Chapter 23: Dangerous Encounters–1
Chapter 23: Dangerous Encounters
(Olivia’s POV)
I sat between Rebecca and Lily at our corner table, the bar’s ambient lighting casting a warm glow over our faces. The fruity scent of my cocktail mingled with the low hum of conversation around us.
Rebecca leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Back then, Vanessa’s mother didn’t just beg Mrs. Rivers to take in her daughter, but even shamelessly suggested that Connor Rivers should marry Vanessa in the future.”
I nearly choked on my drink. “What?”
The revelation hit me like a physical blow. Suddenly, Vanessa’s hostility made perfect
sense.
Lily’s voice rose sharply, her eyes widening. “No way! She actually dared to say that?”
Rebecca shrugged, twirling the straw in her glass. “No one knows what Mrs. Rivers
said in reply. But in the end, the servant accepted the so–called ‘debt of gratitude‘ as just letting her daughter be adopted.”
Lily snorted disdainfully, tossing her hair back. “Of course, Mrs. Rivers only has one son. How could she let him marry a servant’s daughter?”
“Exactly,” Rebecca echoed, nodding firmly. “Connor is the Rivers family’s sole heir.
Marrying a maid’s daughter is impossible.”
I sipped my wine pensively, my mind swirling with these unexpected revelations. The
pieces were falling into place – Vanessa’s cold glares, her barely concealed
–
contempt, her stiff formality when Connor introduced us.
“So that’s why she hates me,” I murmured, more to myself than to my friends.
What I didn’t notice was the pair of violet eyes fixed upon me from across the room – Vanessa Reed herself, her face a mask of cold fury as she overheard every word.
After a few more drinks, I excused myself to use the restroom. “I’ll be right back,” I told
Rebecca and Lily, sliding out of the booth.
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1/3
3 Points
The bathroom was clean and quiet, a welcome respite from the noise of the bar. I checked my appearance in the mirror, tucking a strand of honey–brown hair behind my ear before heading back out.
As I stepped into the dimly lit corridor, I pulled out my phone to check my messages. Connor had texted, asking if I was enjoying my night out. I smiled, typing a quick reply.
Suddenly, two men blocked my path. One was burly with a shaved head, his muscular arms covered in tattoos. He wore a black tank top that strained against his chest. The other was lanky with bleached–blonde hair and a cigarette dangling from his lips.
The tattooed one whistled, his eyes traveling up and down my body. “Hey pretty girl, come play with us, hm?”
Without missing a beat, I smoothly switched my phone to recording mode and slipped it into my pocket. Years of legal training had taught me the value of evidence.
The blonde one leaned against the wall, his eyes gleaming with something predatory. “You’re a real beauty. Must be a wild ride.”
I kept my expression neutral, though disgust churned in my stomach. “Did you just eat something rotten in the bathroom? Your mouth stinks.”
The blonde’s face twisted with anger, but quickly morphed back into a leering grin. “How much for a night? Name your price.”
I crossed my arms calmly, assessing the situation. The corridor was narrow, with both men effectively blocking my path back to the main area. I could feel my wolf stirring inside me, sensing danger.
“Funeral vigil: 5,000 dollars a night,” I replied coolly. “Wailing service, add 2,000. Band with traditional music, 2,800. Basic cremation, 499. Wooden coffin, 500 extra.”
Their leers faltered, confusion crossing their faces.
“If the bones aren’t crushed post–cremation, add 1,200,” I continued, my voice steady. “Who in your family died? More than one corpse? Discounts available. Spend 10,000, save 1,000.”
The blonde spat on the floor, his face contorting with rage. “f*****g b***h! Playing hard to get?”
2/3
< Chapter 23 Dangerous En.
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+8 Points
The tattooed one – Brock, I’d later learn advanced toward me, his hands moving to
unbuckle his belt. “Acting all pure? Bet you’ve been with plenty of men. Stop
pretending. Let’s do it right here!”
He nodded to his accomplice. “Drag her into the men’s room and have some real fun.”
Both lunged toward me simultaneously. In that split second, everything slowed down.
My self–defense training kicked in automatically.
I pivoted on my heel and kicked out with all my strength, my foot connecting squarely
with Brock’s groin. The impact was devastating.
A shrill scream tore from his throat as he crumpled to the ground, clutching his crotch in agony. His face instantly drenched in sweat, all color draining away.
The blonde – Tyler – cursed furiously and threw a wild punch at my head. I ducked under his arm, grabbed it, and twisted sharply until a sickening c***k announced his
shoulder dislocating.
His scream joined Brock’s, echoing through the corridor. Both men were down,
writhing in pain on the dirty floor.
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