Set My 270
Chapter 270
Anna’s POV:
I spent most days on my balcony, tending to my plants. The small collection had thrived under my constant attention these patris, by th
to the walls of my Back Bay apartment, a self–imposed exile while I waited for the divorce is become final.
I’d taken leave from EcoMarine Group, disconnected from work completely. My body needed rest, my mind needed race
It felt like I was a director waiting for someone to yell ‘Action! The script for my new life was written, I just needed the legal papers to make eff
“Are you sure about this place?‘ Emily asked, gesturing around the dimly lit restaurant. “Given what happened here last time…
I managed a small smile. “It’s perfect.”
Emily had rented out the entire restaurant for tonight. I could see her wincing at the cost, though she never complained. We both kine the world mention that Seth had paid last time. She probably thought it would make me feel worse.
‘I don’t regret anything,” I told her, running my finger along the rim of my water glass. ‘Everyone deserves their own life.
Emily clapped her hands, and the surprise she’d arranged made its entrance. A parade of muscular men dressed only in fitted dress pants descended the stairs, followed by professional bartenders. Their perfectly sculpted chests and abs were on full display in the dim lighting.
I raised an eyebrow at Emily. “What the hell are you doing?” I couldn’t help but scan their exposed upper bodies.
Emily rolled her eyes dramatically, slapped the table and shouted at them, “Whoever makes my best friend laugh the hardest tonight gets a tip so big your grandma would crawl out of her grave to thank me!”
Soon, I was surrounded by attention. One model knelt beside me, pouring champagne. Another leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear.
A bronze–skinned man seductively offered a strawberry to my lips, his gaze intense and direct.
At first, it felt strange, but the champagne helped me relax. Being called “gorgeous” and “stunning” repeatedly wasn’t bad either.
Emboldened by alcohol, I ran my fingertips across one man’s arm, feeling the definition of his muscles. It struck me that Blake had been my only intimate experience throughout my youth.
As the music grew more sensual, I found myself studying the men around me, imagining possibilities.
Emily slid closer, noticing my flushed cheeks. “Look at you! This is living! What can that cold–blooded asshole Blake give you?”
A blond model draped his arm across the back of my chair, leaning in until his lips nearly touched my hair. “What kind of man would leave a woman like you lonely? If you were mine, I’d make sure you felt cherished in every way.”
A muscular bartender mixed a special cocktail, offering it with a murmur: “Try this. Made just for you–sweet with a kick, just like you.” His fingers deliberately brushed mine as he handed me the glass.
Between the flirting and alcohol, I laughed, leaning toward Emily. “I might need more drinks before deciding what I want tonight.”
A brown–haired model knelt before me, looking up seductively. “Don’t order too many drinks. Some things are better enjoyed fully aware. His palm rested on my knee, lingering suggestively.
I didn’t push his hand away. Instead, I met his gaze and raised an eyebrow. “Who says I need to stay sober tonight?”
The models grew bolder. One sat beside me, his arm occasionally brushing my waist, whispering things that made me
The music slowed to a provocative rhythm, and the lighting dimmed further.
I smiled, but internally, I felt like I was watching everything through glass.
1/3
Chapter 270
Several drinks later, I felt hot but emotionally drained. I reclined against the soft touch, my dress riding up tightly
Several models had removed their shirts, displaying perfect muscle definition as they sat around me, occasionally accidentally touching my arm b shoulder.
The lighting became even mote intimate. I lazily ran my fingers through my hair and pointed to a model with a deep whice, Tou. Sing noting it’s t noisy tonight. I need… something softer.”
The models exchanged meaningful glances. Some moved closer, others stood behind me, creating an even more suggestive atmosphere
The model I’d selected unbuttoned his collar, took the microphone, and began singing a love song. His deep, sexy voice told a story of love and Ines.
The model beside me gently held my hand.
song to me.
another boldly massaged my shoulders, in the music, I suddenly remembered Blake had one sung this same
A server standing nearby suddenly shouted loud enough to drown out the microphone.
‘Look! There’s someone on the stairs!”
A man appeared at the stairway entrance, trying to hide in the darkness. Though only the lower half of his face was visible beneath his hat brim, I recognized him instantly.
Blake tried to back away when spotted, but several models and servers quickly blocked him. They grabbed him and brought him before me.
‘Do you know this guy?” one asked.
Emily sneered, “Well, if it isn’t the CEO of Wright Group. Feeling guilty and stalking your ex–wife now?”
Blake had clearly lost weight in the two months since I’d last seen him. His suit hung loose on his frame. He kept his head down, silent, radiating desperation.
I felt conflicted. True, I’d filed for divorce, but Blake was the one who’d disappeared without a trace.
‘Do you know him?” the model repeated.
“No,” I answered.
Blake tried to speak, his voice hoarse and broken. “You…”
‘Get him out of here! She doesn’t know him!” Emily commanded.
Blake suddenly broke free from the models‘ grip. He raised his head and looked directly at me. “You. Come with me.” His speech was slow, his voice raspy, as though he hadn’t spoken in a long time.
It was 11:59 PM. In one minute, it would be tomorrow–the day we’d officially be divorced.
Emily launched into a tirade. “What’s the point of showing up now? You spineless man, afraid of a breakup, trying to drag a woman along. Haven’t you hurt her enough?”
Understanding the situation, the models and servers began verbally attacking Blake. They mocked him for ‘having no face left and being unworthy of even being called an “ex.
Someone suggested removing his hat to see his true face. They pushed him onto the stage and forcibly took off his hat.
Blake’s body visibly trembled. He looked like he’d been stripped naked and put on display. It took him several seconds to lift his head. Despite the jeers, he seemed completely unaware of them.
I found myself tensing up reflexively. My lower abdomen tightened, and I gently rubbed it to ease the sensation.
Blake grabbed the microphone. Looking straight into my eyes, he demanded, “Why did you request this song I used to sing for you?‘
The background music reached the line: “I’ll always love you.