Chapter 75 Coveting My Prey
Selena's POV
I stared at the disconnected phone screen, wanting nothing more than to throw the damn thing straight out the window.
Myrdal.
Who did he think he was? Some kind of savior?
How ridiculous. He refused not because he still had any feelings for me, but because he had his eye on the bigger prize—the Hart Group. He wanted to use me as a stepping stone into the Hart family.
My gaze fell again on that silver USB drive.
Royce Sterling.
Another huge problem.
I hated owing people favors. It made me feel out of control.
I picked up my phone, but instead of calling, I sent a text.
[Consider it repaying the favor. Time and place.]
Less than thirty seconds later, my phone vibrated.
No unnecessary words, just an address and time.
[La Perle, 8 PM.]
I looked it up. La Perle was the city's newest top-tier French restaurant. Supposedly the head chef was poached from a three-Michelin-star establishment, and reservations required at least three months' advance notice.
He certainly knew how to pick a place.
At eight o'clock sharp, I arrived at the restaurant entrance.
A waiter respectfully pulled open the heavy wooden door for me. I walked in, then froze.
In the vast dining room, crystal chandeliers cast a soft glow. Every table was covered with white tablecloths and set with elegant silver cutlery.
But the place was completely empty.
Except for one window seat in the far corner, where a man sat.
Royce.
Today he wore a black shirt with the top two buttons undone, sleeves casually rolled to his elbows, revealing an expensive watch.
He was looking down at some documents. Hearing my heels clicking, he slowly raised his head.
He'd rented out the entire restaurant. I walked over expressionlessly and sat across from him.
"Mr. Sterling certainly spares no expense." I set my purse aside and got straight to the point. "So tell me, what do you want? Money, or shares in the Hart Group? Name your price. As long as it's reasonable, I can give it to you."
I wanted to turn whatever unclear connection we had into a cold, hard transaction in the most direct, brutal way possible.
He closed the document in his hands, leaned back in his chair, and looked at me.
"What if I said I don't want anything?"
"I don't believe that. There's no such thing as a free lunch in this world, especially not from you, Royce Sterling. If you're helping me, you must have your reasons."
"Reasons?" He smiled. "My reason has been clear from the start."
He leaned forward, hands clasped on the table, his gaze burning into me.
"I want you."
My heart skipped a beat, then a wave of intense irritation washed over me.
"I'll say it again—I'm not anyone's property."
"Is that so?" He picked up his wine glass, gently swirling the deep red liquid inside. "Then why did you come? If you really wanted to draw a clear line between us, you could have just mailed a check to my company instead of showing up like this, all dressed up, keeping our appointment."
I glanced down at the black backless evening gown I was wearing.
Right—why had I dressed up for him?
No, wait. This bastard was confusing the issue again.
"I'm just here to solve a problem." I pulled out a blank check and a pen from my purse and pushed them toward him. "Fill in a number, and then we're even."
He didn't even glance at the check.
"Selena, do you think money can solve everything? What do you take me for?"
"Isn't that what it is?"
Just as the tension between us was reaching its peak, there was a slight commotion at the restaurant entrance.
I instinctively turned my head and through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw a familiar figure.
It was Taisia.
Today she wore an extremely revealing champagne-colored slip dress with barely any fabric, clinging tightly to her curvy body.
She had on heavy makeup, her long hair curled into seductive waves, standing at the entrance talking to a tuxedo-clad restaurant manager.
She wore that smile she always used, the one she thought was so charming, her body leaning forward slightly and swaying, apparently trying to use her assets to get the manager to make an exception.
I understood immediately what she was trying to do.
She must have found out somehow that Royce would be dining here tonight, so she'd dressed up like this, hoping for a "chance encounter."
How... pathetic.
Did she think Royce was like Myrdal, the kind of animal who thinks with his lower half? That she could climb the social ladder by showing a little skin?
She'd kicked me out of the Kateson house, thinking she'd won.
Now, seeing me connected with Royce, she couldn't wait to copy my "success story."
She had no idea that what was between Royce and me wasn't at all what she imagined.
"What? Seeing someone you know? That surprising?" Royce's voice pulled me back.
I turned to find he was also looking at the entrance, but his gaze only lingered there for a second before returning to my face, with a hint of mockery.
"Not really someone I know," I picked up my water glass and took a sip. "Just a... pet desperately looking for a new owner."
The struggle at the entrance continued.
The restaurant manager maintained a polite but firm attitude, blocking her from entering.
The smile on her face was about to crack. She'd probably never been so humiliated in front of a man in her life.
She stamped her foot, apparently throwing a tantrum.
Then she saw me.
She saw me sitting in the empty restaurant, across from Royce Sterling.
The expression on her face became incredibly dramatic in that instant.
Unwilling to give up, she pointed inside the restaurant, saying something loudly to the manager.
Though I couldn't hear clearly, I could guess.
She must be saying, why can that woman go in but I can't?
I watched her face twist with anger and humiliation, feeling no satisfaction whatsoever, only boredom.
This was my opponent?
Pathetically weak.
I withdrew my gaze, no longer looking at her. Such a clown wasn't worth any of my energy.
I looked back at the man across from me.
"Now, can we get back to our business?" I pushed the check closer to him again.
Royce ignored the check. He just looked at me, his lips curling into an extremely dangerous smile.
"What?"
"I don't want money." He reached out and picked up the pen I'd placed on the table, spinning it elegantly between his fingers.
Then he used the pen to tap lightly on the table.
"How about you spend tonight with me instead? Then we'll call the favor repaid."