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Charlotte wasn’t quite certain where Preston’s true feelings lay, so she recounted the incident with a measured calmness.
At first, only Yvette–her client–and Georgia knew exactly what had transpired that day.
Georgia bore the pain in silence, never letting a word slip. In fact, it was Yvette who, treating it like a joke, spilled the story to others at Vetro Club.
That was how Charlotte came to hear of it.
Simon’s eyes grew wide with surprise. “Even though Yvette isn’t a werewolf, she’s far crueler than any beast,” he remarked.
Preston’s expression hardened, icy and unreadable.
He nodded once at Charlotte. “Bring Yvette here. I’ll be waiting in Room 1.”
Without another word, he turned and strode toward the elevator.
Simon, a doctor for the Dark Spike Pack and one of Preston’s closest friends, caught the restrained fury simmering beneath Preston’s calm exterior.
Why did Preston flare up so fiercely when others tormented Georgia?
Not long after, Charlotte returned, escorting Yvette and Raven into Room 1.
Neither woman understood why Preston had summoned them.
Upon hearing the news, both had been elated.
Raven was a werewolf, though not of the Dark Spike Pack, and had long dreamed of joining its ranks.
Yvette harbored a different hope: to become Preston’s lover, attracted by his wealth and power.
Preston lounged on the sofa with an effortless air, his voice low and magnetic as he asked, “Who are Raven and Yvette?”
“I’m Yvette,” she replied quickly, her eagerness barely concealed.
Raven glanced at Yvette with thinly veiled disdain, skeptical that the Alpha of the Dark Spike Pack would ever choose such
a woman.
Still, Raven stepped forward. “I’m Raven.”
Simon settled into the opposite sofa, pouring himself a glass of red wine. He took a slow sip, eyes flicking over the two women, dressed provocatively and clearly vying for Preston’s attention.
A wry smile tugged at Simon’s lips. The desire burning in their eyes was painfully obvious.
“Who wants to go first?” Preston asked, voice smooth but detached.
Simon nearly choked on his wine, silently hoping Preston wouldn’t speak so ambiguously and stir misunderstandings.
“I’ll get you some wine, Mr. Hill,” Raven offered, trying to hide her nervousness.
Yvette matched her with a charming grin. “Let me pour your wine and feed you some fruit, Mr. Hill.”
Simon fought the urge to laugh outright.
They didn’t realize they were already sealing their own fates.
Charlotte knocked gently and entered with a suitcase. “Mr. Hill, I’ve brought what you requested.”
Under Preston’s cold gaze, Charlotte placed the suitcase on the table and clicked it open.
The sight inside stunned Yvette and Raven.
Their eyes gleamed greedily as stacks of cash spilled into view. Neither could find words.
Suddenly Preston stood, drawing their attention.
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With a casual, almost elegant flick of his hand, he tossed a hefty wad of bills into the air.
He fixed Raven with a steely glance. “Crawl on the floor and gather every last bill.”
Raven hesitated, whispering, “Mr. Hill, I don’t think this is wise.”
“There’s nothing unwise about it. Do as I say.”
Years working at Vetro Club had taught Raven to sense the Alpha’s overwhelming authority.
Still, she pleaded softly, “Please, Mr. Hill, don’t make this difficult. I don’t want your money. I admire you too much.”
Simon chuckled quietly at Raven’s pretentious tone.
“Charlotte, remind her of the club’s rules,” Preston ordered without looking at Raven.
Charlotte’s eyes darkened as she faced Raven. “Raven, the customer always comes first. If they demand you crawl, then crawl. If they ask you to drink, then drink. You’ve been with Vetro Club long enough. Don’t you remember the rules?”
“Charlotte, 1- Raven stammered.
“Think carefully before you speak again.”
The cold edge in Charlotte’s voice forced Raven to grit her teeth and lower herself.
“Pick up every bill on the floor.”
Reluctantly, Raven obeyed.
She thought the humiliation would end there. But then a faint voice echoed over her head: “Move your waist. Sway your hips. You look like a dead fish.”
Raven’s face drained of color.
Suddenly it dawned on her. Her situation mirrored Georgia’s not long ago.
Despite her profession, Raven had never before been so utterly degraded by a customer.
Her pride rebelled against it. She was nothing like Georgia–willing to stoop to any depths for money.
“Didn’t you hear what Mr. Hill said?” Charlotte snapped coldly. “Swing your hips.”
Raven’s shame boiled over.
“Charlotte, Mr. Hill, I refuse this money!” she snapped, rising angrily.
She fixed Preston with a glare. “I won’t crawl and I won’t take this.”
A faint smile curved Preston’s thin lips. “Who said the money on the floor is yours?”
Raven gasped, furious. “Mr. Hill, you may be the Alpha of the Dark Spike Pack, but that doesn’t give you license to insult me. This is Vetro Club, and no matter who you are, you must abide by the rules.”
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