ruckus over him was a badge of honor among the guys.

Colton's gaze was full of disdain. No matter how stunning Clara was, she was a pathetic waste. "Clara, for every bottle you drink, we'll open another."

Simon wanted to jump in. They had money for sure, but he knew Clara’s drinking habits and was a bit skeptical about opening million dollar bottles.

"Colton, she can really put it away..."

Before he could finish, Clara had uncorked the bottle and was smiling at everyone. "Alright, you said it."

Colton was itching to see her drunkenly humiliated, so he leaned back, lounging in his seat. "I did say it. Go on, drink. And Clara, don’t say I didn’t warn you—Simon doesn’t like you. Everyone here hates you. If you get wasted and make the front page tomorrow, no one's gonna pull your name out of the headlines."

Everyone knew the Bradfords favored Quinn; Clara was just unwanted baggage.

Clara picked up a wine glass, filled it to the brim, and drank until the bottle was empty. Then she started on the second, and the third.

Colton's smug anticipation turned to discomfort, as if ants were crawling all over him.

Clara showed no signs of getting drunk, as if she could tackle several more bottles. Three million had already been poured out, and no matter how wealthy they were, this wasn’t the way to play.

The room’s lively buzz turned to tense silence. Someone, anxious that Colton couldn't handle it, tugged on Simon's sleeve.

Simon frowned, glaring at Clara. "Enough, Clara, stop making a fool of yourself."