Chapter 267: Chapter 267

The bathroom door opened.

Emilia stepped out, paused in the doorway when she saw me, then walked slowly to the bed and sat at the edge.

“Hey,” I said gently. “Emilia.”

“Evan, right?” She kept her voice low. “Um… thank you for bringing me here.”

“No problem,” I said. “I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I’m good.” Her jaw tightened, suddenly angry now. “You damn thief.”

I winced. “I’m sorry. But I needed Guy’s phone to bring him down. And we did. Thanks to you.”

“It almost cost me my life,” she snapped. “Do you have any idea what I went through? When he sent a fucking assassin to my home?”

I lowered my gaze for a second. “I’m sorry. Really. I didn’t want any of that to happen. But I had no other choice at the time.”

She covered her face with both hands, elbows on her knees. Her breathing trembled before she let it out slowly. After a moment, she lifted her head—still exhausted, but calmer.

“What’s done is done,” she said. “Now you need to clean your mess, Evan.”

“My mess?” I asked, confused.

“I have nowhere to stay,” Emilia said, eyes sharp again. “Charlotte told me my house was picked clean. Nothing left.”

“You talked to Charlotte?” I asked.

“Yes. I called her.” Emilia folded her arms. “She told me she knew you. And that you were trouble. And, also, that you kidnapped her.”

Maeve turned sharply at that, eyes widening. Then she silently looked back out the window like she wanted no part of this conversation.

I sighed. Hard.

Because of Cora, because of that night… Charlotte didn’t trust me. Not completely. Not yet.

“I’m sorry,” I said again. “But it was necessary at the time.”

Nala swung the door open so fast it nearly smacked the wall. Her heels clicked sharply as she walked in, her expression tight. First she looked at me, then Maeve, then Emilia sitting on the bed, then back at me—eyes narrowing in that we needed to talk.

She jerked her head toward the hall.

“Come,” she said.

A little confused, I followed her out. She shut the door behind us and crossed her arms, shifting her weight to one hip like she was bracing herself.

“Evan,” she said, voice low but tense. “Why is there a prostitute staying in the downstairs rooms of the penthouse?”

I blinked. “Oh. That’s Eleanor.”

“You need a prostitute now?” she asked, eyebrows rising. “Seriously, Evan?”

“No—no, I don’t!” I said quickly, lifting my hands a little. “She helped me take down Guy. Because of that, he froze her bank accounts and kicked her out of her home. She was staying at her mother’s place. She came to me for help.”

“And your help was giving her our room?”

“We were only using one of the rooms,” I said. “I figured she could stay in the spare one for a bit. Just until she gets her life back together.”

Nala’s shoulders loosened a bit. She dragged a hand over her forehead and exhaled, the tension slowly dropping from her posture. She looked more relieved than angry now, but still shaken.

“I thought…” she said quietly, “you hired a prostitute.”

I stepped closer and softened my voice. “Hey. I promised I wouldn’t hide other relationships from you. If I was going to bring someone into… whatever we have? You’d know. You don’t need to be scared of that. Trust me.”

“I do trust you,” she said, meeting my eyes. “It’s just—Evan… why are you so helpful toward others?”

“This talk again?” I smiled a little, leaned forward, checked the hallway, and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. She closed her eyes at the touch, letting herself relax into it. “You don’t have to worry. I’m careful.”

“So… are you thinking of using Eleanor’s services?”

I frowned, shaking my head. “No. Of course not. I’m not going to pressure her into anything just because I gave her a place to stay,” I said, my voice firm. “You know I’m not like Guy.”

Her smile lingered, but there was something more calculating in it now. “Let me rephrase that,” she said, her tone smooth, almost teasing. She cleared her throat. “If Eleanor was… okay with you, would you take her to bed?”

I exhaled slowly. “I don’t pay for sex. You know that.”

She didn’t back down, her eyes locking onto mine with an almost predatory focus. “Let me rephrase it one last time,” she said, her voice dropping lower, almost a whisper. She cleared her throat again. “If she was okay with having sex with you… no money involved, just… you and her… would you sleep with her?”

I swallowed hard. “I think I’ll pass this question.”

She punched my shoulder, not hard but definitely not soft, either. I pretended to wince, then laughed, and she shook her head in amused frustration.

“Even my brother was charmed by Eleanor,” Nala said. “She really is a beautiful woman.”

“A total milf, right?” I teased.

Nala smirked. “I think Delilah is the milf for me. You saw how she acted toward Minne? Like a mom swooping in to protect her.” She leaned in close enough that her breath hit my ear. “Can’t lie… that made me wet as hell.”

I blinked. “Did it now?”

She pulled back with a wicked smile. “You have no idea.”

We chuckled for a moment longer, the sound filling the room before gradually dying down. Maeve stepped up to the door and opened it, her white lab coat swishing around her as she slid her hands into its pockets, her posture effortlessly professional.

“Ms. Nolin,” she said, her voice calm and direct. “Emilia is all set. But… she doesn’t have anywhere to stay.”

I glanced over at Nala, my mind already working. “Can we arrange a place for her? A house or something?”

“My brother had a property, a place for his… most esteemed guests,” Nala explained, a slight, almost amused edge to her voice. “Mostly CEOs from overseas, you know, important people. We can put Emilia there for a few weeks—nothing permanent.”

“That works.” I nodded, satisfied. “Thanks, Nala.”

Maeve gave a curt nod in return. “I’ll let her know. But… she’ll need someone to stay with her.”

“Charlotte,” I replied without hesitation. “I was planning to talk to her about finding Eleanor a job at Stingy Ladies. She can stay with her for now, no problem.”

Nala considered this for a moment before nodding in agreement. “Okay. You’re free to leave early, Evan. Talk to Charlotte and sort things out.”

I smirked, a touch of sarcasm in my voice. “Yes, bossman.”

Nala rolled her eyes, the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Oh, shut up. Chop-chop, Marlowe. You don’t get paid to sit around all day.”

❤︎‬‪‪❤︎‬‪‪❤︎

I pushed the door open and stepped into Stingy Ladies. The place was quieter than usual—no pounding bass, no dancing crowd—just a handful of tables occupied by people sipping orange juice and soft drinks. Daytime mode.

Behind the counter, Charlotte was lining bottles on the wall shelves, her red-dyed hair falling in a curtain around her face. When she heard my footsteps, she turned.

The moment her eyes landed on me, her whole expression shifted. Her face tightened, shoulders squared, jaw clenched.

“You,” she muttered. “What do you want?”

“Emilia called you,” I said. “Good.”

“Yeah, no thanks to you.” She slammed a bottle onto the shelf and shot me a glare. “Why didn’t you let me know she was alive, you moron?”

“I tried.” I walked up to the counter. “You weren’t here, and the bouncer at the door refused to give me your number.”

Charlotte finished her bottle arrangement and leaned forward on her palms. She didn’t look like she wanted me anywhere near her, but the fact she hadn’t kicked me out yet meant I’d climbed my way out of the ’enemy’ zone—barely. Considering I’d kidnapped her by proxy thanks to Cora’s vampiric insanity, and she nearly got her breast ripped off… honestly, I was surprised she wasn’t throwing punches.

“So?” she asked. “Why did you come? You want some applause because you saved Emilia?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Emilia’s getting placed in a temporary home, but she can’t be alone. I thought you might want to stay with her.”

Charlotte’s expression softened just a bit, then went neutral again. She shrugged like it didn’t matter, but I could tell it did.

“Fine,” she said. “Whatever.”

“Give me your number. I’ll text the address.”

She pulled her phone from her pocket, tapped the screen, and we exchanged numbers quickly. When that was done, I slid my phone away and let out a breath. One major task down.

Now for the next one: Eleanor.

If she was staying with me, I wasn’t letting her go back to prostituting herself. She needed a job. A stable one. And I knew exactly where she could start.

“I need to ask you something else,” I said. “You need a waitress? Or a bartender?”

“No.” She didn’t even blink.

“Well, you will.” My voice dropped, firm. “I’ve got someone who needs the work. She’s a good sort.”

“No.”

I leaned forward and slapped my palm on the counter. “Then Emilia can fucking enjoy living on the street and freezing to death. Good day, Char.”

I turned toward the door, yeah, bluffing hard, but before I reached it, her voice cut through the room.

“Stop!”

I looked back. She was standing there with a hand on her hip, her chest rising as she tried to calm herself. She knew I was bluffing, and yet… not enough to risk calling it. Thank fuck.

“I know you wouldn’t throw Emilia out,” she said. “But fine. I’ll take your second. She can help behind the counter.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“She’s not getting full salary,” Charlotte warned. “And no tips.”

“That’s fine.”

“I’ll need her number.”

“I’ll text it.”

“Mm.”

I turned to go, but something nagged at me. “How’d you know I wasn’t actually going to abandon Emilia?”

Charlotte smirked—sharp, annoyed, but genuine. “I’m good at reading people. Now get the hell out of my club. Motherfucker…”

I held my hands up. “Going.”

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