Chapter 101: Chapter 90: Intimacy

Isla Prescott and Shane Sterling’s eyes met from across the room.

His gaze was as cold and indifferent as ever.

Isla Prescott looked away, feeling a pang of disappointment. Just then, her phone suddenly vibrated in her pocket.

She pulled it out and glanced at it. It was, surprisingly, a message from Shane Sterling.

Shane Sterling: “You look pale. Is your stomach bothering you again?”

Isla Prescott replied, puzzled, “How do you know my stomach is bothering me?”

Shane Sterling: “If I’m not mistaken, today should be the first day of your period.”

Although Isla Prescott suffered from cramps, her period was always regular. She was surprised that Shane Sterling could remember her cycle with such precision.

Her cheeks grew warm, and she suddenly didn’t know how to respond.

“Alright, ladies, listen up.” Director Evan Shaw stood up, wine glass in hand. “The main reason we’re all gathered here today is to thank Young Mr. Sterling. Without his sponsorship, our show wouldn’t exist. So, I propose that we all join me in a toast to Young Mr. Sterling.”

Isla Prescott had figured they might have to drink at this dinner, but she hadn’t expected it to start the moment they sat down.

She already felt unwell, and drinking on an empty stomach would only make it worse. She hadn’t had a chance to eat anything yet, and downing this glass would surely leave her feeling even more miserable.

’How can I get out of this?’

Isla’s mind raced as she tried to come up with an excuse, but then she heard Shane Sterling speak up. “My apologies, Director Sheffield, but I won’t be drinking today.”

Director Sheffield was a shrewd man. He immediately feigned concern. “Is something the matter, Young Mr. Sterling? Are you feeling unwell?”

“It’s not that I’m unwell, it’s just… there are always a few days each month…” Shane Sterling paused, his gaze drifting nonchalantly toward Isla Prescott. “…when I don’t feel like drinking.”

’A few days every month when he doesn’t feel like drinking?’

’The nerve of him, saying something like that.’

Still, since he said he didn’t want to drink, no one dared force him.

“Of course, of course.” Director Sheffield said with a fawning smile. “Then Young Mr. Sterling doesn’t have to drink. We will toast you, and you can just substitute water for wine.”

“Since I’m not drinking, how could I let the ladies drink?”

“Very well, very well. In that case, everyone will just use water.” Director Sheffield was the first to swap his wine glass for a water glass. “Come on, everyone, a toast to Young Mr. Sterling.”

Everyone toasted with water and sat back down.

Isla Prescott knew Shane Sterling had gotten her out of a tight spot. She picked up her phone, about to thank him, when she looked up and saw Genevieve Quincy pressed up against his side, whispering something intimately to him.

The little bit of gratitude in her heart instantly vanished without a trace.

The servers began to bring out the dishes, one after another.

To properly host Shane Sterling, the production team had set no budget for the meal. The spread was incredibly lavish, yet Isla Prescott had no appetite at all.

Her stomach pains were one reason, but more importantly, Genevieve Quincy spent the entire meal putting on a deliberate show of intimacy with Shane Sterling.

Isla suspected Genevieve Quincy knew about her and Shane Sterling’s relationship. After all, they had run into each other on Surfsong Island. Genevieve’s ostentatious display was very likely meant to show Isla that Shane Sterling now belonged to her.

The dinner was suffocating. Halfway through, Isla Prescott excused herself to “use the restroom” and stepped outside for some fresh air. She had just reached the entrance to the corridor when she heard footsteps trailing her.

Isla spun around, on guard. She caught a glimpse of a tall, dark figure striding quickly toward her. Before she could react, the person grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the stairwell.

The stairwell’s motion-activated lights flickered on, and Isla Prescott found herself pinned against the wall by Shane Sterling.

“What are you doing?” Isla Prescott glared at him.

“Nothing much. Just warming up your stomach.”

As he spoke, he placed his palm over her lower abdomen.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep