Chapter 4 Chapter 4: Revealing the True Nature

Gideon's gaze occasionally wandered to the dance floor, the hot bodies of the scantily clad women an enticing temptation. If not for accompanying Dorian, he would have eagerly indulged in unbridled revelry.

His roving eyes caught sight of the beauty up on the stage, stirring his lustful urges even more.

Dorian remained silent, his long legs elegantly crossed while the dim lighting shrouded him in an aura of aloof dominance.

"I just don't get it," Gideon said, his unfocused gaze lingering on the stage. "Celeste is such an accomplished, gorgeous woman. Why don't you desire her? Violet has nothing on Celeste - in looks or pedigree. She doesn't deserve you."

He took a sip of the chilled wine, the fiery liquid setting his blood afire.

As soon as he finished, Dorian shot him a cold, withering glare that sent a chill down Gideon's spine.

"Alright, alright, I'll shut up now." Gideon raised his glass. "More drinks!"

Dorian's expression darkened as he drained his wine, oblivious to his friend's sly looks and mocking smirks.

"Look at that hottie on stage," Gideon laughed lecherously, pointing. "Wild and untamed - now that's a real woman."

Engrossed with his phone, Dorian ignored him, his attention fixed on the screen.

A year had passed.

Violet had said she'd contact him after his divorce.

But despite a flurry of texts and calls, she hadn't responded.

Agitated, Dorian loosened his tie and tossed it aside, rising to fetch another drink.

At that moment, his gaze swept across the stage. He froze as his phone slipped from his grasp.

The screen lit up, displaying "Violet," but he didn't notice.

The phone hit the floor and shattered into pieces.

Dorian's focus had zeroed in on the woman onstage.

Celeste.

Unbelievable.

She exposed her true nature so soon after their divorce!

Fueled by alcohol or Violet's silence, rage clouded Dorian's judgment as he stormed toward the exit.

Gideon checked his watch, a devious countdown beginning.

Three... two... one.

Before reaching the door, Dorian collapsed to the floor.

Gideon rushed over, grinning as he patted Dorian's face.

"After a year of celibacy for Violet, I couldn't let her have your virginity for free when you rekindle things."

...

On stage.

Celeste descended, sweat-drenched as raucous cheers and whistles erupted below.

Navy Nights attracted its share of wild, sensual dancers, but few exuded Celeste's bewitching blend of icy poise and smoldering allure.

The men longed to approach this enchanting woman for a night of passion.

But her disdainful air rebuffed all advances.

The man in a grey suit waited nearby, gentlemanly offering a handkerchief as she stepped down.

Celeste eyed it - pristine and seemingly unused. With a polite smile, she refused.

A bit of a germaphobe, she disliked using others' belongings, even if the handkerchief was fresh.

Besides, the man's intent was clearly unsavory.

Celeste wove through the crowd back to the bar.

The bartender had a drink ready. "Bloody Mary again?"

"Yes, please."

Celeste gracefully accepted the cocktail, sweat trickling down her neck as she fiddled with the rose garnish, lost in thought.

Her idle motions drove the men wild with desire.

Though rebuffed, the grey-suited man lingered, confident his prize wouldn't elude him.

After a few sips, Celeste felt a creeping grogginess.

Her alcohol tolerance wasn't that low unless. Her brow furrowed as she realized her drink had been doctored.

But she remained outwardly composed, offering the bartender a polite smile before departing.

Celeste hurried away, heading for her car.

Heavy footsteps followed close behind.

She dared not look back as the effects muddled her senses.

At this rate, she wouldn't last much longer.

Digging her nails into her wrist, using the pain to cling to awareness, she stole glances around until finally collapsing.

...

At Noble Crest Hotel.

Celeste drifted in and out of consciousness, a heavy masculine presence looming over her.

Startled by the familiar face, her eyes flew open as she shoved him away.

"It was you. How despicable."

The grey-suited man grinned deviously. "We came to play. Might as well get our money's worth."

As he reached to undress her, Celeste panicked and sank her teeth into his arm.

The man cried out, eyes flashing with malice before backhanding her viciously. "Strutting on stage like a tease, then acting coy? Spare me."

The stinging blow split her lip, leaving bloody welts.

But it also jolted Celeste back to full lucidity. Defiant, she glared at him, then as he leaned in, kneed him in the groin.

Amid his anguished howls, Celeste tumbled off the bed, grabbed an ashtray, and bashed him over the head.

Celeste staggered toward the door as the man clutched his head, howling.

"Filthy whore, where do you think you're going?"

Gone was the cultured demeanor from the bar. Now the man radiated murderous intent, bloodied but undeterred as he gave chase.

Disoriented, Celeste's vision blurred and doubled as she blindly fled.

The menacing footfalls closed in, her heart pounding in her throat.

The deserted hotel hallway felt oppressively stuffy. A flush crept across Celeste's pallid features as she ran, her energy rapidly waning.

Unable to go further, she rounded the corner and barged through the nearest door. She slammed it shut and jammed the lock.

The man knew which room she had entered. He pounded furiously on the door, spewing vile curses. "Get out here, bitch! If I get in there, I'll kill you!"

Terrified he would kick the door down, Celeste mustered her remaining strength to barricade it with furniture before staggering into the bathroom.

She had to douse herself with cold water to counteract the drugs coursing through her system.

Outside, the impatient man prepared to kick the door in.

Just then, a gruff voice came from behind as a hand clamped down on his shoulder.