Chapter 1500:
“Try this, Wesley. It’s really sweet and was just caught today.”
Wesley didn’t touch the shrimp the entire meal.
Elena, on the other hand, had a plate full of shrimp, each one served by Wesley.
Once dinner was over, Carola suggested Elena should give her another treatment for her memory loss since she was already here.
Elena followed Carola to her room.
Wesley waited for Elena in the living room. Lyla walked over with a cup of coffee. Just as she reached him, she seemingly lost her footing and the coffee splashed across his pants.
Lyla covered her mouth exaggeratedly.
“Oh no, Wesley! I’m so sorry, I spilled it all over you. You can’t go out like this; everyone will get the wrong idea. Go change into something else. We just got a new delivery of clothes. I’ll have someone bring you a fresh pair.”
She had managed to spill the coffee right onto his lap, practically ensuring it would be misinterpreted.
Wesley looked down and then shot her a cold, unimpressed glance.
Without a word, the butler stepped forward.
“Right this way, Mr. Spencer.”
Wesley followed the butler to one of the guest rooms.
The butler said, “Please wait here. I’ll fetch you some clothes.”
The butler closed the door behind him as he left.
A scented candle was lit in the room, and Wesley sat on the sofa, slowly closing his eyes.
A few minutes later, the door clicked open.
Lyla crept in quietly and spoke in a low voice.
“Wesley, I brought you a new pair of pants. Do you want to change into them now?”
𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓼𝓪𝓯𝓮𝓵𝔂 𝓪𝓽 𝓰𝓪𝗅𝗇𝓸ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⧿ⅽ𝗼𝗺
The room was quiet except for Wesley’s increasingly labored breaths.
Lyla drifted over and found Wesley with his eyes closed, satisfaction flickering on her lips. It seemed the drug worked. She glanced at the scented candle, which had already melted a large section. It had been specially made to arouse desire. Once a man smelled it, he would turn into a beast.
The mere thought of being intimate with Wesley made Lyla feel a wave of shyness. For this, she had slipped into a silk nightgown, its neckline low and inviting.
Sweeping her hair over one shoulder, she arched her back and leaned close.
“Wesley, you must be burning up. Let me help you get comfortable… Ah!”
Before her hand could reach him, his hand shot out and clamped around her wrist.
A cold jolt ran through Lyla. Wesley’s eyes snapped open, sharp and clear, with not a hint of dizziness. His stare cut straight through her, as chilling as an arctic wind.
Fear caught in Lyla’s throat.
“Wesley, what’s going on? Why are you—”
She could hardly believe he was unaffected.
Wesley’s tone sliced into the moment, his contempt obvious.
.
.
.