Chapter 4
“Chloe?”
In the private room, Kieran Vaughn watched me carefully.
I sat curled up on the couch, tears silently streaming down my face.
“Don’t cry. I had people delete all the videos and photos of you-there’s not a trace of you online.”
He frantically wiped my tears.
“Thank you.”
I reached for my wrist, slipped off my only bracelet, and placed it in his hands:
“I’ll never forget what you did for me. This bracelet is from my mom-it’s all I have left of her. When I make it big, I’ll come back with enough to repay you and get this back.”
“Chlee!”
He stopped me as I headed for the door.
Kieran’s throat worked:
“I saved you because I care about you, not because I want you to owe me anything.”
I didn’t turn around.
‘Chloe…”
His breathing shook slightly:
“I need you to understand-I like you because I want to GIVE you things, not take them from you.”
I turned around.
Tears had completely soaked my face:
‘Then can you destroy Dylan Cross?”
‘Absolutely.”
He stepped closer:
‘Of course I can, Chloe.”
He gently pulled me into his arms.
‘I was planning to do that anyway.”
Meanwhile, in the private room, Scarlett was partying hard with everyone on the dance floor.
Someone wandered over to Dylan’s table, curious:
“Dylan, how come you’re not dancing with Scarlett tonight? Usually you’d never let her dance with other guys.”
“Did someone take clothes over there?”
Dylan hadn’t touched the drink in his glass.
13:18
Six Side chick wuda tiiu Dumo Me 100 Tires! bove Warch Him Best
“Oh! You mean Chloe! Yeah! Look, we sent them ages ago!”
As he said this, he showed Dylan the photo-
Chloe and some guy with their backs to the camera, her wrapped in a suit jacket.
The guy’s build looked exactly like the person they’d sent with clothes.
Dylan’s grip on his glass relaxed slightly, finally in the mood to actually taste his drink.
“The punishment’s over now. Get someone to take care of her properly-she gets cold easily, can’t handle winter wind.”
“Yes sir!”
Dylan drained his glass and stood up, smiling as he walked onto the dance floor toward Scarlett.
Meanwhile, the friend who’d been talking to him was about to make a call when a guy came back with clothes in hand.
“What took you so damn long? How hard is it to deliver clothes?”
The guy looked confused:
“Where was the person Mr. Cross mentioned? I couldn’t find anyone.”
The friend froze and looked down at the photo.
Then grabbed the clothes irritably:
“Whatever, forget it. Someone else probably helped her.”
“That person’s got balls then, going against Mr. Cross.”
