Chapter 20
reston smirked at the strained expression flickering across Georgia’s face
With a cruel edge to his voice, he taunted, “Georgia, you’ve been quite the revelation today. I wonder how your brother would react if he saw you looking so… pitiful.”
You can’t do this, she thought, biting back the words she almost spoke. Her fingernails dug into her palm as a cold clarity swept over her. She refused to meet Preston’s gaze in the mirror, terrified that he might see right through her facade.
“Mr. imprisoned in a werewolf penitentiary. The
Hill,” she said quietly, “I don’t have a brother anymore. I’m a rogue, o Silver Stream Pack would never accept a murderer like me.”
Preston blinked, caught off guard by her confession. Then a harsh laugh escaped him. “Georgia, I misjudged you. You’re colder than I thought. No wonder you crossed that line.”
His words sliced through her like a blade, sending tremors deep into her core. She thought bitterly, Cold–blooded? Preston, you’re the one who made me this way.
“But I have to ask,” he murmured, his tone dripping with dark curiosity, “if your heart’s so frozen, does your body feel the same? Or…?”
Georgia stiffened when she heard the implication.
Suddenly, a scorching heat pressed into her back. Preston’s hand clenched tightly around her waist, and a shiver of fear raced through her veins. Her eyes flicked downward, catching sight of his palm resting against her abdomen
Though his intention was to humiliate her, Preston found himself drawn closer, intoxicated by the faint scent that clung to her skin. His wolf snarled beneath the surface, battling for control. Luca, his primal side, sought dominance, but Preston struggled to hold on.
His fingers fumbled with the buttons of Georgia’s coat, sliding beneath the fabric of her dress. She trembled again, feeling
the warmth of his hand.
ring a sweater under the coat. It was summer, yet her body
ory was
Preston’s brow furrowed in confusion–Georgia was wearing
cool beneath his touch.
Wolves typically ran hotter than humans, built to endure the cold. Preston couldn’t grasp why Georgia flinched from the
chill
He hesitated, reaching to lift her sweater.
“Preston!” Georgia’s alarmed voice stopped him.
An electric jolt seemed to pulse through his fingertips at the sound of her voice–a strange, thrilling sensation,
He narrowed his eyes, asking. “What did you just call me?”
Her shoulders shook, and she forced out, “Mr. Hill,”
Beneath the sweater, his hand continued its slow, maddening caress over her belly, sparking a surge of electricity through
her nerves.
The touch drifted dangerously close to a wound she desperately wished to keep hidden.
Her heartbeat quickened, and she gasped, “Mr. Hill
“Yeah?” he whispered, his voice thick with desire.
She bit her lip. “Mr. Hill, didn’t you already reject me? What about Giselle?”
At the mention of Giselle, Derek’s y
younger sister, memories flooded Preston–her face, the way he felt when he found her lifeless body three years ago.
Suddenly, clarity returned. His desire evaporated, replaced by a raw, bitter hatred for the woman in his arms–the same woman who had taken Giselle from him.
< Chapter 20
He released her with a growl. “Get out.”
Georgia stumbled from the bathroom, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere. She didn’t dare look back as she fled through the door.
Preston remained alone in the office, his body radiating a chill that could freeze the very air and shatter their hearts.
Neither of them noticed the shadow lurking just beyond the doorway.
Yvette watched silently, her eyes narrowed as she observed the charged embrace between Preston and Georgia.
She kept her distance–aware of Preston’s sharp hearing and unwilling to risk detection.
Though she couldn’t hear their words, she saw the heated exchange, the release, and Georgia’s retreat.
Before Georgia emerged, Yvette slipped away quickly.
She couldn’t believe that Preston–the secretive, untouchable kingpin of the Vetro Club–would lower himself to be with Georgia, someone so lowly, cowardly, and plain.
Many women at the club lusted after Preston but never dared approach him; he kept everyone at arm’s length.
Jealousy twisted Yvette’s face into a feral snarl.
Her mind flashed back to the other day–when Dominic had been interrupted in their moment of intimacy by Georgia.
Hatred for Georgia deepened with that memory.
Returning to the lounge, Yvette spread the rumor that Georgia shamelessly seduced Preston.
Unaware of this, Georgia entered the lounge, immediately sensing dozens of eyes darting toward her, whispered conversations breaking into fits of suppressed laughter.
She barely cared–perhaps because her abrupt transfer to Public Relations had already stirred whispers.
But this was different.
“The bitch is here,” a voice sneered.
Georgia’s face drained of color as she realized Raven was pointing at her, sneering the cruel epithet.
“Raven, tone it down. I’m not blind–I see the real bitch,” another voice jeered, repeating Yvette’s claim that Georgial
seduced Preston.
Raven, furious that Georgia had usurped her position, sneered in reply.
“She plays the dog for the guests–wagging her tail, begging for scraps. She even barked and snatched money with her mouth. Disgusting.”
Georgia blinked, the world suddenly darkening around her.
To everyone else, she stood frozen, face pale and horrified.
But inside, she sank into an endless abyss.
Though her sight failed her, her hearing sharpened–the mocking laughter ringing like daggers.
If I could just die right here, she thought, it would be the merciful end.
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