Asher’s lips curled into a wicked, predatory grin. He tightened his hold on Claire, leaning in to whisper right next to her ear, his voice low and suggestive. “Claire, after all these years, you’re still as irresistible as ever. Since you’re here, don’t be in such a hurry to leave. Stay with me for a while, hmm?”
His breath tickled the sensitive skin behind her ear, sending a wave of goosebumps down her arms.
Claire struggled desperately, but Asher’s grip was iron-strong—she couldn’t move an inch.
Just then, the door to the private dining room creaked open again.
Everyone turned to look. Framed in the doorway stood a striking woman in a white dress, her long dark hair falling sleek and straight. She exuded a blend of innocence and allure, every inch the picture of poised beauty.
Her gaze swept across the room before landing squarely on Asher and Claire.
Instantly, her expression soured—her face went pale, eyes blazing with anger and disbelief.
“Scarlet?” Asher blurted out, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his face before he quickly composed himself. He released Claire, stepping forward to greet her. “Scarlet, you finally made it! We’ve all been waiting for you.”
But Scarlet Monroe acted as if she hadn’t heard a word. Her eyes fixated on Claire with open contempt.
After being dumped by Hans and then by Normand Lewis, Scarlet had been desperate to find another man to rely on. Asher was her golden ticket—her hard-won prize.
She’d done her homework. Asher might only be a junior sales manager for now, nowhere near Normand’s wealth or Hans’s local clout, but he’d just graduated and already landed a job at Foster & Co.—the most prestigious firm in Vesperia. His future was undoubtedly bright.
And, crucially, Asher was going through a messy divorce with his wife—a spoiled heiress from Cresthaven. Once the divorce was final, he’d surely walk away with a hefty settlement.
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