NovelStartThe sensations inside her felt like she was strapped into a roller coaster-one of those wild ones that launches you
up into the clouds, only to drop you back down again, leaving you weightless as a marshmallow floating in the
air.
Sylvia knew her brain was coming up with the weirdest metaphors, but that's just where her mind went.
Pleasant, but also seriously freaky.
Mark stared at her for a moment, his eyes lingering. "Excited, huh? Feels good, doesn't it? You're even more my
type than in your pictures."
Pictures?
Type?
What was he getting at?
Sylvia barely had tto process before Mark unzipped a bag he'd stashed in the corner of the private lounge.
When she saw what was inside, cold terror rushed through her. She started to struggle, every muscle tensed.
Mark just grinned, moving closer with whatever he'd pulled from the bag.
Private Lounge.
The welcdinner for Rupert was hosted by Tristan's cousin-Charles-who also ran the local mining operation.
According to family tradition, Rupert was supposed to address him and his brother as Uncle Charles and Uncle
Steven.
So when Rupert and Bridget walked in, the two men and their families didn't even bother to stand. Honestly,
their youngest sons were old enough to be Rupert's father.
Out here, far from the bustling city, this wasn't London or New York. Rupert wasn't the one calling the shots.
"You made it," Uncle Charles drawled, nodding at Rupert and the woman with him, then gestured to the seats at
the far end of the table. "Take a seat."
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Bridget glanced at the spot, frowning. In a formal dinner, seating arrangements meant everything. No matter
what, Rupert and she were the guests of honor tonight—how could they be shunted to the end?
"Mr. Rupert..." she started, her voice quietly indignant.
"Let's just sit," Rupert replied evenly, gently steering her to the assigned seats.
The dishes on the table had clearly already been picked through, and even the wine bottle was half empty.
Uncle Steven tossed his napkin onto a plate piled with chicken bones and said casually, "Charles and | were
hungry, so we started without you. You kids don't mind, right?"
Leftovers and scraps-hardly a warm welcome. More like an intentional slight.
Rupert's face remained unreadable. "No problem. I'll have the staff bring schicken soup over. Bridget's got a
bit of a chill, a hot meal will do her good."
Bridget blushed, her cheeks pink. "Mr. Rupert, I'm fine, really."
Uncle Charles and Uncle Steven shot her a look.
"So the rumors are true, you two really are in love. We'll be hearing wedding bells soon, huh?" Uncle Steven
teased.
Bridget didn't deny it, basking in the attention. "You're too kind, sirs."
When the soup arrived, Rupert checked its temperature himself before handing it to Bridget, who ate with a
contented smile.
Uncle Charles nodded at the waiter to pour Rupert a drink. "Rupert, even though the Lance family's fallen on
hard times, you don't need to worry so much about the mine. We can't have you and your fiancée worn out over
business, can we?"
“Oh?" Rupert replied, sliding his glass aside and serving Bridget another helping
of roast. "So what do you two have in mind?"
Uncle Steven Shrugged. “We'll get a
couple of guys to quietly pressure the
families into Sigrind‘aailer Saying
ithwas Ten own fault Once we've
cleared ourselves, foss them a little
hush money and be done with it." The
content is on novelenglish.net! Read
the latest chapter there!
"How much money are we talking?" Rupert asked, his voice calm.
"With those signed waivers, just the
bare minimum. Humanitarian stuff.
They wouldn't havea prayer iP ddurt
apyyeyithey re Sst a bunch of
country folks, barely know their own
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rights," Steven chuckled, completely
unconcerned. The content is on
novelenglish.net! Read the latest
chapter there!
Charles, more reserved, didn't comment, but his silence was agreement enough.
Between the two, Charles was the one to watch out for.
Rupert's face stayed placid, impossible to read.
Just then, the door to the lounge swung open.
Orson leaned in to whisper to Rupert, “Sir, there's a situation next door..."
A shadow flickered across Rupert's
eyes, cold and sharp, like Lem
clouds gathering hefotea downpour.
For Bsplit second, something dark
and dangerous glinted in his gaze.
He stood. "Excusea moment."
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