Chapter 212 081
HER fist sank into the mattress with a muffled thud. The sting of failure shot up her arm, but it wasn’t physical pain she felt, it was fury. Every muscle in her body tensed as she gritted her teeth, nails digging into her palm.
Her mind raced, spinning through every possible angle she could have taken, every word, every gesture, every strategy that had failed spectacularly. She had imagined this moment a thousand times: Charles weak, tempted, vulnerable. She had seen him in her mind’s eye, trapped under her spell, helplessly drawn to her, and now— now he had walked out.
Her jaw tightened. How dare he? After all the effort she had put in, after all the money spent on the hotel, the champagne, the carefully chosen outfit, the seduction rehearsed like a script, he had not only resisted her, he had humiliated her in the process. He had exposed her motives before she even had a chance to act.
Shantel slammed her palm against the bed again, sending a shiver through the mattress.
“Damn him!” she hissed under her breath. “He thinks he is untouchable… but he will see. He will see!”
Her breathing came fast now, shallow and hot, the sting of anger mixed with the sharp taste of desperation. She had wanted control. She had wanted to humiliate him in a way that would burn Amelia, and yet here she was— naked not just in body, but in strategy, stripped of every advantage.
Slowly, a cold determination began to replace the heat of her frustration. Her fists unclenched, but her teeth remained gritted. Failure wasn’t final, it was just a delay, a moment to recalibrate. She would find another way to get this done. Somehow, anyhow.
But for now… she had to swallow the bitter pill of being outplayed. And she would not forgive that. Not yet.
Her eyes flicked to the bedside table where the champagne still glistened under the dim hotel light. A smirk slowly curved her lips, sharp and dangerous.
“Next time, Charles,” she whispered to herself, “next time, you probably won’t walk away.”
Then she sank onto the bed, head in her hands, plotting. Her desperation had failed her once, but her determination? That would never fail.
Charles stormed into Marcus’s apartment, the sound of the door slamming behind him echoing through the spacious living room. The tension in his shoulders and the fury simmering in his chest made him feel like he could tear the furniture apart. He didn’t even notice Marcus pacing near the window, arms crossed, tapping his foot.
“Ah! So fast?” Marcus barked, almost laughing but clearly trying to mask irritation. His tone was sharp, bordering on disbelief. “You came back already? What happened?”
Charles threw himself onto the sofa, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
“You wouldn’t believe what that bitch called me for,” he growled, his voice tight with anger. “She… she has no penny! A broke ass like her!” He leaned forward, gripping the edge of the couch as if it could anchor him. “And she called me just so I can… service her in bed! Can you imagine? After everything, she thinks I’m just going to fall for that?”
Marcus blinked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips despite the tension in his own body.
“Wait, hold on, service her in bed? Are you serious?” he said, half laughing, half incredulous.
Charles leaned back, throwing one arm over the back of the couch, eyes blazing.
“Dead serious! She comes in all dressed up, all seductive, acting like she is giving me a reunion gift or something, and I’m supposed to—” He broke off, shaking his head. “No! I don’t do broke women. I don’t do desperate women. And I don’t get played!”
Marcus laughed outright now, slapping his knee.
“Damn! That is classic Shantel. Always thinking she can manipulate a man’s… weaknesses.” He paused, then grinned wickedly. “But man, you resisted. That is what matters. She walked into her own trap and came out empty-handed.”
Charles groaned, burying his face in his hands for a moment.
“I thought I could handle it calmly. You know, just talk to her and do that important stuff, extort from her, but I have just discovered she has nothing… nothing!” He screamed the ‘nothing’.
Marcus shook his head, still laughing.
“Man, you must have had a hell of a poker face! I would have… I don’t even want to think about what I would do in your shoes.”
“Poker face? I didn’t just have a poker face,” Charles muttered bitterly, lifting his head. “I had self-control I didn’t even know I possessed. Every nerve in my body was screaming temptation, desire, the whole damn thing, but I… I kept it together. What if something had happened, and Amelia gets to find out?”
Julian who had been quietly leaning against the bar counter, finally chimed in, shaking his head with a grin.
“Man, that is something. All you have been building for years would have shattered. Jeez! I thought she had something even.”
Charles nodded slowly, a faint smirk finally breaking through the anger.
“Nothing my gee, nothing! You could imagine… infuriating.”
Marcus leaned back in his chair, still chuckling.
“Infuriating, sure, but also hilarious.”
Charles allowed himself a short, bitter laugh.
“Well, I don’t care about that anymore. All I care about now is the way forward.” His expression darkened, eyes narrowing. “I care about my own situation right now. I’m broke. And not just a little broke… I need money. Fast. And this… this entire mess with Shantel reminded me that I can’t just coast anymore. I need to think, strategize, and move.”
Marcus leaned forward, suddenly serious.
“Well… so what are you thinking now? Because we have got your back, man. Whatever plan you cook up, you know we will help.”
Charles took a deep breath, letting the tension in his chest ebb slightly, replaced by a spark of determination.
“I’m thinking fast moves. Quick wins. Something that will get cash in hand without compromising anything. I can’t afford distractions and manipulations… not from women, not from anything.”
Julian smirked.
“Well, one thing is for sure, you won’t be wasting time with Shantel again. That is for damn sure.”
Charles allowed himself a small, sharp laugh.
“No. She is done. Finished. But this? This is serious. I need a plan… and I need it now. Because if I don’t, all the control I think I have over my life is just going to slip right through my fingers.”
The room fell into a tense silence. The laughter and jokes had faded, replaced by the weight of reality. The friends saw Charles really— broke, desperate, and yet unbroken.
He leaned back, eyes glinting with resolve.
“Alright… let’s figure this out.”
The friends nodded, exchanging looks. It was serious now. Very serious.
The game had changed, and Charles knew he had to play it carefully, or risk losing everything.