Silas Jacobs’s eyes lit up at her words, the alcohol in his system seeming to clear a bit.
He was sprawled lazily in the booth, the hand draped over the back of the seat swirling a glass of whiskey. Flecks of light danced in his slightly hazy eyes.
Silas Jacobs’s lips curled into a smirk as he asked, "You’re not actually going to go kill him right now, are you?"
Ariana Grant watched him for a mont with her arms crossed, then suddenly leaned over, snatched the drink from his hand, and took a sip.
"Sir, we live in a society governed by law. I’m a law-abiding citizen."
Ariana Grant’s round, almond-shaped eyes looked incredibly innocent, a stark contrast to the vampish aura accentuated by her tight, dark red, hip-hugging miniskirt.
Silas Jacobs raised an eyebrow, then suddenly reached out and pulled her. Caught off guard, Ariana Grant stumbled and fell right onto his lap.
His warm, alcohol-scented breath brushed against her ear. "What a sha. It’s not every day I feel like helping a villain."
Ariana Grant pushed his encroaching body away and suggested, "You could always raise your own banner and crown yourself king." She then shrugged. "Of course, if you can’t get it up, just pretend I said nothing."
’This bastard. He has the nerve to think about hiding behind a woman to do his dirty work. Shaless.’
Hearing this, Silas Jacobs let out a speechless, incredulous scoff.
’Does she think I don’t understand a double entendre?!’
’Who’s she saying can’t get it up?!’
His tongue darted over a canine tooth as he gave a wicked smile. "Miss Ariana, you really have a way with words. As for whether I can get it up or not, why don’t you co and find out for yourself?"
Ariana Grant was out of patience. She held out her hand to him. "Cut the crap. Give the number."
"I’ll give it to you, of course I will." Silas Jacobs generously offered his phone, only to snatch it back just as Ariana Grant was about to touch it. "One for one. I’ll give you Rhodes’s number, and you give yours. Fair’s fair, right?"
Ariana Grant looked up at him and agreed readily. "Sure."
She then typed a string of numbers into Silas Jacobs’s phone.
Silas Jacobs was a straightforward guy, or perhaps he was just eager to prove himself. He did as he said he would, imdiately pulling up Owen Rhodes’s number for her without another word.
With the number in hand, Ariana Grant got up to leave, only to be pulled back down by Silas Jacobs. "Leaving already? A little fuck-and-run, are we?"
Ariana Grant’s lips curled into a smile as she adjusted her position.
She bent one knee, pressing it between Silas Jacobs’s legs as she leaned in close.
Silas Jacobs was instantly sober.
His eyes went wide as he stared at the hot-blooded woman smiling so innocently before him.
"President Jacobs, cultured people usually call this ’burning the bridge after you’ve crossed it.’ You should read more and play around less. Clean n are more lovable, you know? Like Owen Rhodes, for example."
As she spoke, she added a bit more pressure with her knee, and Silas Jacobs couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath.
"Oh, and one more thing. Don’t get so handsy next ti, ’kay? Otherwise, you might find you *really* can’t get it up anymore."
Ariana Grant pressed a finger to his forehead, pushing his upper body—which had stiffened from the pain—back into the booth. Then she stood up and sauntered away, her slender waist swaying.
It took Silas Jacobs a long mont to recover, after which a vengeful smile spread across his face.
’What a woman, that Ariana Grant.’
’How dare she say I’m uncultured? And call dirty?’
’Maybe I’m not as ’clean’ as Owen Rhodes, but I’m not ’dirty,’ am I?’
’It’s not like I’ll go for just any woman, okay!’
’And she even had the guts to threaten .’
’But the worst part is, I really couldn’t move just then.’
’Damn it!’
’The more I think about it, the angrier I get!’
Silas Jacobs walked out of Qillian, found the number Ariana Grant had just saved, and dialed it.
The first call went unanswered. Silas Jacobs tried again.
The second one connected.
A rough male voice ca from the other end of the line. "Who are you looking for?"
Bewildered, Silas Jacobs pulled the phone away from his ear to look at the screen. The contact na was definitely "Ariana Grant."
"Isn’t this Miss Ariana’s phone?"
"You’ve got the wrong number... BEEP BEEP BEEP..."
Silas Jacobs stood dumbfounded at the bustling entrance of the Qillian Club for a full minute before he could accept the fact that he, a self-proclaid "professional player," had just been played by Ariana Grant.
"Fuck! I’m not done with you!"
...
After sending Kiana Sterling off, Ethan Rhodes returned to the hotel to handle the final arrangents.
The hotel manager settled the bill with Ethan Rhodes and then conducted a brief follow-up, asking if he was satisfied with the hotel’s service during the banquet that evening.
Ethan Rhodes wasn’t in high spirits. He murmured noncommittal responses to the manager’s questions while signing the receipt.
As he handed the receipt back, he lost his grip, and the paper slipped from his hand.
His weary gaze followed the paper as it fluttered down, watching it land beside the hem of a black skirt.
A hand, with a platinum ring on its fourth finger, gently picked up the paper. For so unknown reason, the person’s movent paused for a split second as they began to stand up.
Stella Sterling furrowed her brows slightly and handed the receipt to the manager standing with Ethan Rhodes.
The manager took it with a word of thanks, and only then did Ethan Rhodes realize it was Stella Sterling.
But standing beside her was, of all people, Owen Rhodes.
Ethan Rhodes stared at Stella Sterling’s face, slightly lost in thought as blurry fragnts of mories flashed through his mind.
In those fragnts, there was a long-haired girl who loved to wear dresses. She always had a look of faint detachnt, but in front of him, she would flash a radiant smile.
The images grew clearer with each passing mont, until finally, the long-haired girl’s face rged with Stella Sterling’s.
It also rged with the indifferent, detached expression on the face of the Stella Sterling standing before him now.
Stella Sterling didn’t even spare him a glance before turning to leave.
By the ti Ethan Rhodes snapped out of it, he had already grabbed her wrist.
"Let go."
Stella Sterling’s icy voice reached his ears, sounding completely unfamiliar to Ethan Rhodes.
He froze for a second, then a sharp pain shot through his wrist as Owen Rhodes forcefully swatted away the hand gripping Stella Sterling.
Owen Rhodes said nothing, his deep-set eyes radiating an endless chill as he stood in front of Stella Sterling, glaring down at him.
Only then did Ethan Rhodes manage to call out, "Uncle," before turning to Stella Sterling. "Co here. I have sothing to ask you."
Stella Sterling scoffed. "Ethan Rhodes, has your brain still not recovered from the car accident? Have you forgotten what just happened at the engagent party? Don’t you know to keep your distance to avoid suspicion? If you have sothing to say, say it here."
Ethan Rhodes’s brow twitched. Whatever strange feelings he had a mont ago were completely obliterated by Stella Sterling’s words.
He still rembered the humiliation from the engagent party, after all.
He and Kiana Sterling were now bound by mutual interest. When she was criticized, he naturally couldn’t escape unscathed.
His anger flared up. "Heh, what happened to calling ’brother-in-law’ all the ti? I never realized you were such a good actress. Stella Sterling, didn’t I tell you? If you dared to cause trouble today, I wouldn’t let you off the hook."
Stella Sterling laughed. "Ethan Rhodes, I didn’t realize that on top of your brain not working, your eyes don’t work either. Who was the one causing a scene just now? Are you blind? Talking to you is a waste of life."
Stella Sterling turned to leave, but it seed these people were impossible to shake off.
Joel Joyce had been punched a few tis by Owen Rhodes earlier. His lip was split and bleeding, making his normally refined face look rather battered.
He didn’t get too close, but still said, "Miss Stella, please co ho with ."
Hearing this, Ethan Rhodes quickly asked, "Stella, you’re not going ho? If you’re not going ho, where are you going?"
Stella Sterling’s face was cold. "What does that have to do with you?"
Ethan Rhodes’s expression darkened as he thought about the engagent party. "Is it true what you said, that you’re married?"
Stella Sterling waved the hand wearing the wedding ring. "Looks like you really are blind."
Ethan Rhodes’s face tightened. He instinctively started to rush forward, but his steps were halted by Owen Rhodes’s intensely grim gaze.
He had no choice but to look at Stella Sterling and demand, "Who is that man?!"
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