Jean Ellison walked up to the second floor and saw with her own eyes a bodyguard outside the private room pulling a gun from behind his waist. She stopped in her tracks, not daring to move forward.
The old man was drunk, being supported by a nouveau riche, looking like they were planning to escape through the back door before the police arrived upstairs.
No way, I can’t let them just walk away like this.
Jean quickly ran over in her high heels, supporting the other side of the old man’s arm.
"Boss, you’re leaving already? Flora hasn’t had enough fun with you yet."
"Flora... you call yourself Flora, what a lovely na."
"In my ho, there’s a Faye, there’s a Jenny, but we’re short a Flora, a tender flower like you, my dear sister."
The old man’s eyes squinted, his gaze landed on her slender neck, her skin fair, and he licked his lips.
"Brother won’t leave, let’s go back. We’ll have a blast tonight."
His head leaned towards Jean’s shoulder, the sll of smoke mixed with alcohol was nauseating, making her want to puke.
"Alright, brother, Flora will help you back."
The nouveau riche stepped forward to stop him, but the old man pushed him away with a strong shove.
"Get lost, I’ve given you everything you wanted, don’t ss up my good ti."
"You think of laying your hands on my woman, you’re courting death."
The nouveau riche could only cry without tears, the police were downstairs, and he was lingering here; tonight, he might just lose his official cap.
Not being an official wasn’t important, what mattered was the business; the business couldn’t fail.
"Even if you gave ten tis the guts, I wouldn’t dare think of ssing with your fifth concubine."
The old man grinned, revealing yellowed teeth as he clapped the nouveau riche’s shoulder, "You know your place; after tonight, she’ll be our family’s fifth concubine."
"What’s her na again?" he turned his head to look at Jean, reaching out to touch her face.
Jean quickly opened the door, avoiding his touch.
"Boss, I’m called Flora, you’ve forgotten again."
The old man entered the private room, instructing everyone to wait outside, only allowing Jean to follow him in.
"Brother doesn’t have a good mory, don’t bla brother."
"Let brother have a kiss, two and he’ll rember."
In a mont of panic, Jean pushed him down, and after a brief pause, she poured a glass of wine.
"Have a drink first."
The old man didn’t get angry, took the glass from her hand, using the opportunity to grab her small hand.
Drool almost slipped down, it was so tender.
He wanted to go further, his footing unstable, he staggered toward Jean.
"Flora, don’t run, let brother have a kiss."
"Tomorrow, brother will buy you a big house, anything you want, brother will get it for you."
Jean ran, and he chased after her.
"Boss, you didn’t just co here to drink, did you? That man with you is really scary, he frightened ."
The old man, already struggling with poor eyesight and drunk, reached out but couldn’t catch anyone, anxious beyond belief.
"Pretty lady, stop tornting brother, let brother have a kiss."
"Don’t mind those outside; all they want is that plot of land in the southern bay, insisting on filling it to build so resort hotel."
"You’ll live in brother’s big house, won’t run into them, only see brother in the future. Flora, don’t worry, brother will protect you for life."
Jean suddenly realized, isn’t the southern bay ho to many rare marine creatures, and according to regulations, it cannot be comrcialized?
"Who is that fierce man outside?"
Jean wanted to probe further regarding the man with the big gold chain, resembling a nouveau riche from out of town.
"Flora, you’re abandoning brother, why ask about others."
The old man got anxious, stumbling and nearly tumbling in front of Jean.
Jean kindly went up to support him, not wanting to see soone kneeling before her.
As she just approached and reached out, the old man mustered all his strength to hug her.
"Flora, Flora, give brother a son, and I’ll reward you with a billion."
He had married a wife and kept four mistresses, fathering over a dozen kids, yet not one of them was a boy.
What kind of bad luck was he under, for all these years to not have an heir?
His beady eyes, sticky gaze glued to her bottom.
So round, so big.
Maybe she could bear two healthy boys at once.
Jean didn’t expect his strength to remain so formidable after drinking; he pinned her to the sofa, and in desperation, she kicked him between the legs.
"Ouch, that hurts like hell."
The old man held his crotch with one hand, while the other grabbed Jean’s hair.
"You little bitch, I was being nice to you."
Even when selling herself, she put on this facade of chastity.
The two began to wrestle, but Jean wasn’t a pushover, picking up the wine bottle from the table and smashing it toward his head.
The old man pinned her arm, using another hand to squeeze her wrist, sweating profusely as he controlled her.
These days, even working girls learn martial arts?
"I was being nice to you, damn it."
With a powerful throw, he hurled Jean onto the sofa, pinning her knees with a leg while reaching to undo her clothes.
The top of her waiter uniform had no zipper, just a few pieces of fabric tied with strings, easily coming off with a tug.
"Help, help,"
Just as Jean cried out, the old man stuffed the torn uniform top into her mouth.
Her mouth blocked, she could only make muffled sounds.
She was left in just her bra, pitch-black with lace edges, barely covering her supple breasts.
The old man’s face flushed intensely as he unbuckled his trousers.
"Wearing such slutty underwear, aren’t you trying to seduce a man to take you?"
He undid his pants, but found he couldn’t get hard, blazing with fury inside.
How could I forget to bring the pills when coming out for fun?
At ho, it was always the won he kept who prepared the pills for him, barely allowing him to find pleasure.
Seizing his montary distraction, Jean grabbed the wine bottle on the table again, this ti aiming for the back of his head, raising her hand to strike.
The old man instantly fell to his knees in pain, clutching the back of his head with one hand, the other on his groin.
Both ends infuriating him.
"Soone, soone."
He yelled, determined to deal with this woman today.
Jean took a deep, cold breath; she was now only wearing a bra on top, and a skirt so short it nearly exposed her buttocks below.
The bodyguard at the door had been eyeing her for long, she dreaded to imagine what would happen if he ca in.
This old man might be impotent, but others might not be.
No response ca, even after a mont.
"With people coming in, I’ll have you tied up; brother will play you to death today."
He couldn’t even stand, his old bony fra about to collapse.
Jean stood far away, hiding by the wall.
"Play to death? Do you really have the ability?"
"You should think clearly, are the kids at ho really yours? Your mistresses had two kids in three years, they didn’t want to sleep with you, they’re having babies with n outside."
The old man’s face turned green, and at the thought, it seed to be true.
The fourth at ho, he’d barely slept with a few tis, pregnant upon a single touch. He thought it was because of his own prowess.
Even the third and second had their secrets, saying they were lazy, calling yoga instructors ho for lessons, two hours in the bedroom without even a sip of water.
Those little won with little education, when did they beco so dedicated in class?
No wonder the younger kids at ho weren’t close to him, turned out they weren’t his flesh and blood.
He flew into a rage, propping himself up by the table, almost reaching Jean’s side when, suddenly, the door creaked and a man walked in.
The private room was dimly lit, making it hard to see his face clearly, but he appeared tall and upright.
Backlit, he ford a tall, dark silhouette, sporting a sharply cut suit with broad, fitted shoulder lines, an impressive physique, and a powerful aura.
"Tie her up for !"
The old man pointed at Jean, commanding the man who had just entered.
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