Chapter 304

Sylvia was practically trapped, perched awkwardly on Rupert's lap. His hand splayed over the bare skin her cropped top couldn't cover, calloused fingers rubbing in slow, deliberate circles, leaving a flush behind.

"Wearing so little? Not worried about catching cold?" he teased, voice low.

She sucked in a breath, tried to twist away. "None of your business. Let me go." Her anger simmered, still raw from how he'd thrown her under the bus earlier- almost letting her get into real trouble, just to prove a point.

Rupert just smirked, catching her fist before she could pull free. He pried her fingers open, thumb brushing over the crescent-shaped nail marks in her palm. "If I don't keep an eye on you, you'll end up leaving your mark on me next."

She glared at him, her voice trembling. "So, Uncle Rupert, is this your idea of fun? Humiliate me again? What's next-have me flirt with your clients like some cheap hostess?"

All that pent-up frustration finally boiled over. She yanked her hand away, not even feeling the sting.

Rupert's gaze softened for a split second, something cold and stormy flickering behind his eyes before it vanished.

"Humiliate you? If that was my goal, I doubt you could handle it."

He nodded toward the other side of the VIP booth.

Sylvia looked over. Across the table, a woman was cozied up to a client, already tipsy. She giggled, fed him a few olives from the martini tray, then slipped off his diamond pinky ring and dropped it down her own blouse.

it, I guess I'll just

it," the client laughed, his hand following the jewelry down her neckline. After a minute of shameless groping, he didn't find the ring, but he did end up with a

be a six-figure night for her, Sylvia thought bitterly. She

heavy and tinged with whiskey,

you could pull that

face went hot. She clutched her top

tense beneath her. She tried to stand, but he held her fast, the heat from his thighs burning through his tailored

pushing her buttons. His fingers skimmed the waistband

"Well?

a

of place in this smoky,

in the soft light-made

ver

jaw clenched, crushing the cigarette between his fingers. His

the client stood up anyway, swaggering over with a

shy, sweetheart? Maybe I should give

drink-don't kill Mr.

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