Chapter 42
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Georgia’s words hung in the air like a fragile, flickering flame–enough to send a chill straight through Laura’s core. Fear flared in her eyes, not of Georgia, but of Charlotte, the unseen authority whose name wielded power Laura dared not challenge. With a wary glance, Laura stepped back, no longer daring to block Georgia’s path. But beneath that reluctant retreat simmered a deepening loathing, a hatred that burrowed into her chest and festered with every step Georgia took away from her.
Slowly, deliberately, Georgia moved through the sterile hospital corridors, each step measured and steady despite the ache gnawing at her legs. Laura remained oblivious to the transformation unfolding before her–the once timid, broken woman now radiated an unsettling calm, a growing confidence that neither her sickness nor Laura’s scom could extinguish.
Unnoticed by Laura, a figure leaned casually against the doorframe of the ward next to Georgia’s, a man cloaked in casual indifference. His gaze followed Georgia as she disappeared toward the elevator, a faint, unreadable expression playing across his sharp features. Without hesitation, he pushed off from the frame and slid past Laura, heading toward the same elevator,
The elevator descended slowly, its muted hum a quiet accompaniment to Georgia’s slow, painful steps. Her legs trembled beneath her as she made her way through the hospital’s entrance and out onto the bustling street. The chill of the evening air bit at her skin,contrasting starkly with the sterile heat of the hospital room she left behind.
At the intersection, Georgia hesitated before flagging down a taxi. Her voice was quiet but resolute as she asked, “I want to go to Vetro Club. Can you make it a little cheaper?”
The driver’s eyes flicked over her–appraising, disinterested. “I charge by the meter,” he said bluntly. “If you don’t want to go, I’ll leave.”
Georgia dug into her coat pocket, fingers brushing against crumpled bills. She looked up with a faint, tired smile. “I only have ten dollars.”
“That’ll do,” he grunted, opening the door.
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Normally, Georgia would never have indulged in a taxi ride–too costly, too indulgent. But tonight, as the city’s neon lights flickered like distant stars, she allowed herself a brief reprieve. For a moment, she could pretend to be like anyone else on this avenue–walking with dignity, moving through the night with purpose.
The taxi rolled up to the Vetro Club, its gleaming facade a stark contrast to Georgia’s warn coat and bandaged forehead. She stepped out and paused at the entrance, taking a slow, steadying breath. The club was bathed in vibrant lights, its polished exterior promising glamour and escape.
She wasn’t in a rush to enter..
Her fingers trembled slightly as she lifted the gauze from her forehead, revealing the delicate stitches beneath. Carefully, she adjusted her bangs to conceal the raw wound, a silent act of self–preservation. Then, with a deliberate straighten of her spine, she met her own gaze in the reflective glass before stepping inside.
Outside, a sleek blue sports car rolled to a stop, its window sliding down to reveal a strikingly handsome face. The man behind the wheel–the same one who had watched Georgia and Laura in the hospital–smiled with a slow, dangerous hunger. His eyes sparkled with a predatory gleam as he fixed his gaze on the club’s entrance.
“Georgia?” His voice was low, filled with a tantalizing mix of curiosity and desire.
After a pause, he pulled his phone from his suit pocket, fingers moving with practiced ease. “Mason,” he said lazily into the receiver, “have you ever met the most beautiful woman?”
The silence on the other end was telling. Mason’s voice finally came, cautious and wary. “Who’s your latest prey this time?”
The man chuckled, a rich, amused sound. “You know me too well.”
“Tell me about her,” Mason urged, his tone skeptical. He could hardly imagine it was Georgia–the woman Larkin had once encountered and dismissed.
Larkin’s voice dipped with fascination. “Mason, she’s the most fascinating woman I’ve seen in a long time. I’m pretty sure I won’t be bored in Gabbs for the next three months.”
<Chapter 42
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Mason was stunned. “Three months? You’ve never kept your interest in a woman that long.”
“She’s complicated. Proud yet humble–a walking contradiction. She carries pride deep in her bones, but something broke her. I want to find out who did that. I want to bring her back to herself.”
Mason’s voice tightened with unease. Larkin had been his Beta for over a decade, a steady, rational force. But this was new -this obsession.
“Be careful,” Mason warned. “People’s hearts aren’t toys. Don’t go too far.”
Larkin smiled, a slow, knowing curve of his lips. “I’ll do as I please.”
He ended the call, slammed the car door shut, and strode toward the club’s glowing entrance.
Inside, whispers spiraled through the air like smoke. “Why’s she here again? Didn’t she say she was sick?”
“Ignore her.”
“I heard Laura has a lot of beef with her in the dorms.”
“But Laura’s still looking after her, right?”
Georgia passed through it all–furtive glances, whispered gossip, venomous speculation–without flinching. She was used to it. The rumors weren’t about her–they were about survival, about how far someone could fall.
No one cared about the truth, and Georgia had long stopped trying to explain herself.
She opened the door to the Public Relations lounge and slipped into a quiet corner, seeking refuge in the shadows. Yet even here, the buzzing eyes followed, sharp and unkind.
Her fingers instinctively brushed her forehead where the stitches hid beneath her hair. The pain was constant, a dull throb reminding her that the wounds she carried were more than just skin–deep. She concealed the injury not for Laura’s sake, but for her own–a shield to face the world.
Among the other women in the lounge, Georgia was an outcast–an ugly duckling amid swans–yet she sat patiently, waiting for the peculiar clients who might seek her out.
“Georgia, come out,” the Public Relations manager called from the doorway, her tone flat and unreadable.
A hush fell over the room, eyes gleaming with anticipation, hungry for Georgia’s humiliation.
Georgia hesitated, then rose slowly. She met Elaine’s cold gaze. “Elaine, I’ve been sick. Laura already asked for leave for
me.”
wine
Elaine cut her off impatiently. “A customer wants you in the VIP room on the fifth floor.”
The room erupted in shocked whispers.
“Did she say VIP room?”
“Only the rich and powerful get VIP rooms. Who is this guy?”
“Why would he pick Georgia?”
“It has to be some kind of joke.”
“Maybe he has strange tastes. I don’t want to serve that kind of customer.”
“Yeah, me neither.”
