Chapter 268
Olivia trailed behind Maxwell and the woman he carried into the luxury hotel. Her eyes narrowed as she watched them step into the elevator.
The five-star establishment prioritized guest privacy. To get video evidence of Maxwell's infidelity, she had to book the adjacent room at an exorbitant rate.
As Olivia swiped her keycard in the elevator, a drunk man staggered in beside her.
He was massive, wearing a black cap pulled low over his face. Reeking of alcohol, he collapsed against her. Olivia shoved him away violently.
"Ding!" The elevator arrived.
Olivia rushed out, but the drunk grabbed her shirt hem. "Hey sweetheart," he slurred, reaching for her chest.
Furious, Olivia twisted his arm and slammed him into the elevator wall. His cap flew off, revealing sharp, roguish features.
That face looked familiar.
Crouching, Olivia studied him closely. Handsome, but with a scoundrel's smirk.
Then she recognized him.
Preston Worthington Jr. Her childhood nightmare.
Notorious playboy since middle school, changing girlfriends weekly. He'd tormented her for years before moving abroad. She'd thought herself rid of him forever.
Yet here he was - unchanged.
Olivia kicked him several times. Drunk as he was, he'd never know it was her.
Satisfied, she crept toward Room 6617.
Miraculously, the door stood slightly ajar. The couple must have been in too much haste.
Olivia's pulse quickened. Her lawyer had explained - concrete evidence of adultery could force a divorce settlement in her favor.
She wouldn't waste this chance.
Pulling out her phone, she angled it through the door crack.
Maxwell lay sprawled across the king bed, eyes hooded with pleasure. His lips parted in ecstasy as the woman knelt before him, working diligently between his legs.
"Daddy, I want..." the woman cooed.
Maxwell gripped her chin. "Then work harder," he growled.
Just as he moved to pin her down - flash!
Olivia cursed. In her haste, she'd forgotten to disable the camera flash.
She turned to flee, but a vise-like grip seized her neck.
Gasping, she turned to meet Maxwell's predatory grin...
Evelyn tossed restlessly all night, waking at dawn.
Normally she'd sleep in on weekends, but a throbbing headache kept her awake. She kissed her sleeping twins and powered on her phone.
Dozens of missed calls from Dominic.
One text: [Evelyn, swamped yesterday. Sorry I couldn't call. Please don't turn off your phone when I'm away - I worry. Call me when you see this.]
She dropped the phone. Exhausted.
The past two days had left her mind reeling with unfounded suspicions.
Dressed simply in jeans and a tee, she brushed her teeth when her phone rang.
Olivia. The call ended before she could answer. Then a text:
[Evelyn? Room 6617, Yale Hotel. Urgent. Come now.]
Odd. Olivia always called directly unless...
Uneasy, Evelyn tried calling back.
At the hotel, Maxwell lounged on the bed, idly flipping through Olivia's phone. Cigarette smoke curled around his dangerous silhouette.
Seeing Evelyn's call, he declined without hesitation.
He knew her well enough. Meek as she seemed, Evelyn wouldn't ignore a friend in danger. Even suspicious, she'd come running.
The thought pleased him.
Stubbing out his cigarette, he headed to the bathroom.
En route, Evelyn called repeatedly with no answer. Worried, she proceeded to Yale Hotel.
Arriving at Room 6617, she found the door slightly ajar...