Chapter 186

"Daniel Chen, Emily Smith is in the Presidential Suite No. 1 at the Four Seasons Hotel." William Johnson's voice carried a hint of amusement through the receiver. "Whether you come or not is up to you."

Daniel's fingers tightened instantly. The call ended abruptly, leaving only the dull hum of the dial tone.

He stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his reflection showing a tense jawline. Eleven at night, a man and a woman alone in a hotel suite... The thought was like a blunt knife slowly sawing at his nerves.

His phone screen went dark. Daniel grabbed his coat and rushed out the door.

Inside the Four Seasons suite, Emily stared at the disconnected phone, her fingertips cold. She hadn't expected William to call Daniel out of the blue, let alone use such ambiguous phrasing.

"Satisfied?" William tossed the landline back onto the table, a cold smirk playing on his lips.

Emily turned and headed straight for the door.

"Stop!" William seized her wrist. "In such a hurry to throw yourself at him?"

She struggled but couldn't break free. "I'm just going to wait by the door."

"Wait?" William suddenly laughed, though his eyes remained icy. "Dressed like that?" His gaze swept over her thin nightgown, his Adam's apple bobbing.

Emily yanked her hand back and stumbled two steps, colliding with the hallway cabinet. The corner dug into her waist, but the pain was nothing compared to her humiliation.

"William," she took a deep breath, "don't make me hate you."

The words doused William like a bucket of cold water. He released her, irritably loosening his tie. "Go wait on the couch," he gestured to the living room. "Touch that doorknob, and I won't hesitate to take you right here."

Emily pressed her lips together and retreated to the living room. The floor lamp cast her shadow against the wall—slender, fragile, like a bamboo stalk on the verge of snapping.

Silence stretched between them. William leaned back in the armchair, eyes closed, his lashes casting shadows under his eyes. Then, the doorbell rang sharply.

Emily practically leaped up and ran to the door. She pulled it open to find Daniel standing there, the chill of the night still clinging to him, beads of sweat at his temples.

"Daniel..." Her voice trembled with unshed tears.

His eyes quickly scanned her, confirming she was unharmed before pulling her into a tight embrace. "It's okay," he murmured, his voice impossibly gentle as he stroked her back.

Emily buried her face in his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of his woody cologne. Her tense nerves finally relaxed.

Daniel looked up, locking eyes with William across the room. The two men's gazes clashed—one calm and controlled, the other simmering with dark intensity.

"Thank you for looking after my girlfriend, Mr. Johnson," Daniel said first, each word deliberately weighted.

William rose, leisurely adjusting his cuffs. "Don't mention it." He smirked. "After all, Emily and I..." He deliberately trailed off, leaving the implication hanging.

Emily jerked her head up. "Let's go," she whispered, tugging at Daniel's sleeve, her voice shaking.

Daniel tightened his arm around her and turned away, tossing over his shoulder, "Watch yourself, Mr. Johnson."

The moment the door closed, William slammed his fist onto the coffee table. The glass cracked like a spiderweb, blood dripping between his fingers.