Gideon’s hand settled firmly around the gentle curve of her waist, letting her linger as long as she wished against his lips–a silent permission weighted with
meaning.
He knew he should stop this now.
But…
Gideon swallowed, his throat working as he gazed at the woman before him, her cheeks flushed a delicate pink, as soft and enchanting as spring blossoms.
A heartbeat later, Celestine jerked away in a panic, pressing her hand over her mouth. “Mr. Prescott, I didn’t mean to! I swear, it wasn’t on purpose–you have to
believe me!”
Gideon’s finger traced his lower lip, a wry little smile tugging at the corners of his gray eyes. “Of course. I believe you.”
Still rattled, Celestine clutched the hotel keycard in her hand, her mind slowly catching up to what had just happened.
Not long after, Joanna watched with her own eyes as Celestine entered the suite Lance had arranged.
The man who had just kissed Celestine didn’t follow, but someone else–someone Joanna had contacted–was already waiting for her inside.
A glint of satisfaction flashed in Joanna’s eyes.
Well, Celly, I hope you have a night to remember.
Joanna admired the photo on her phone: Celestine and that man, lips pressed together, looking every bit the perfect couple. She ground her teeth in secret.
What a saint she pretends to be–acting all innocent, when she’s out there sneaking around with other men!
But with this video, Joanna could bring Celestine down for good–and make sure everyone saw it happen.
She reached out to a few news outlets she’d worked with before. Within minutes, the teaser was already circulating online.
With everything in motion, Joanna ditched Lance and went to find Chester, who was searching everywhere for Celestine.
1/3
17:23
“Chester, Celly just finished dinner and probably went to bed already. If you’re worried, why don’t we go check on her? She’s in Lance’s suite.”
“Why would she be there?” Chester’s brow furrowed.
Since when were Lance and Celestine so close? Even if they needed a room, they should have gotten a new one.
Joanna hesitated, then said, “Celly had a bit to drink and wasn’t feeling well. I took the liberty of asking Lance to open a room for her. Don’t be mad at me, Chester.”
“I’m not mad,” Chester replied, visibly relieved. “Let’s go see her.”
The two made their way down the corridor, stopping outside the suite.
Joanna stared at the closed door, excitement thrumming in her veins.
All it took was opening this door and everything would be over.
She glanced toward the shadows, where a group of paparazzi lay in wait.
The moment the door opened, they’d burst in, cameras flashing. One setup was a live stream–just for Celestine.
By then, the whole internet would witness her “affair.”
Even if nobody recognized Celestine, once Mrs. Fordham’s name came out, Chester’s reputation would be in ruins.
There’s no way someone as proud as Chester could stomach being with a woman so thoroughly disgraced.
She’d make sure Celestine paid dearly for daring to steal what was hers.
Joanna’s smile turned icy.
“Chester, let’s hurry. If Celly’s not feeling well, we should look after her.”
Chester nodded, oddly touched by Joanna’s apparent concern.
If only Celestine had half Joanna’s generosity, things wouldn’t have come to this.
Joanna handed over the spare keycard Lance had given her.
Chester took a steadying breath, swiped the card, and opened the door.
With a soft beep, the door swung open, and suddenly, sounds from inside spilled out–a tangle of muffled, unmistakable moans filled the air.
Chester froze, rooted to the spot.
17-24
There was no mistaking
belonging to a man and a woman.
Joanna’s lips curled in a satisfied smirk, quickly hidden.
Feigning confusion, she asked, “Chester, do you hear something? I think I hear a man’s voice.”
Chester’s face darkened, a cold fury radiating from him.
How could she?
He was so consumed by shock and anger that he didn’t even register Joanna’s question, his world narrowing to the betrayal unfolding before him.
