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Chapter 105
Charlotte raised an eyebrow. So that was her. Ah, now she saw Leif’s game.
Zarek walked over to join the gathering.
Charlotte stayed back. This was supposed to be a wine tasting, and inserting herself would seem odd. If she wasn’t careful, she might end up drafted as the eleventh “beauty.” Then she’d have to deal with wandering hands, and even with Zarek’s protection, she’d still be in an awkward position–not like she could smash a bottle over someone’s head.
Besides, tonight she had a more critical mission… monitoring these people to make sure nothing suspicious ended up in her boss’s drink.
She found a spot where she could observe the entire room without being conspicuous.
In the main hall, several sofas formed a large square arrangement, with multiple coffee tables scattered throughout.
When Zarek arrived, he ignored the seat Leif had obviously reserved for him, choosing instead a single armchair.
The message was crystal clear: keep your distance.
Leif looked uncomfortable.
He adjusted his position too, moving to a spot diagonal from Zarek to facilitate conversation.
The others followed suit, shifting closer to the two power players. They were clearly hoping to ingratiate themselves with Zarek, but he barely acknowledged them, even checking his phone instead.
The Dominex heir certainly knew how to own a room. These people weren’t even on his radar…
Charlotte smiled to herself: As if you people matter.
Shifting her gaze, she noticed Claire playing bartender again. One of the so–called VIPs took the opportunity to grab her backside, his expression predatory. She didn’t protest, only responding with a practiced coy smile.
But Charlotte caught the disgust behind her smile. Even though her mask was nearly flawless.
Charlotte mentally rolled her eyes, looking contemptuously at the rail–thin “VIP“: Some VIP–more like Very
Irrelevant Person.
She then observed Claire pouring Zarek a drink. He politely said, “Thank you.”
It was just basic courtesy–something any decent person would do–yet Claire paused momentarily before smiling and responding, “You’re welcome.” “I’ll let him know,” Charlotte nodded.
She considered warning Zarek that Leif clearly had ulterior motives–trying to drag him into a world of debauchery–but quickly realized someone with Zarek’s intelligence hardly needed the warning.
She texted Ryan with Zarek’s response.
“It’s still early. Let’s take a walk,” Zarek suggested.
Charlotte looked up from her phone. “I’d rather stay in. It’s getting dark, and wandering around these mountains alone is kind of creepy.”
She noticed Zarek’s expression shift and quickly realized her misunderstanding. “…Oh, you meant you wanted to go for a walk?”
“Wandering alone is kind of creepy,” he echoed, his expression oddly melancholic.
“…I’ll come with you,” Charlotte agreed, forcing a smile.
Why couldn’t he just say “I want to go for a walk, come with me“? Every conversation with him felt like a reading comprehension test where she confidently chose an answer only to get it completely wrong.
Made her feel like an idiot.
Zarek glanced at her formal outfit and heels. “Change into something comfortable and different shoes.”
Charlotte nodded and headed upstairs.
She returned wearing casual clothes and flats.
They left around 5 PM.
It was dusk, but not yet dark.
The air was crisp and refreshing, the breeze cool, and the gradually setting sun painted the distant mountains with golden light–truly breathtaking.
Charlotte followed behind Zarek.
She’d worried his long legs would make it difficult to keep up, but he walked slowly, allowing her to enjoy the stroll and appreciate the scenery.
“Ever heard of the legend?” Zarek asked casually.
“What legend?” Charlotte responded.
“They say twilight is a supernatural hour–the witching hour. Creatures lurking in darkness emerge then, taking
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human form or possessing people walking the streets. They might suddenly call your name, and if you respond, they’ll devour your soul…”
His rich, smooth voice carried on the dusk breeze, creating an otherworldly atmosphere that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
Charlotte paused for three seconds.
Then she played along with an exaggerated gasp. “That’s terrifying!”
“Don’t worry, it’s just a story. Thought you might find it interesting.”
“It is interesting. Can they only call your name? What about nicknames or titles? If one calls ‘Mom‘ and a mother answers, does that count?”
She asked with genuine curiosity.
Zarek smiled faintly. “Of course it counts. These creatures don’t just possess people–they can transform into someone you know to trick you, then consume your soul when you’re unaware.”
Charlotte dramatically feigned fear. “Stop, I can’t take anymore!”
Zarek said no more.
Charlotte thought to herself: Playing along with the boss’s ghost stories? All part of the job.
They continued walking.
They reached a pavilion.
By now, the sun had sunk lower, spreading magnificent layers of red and orange across the sky–so stunning it took
her breath away.
As Charlotte was absorbed in the view, Zarek suddenly called her, his voice unnaturally gentle. “Ms. Whitmore.”
She instinctively began to respond.
Then remembered something and quickly clamped her mouth shut.
Zarek waved his hand in front of her face. “Ms. Whitmore? You okay?”
Charlotte kept her head down, silent.
“Ms. Whitmore?”
“Charlotte Whitmore?”
“Charlotte?”
“I’m talking to you. Cat got your tongue?” Zarek cupped her face in his hands, his tone teasing. “Why aren’t you
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answering? Oh wait, is it because of that legend? You’re actually taking it seriously? Come on, it’s just a story. Say something.”
Charlotte remained steadfast.
She closed her eyes.
Not falling for it.
Though it was just a game, she refused to lose!
It was like playing freeze tag–a test of endurance!
What she didn’t realize was that while she was seriously playing this game, her boss had become distracted.
His gaze had settled on her lips, sunset–tinged like rose petals. And she was… completely unguarded.
The pavilion grew quiet, with only the sound of the wind.
Zarek leaned down, inching closer…
Charlotte’s eyes shifted beneath closed lids.
Her heart rate accelerated inexplicably.
His warm breath touched her temple, the tip of her nose, finally hovering near her lips. His voice, husky and intimate: “Even if you don’t respond, I can still devour you–swallow you whole.”
Changing the rules?
Charlotte felt indignant and opened her eyes.
She found herself staring into his handsome face, just inches away, tinted red by the sunset, looking almost otherworldly.
She froze.
As if under a spell, her heart rate and breathing completely derailed.
They remained that close, lips nearly touching, until Zarek finally straightened up with what seemed like disappointment, releasing her face. “You’re just too hard to fool.”
He turned away.
His eyes gazed at the setting sun… Who says the witching hour is just a legend?
Charlotte sat down on a nearby chair, her legs slightly weak.
She touched her face, warmed by the sunset, her heart still racing.
His competitive streak is ridiculous!
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He’d do anything to win!
The last ray of light disappeared into darkness.
The temperature dropped suddenly.
Zarek turned around. “Let’s go. Time to meet some real monsters.”
Charlotte stood up from the bench.
She thought to herself that after being scared by him, she had no energy left for actual monsters.
Does this count as a workplace hazard?
They returned to the villa.
At 6:40 PM, they headed to Leif Hara’s villa.
At the entrance, Charlotte stepped forward to ring the doorbell.
Shortly after, someone opened the door.
It was Leif’s secretary, Claire Dean, whom they’d met at dinner. Even opening a door somehow became a performance of sensuality in her hands.
“Mr. Weasley, please come in.”
Zarek didn’t acknowledge her and walked straight inside.
Charlotte smiled politely at Claire as they both entered, with Claire leading the way.
She guided them to the villa’s central area, a hall large enough for dozens of people, connected to a secluded bamboo grove and a heated swimming pool outside.
Upon entering, they were immediately engulfed by foul air.
Cigarette smoke, alcohol, perfume, and various other unpleasant odors mingled together.
Zarek frowned slightly.
“My dear Mr. Weasley, you’ve finally arrived! I’ve been dying to see you,” Leif rose from the sofa, speaking with excessive familiarity as he strode toward them.
As he approached, he tried to place his hand on Zarek’s shoulder.
This time, Zarek smoothly sidestepped, leaving Leif’s hand hanging awkwardly in the air.
Leif looked visibly embarrassed.
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Chapter 104
Zarek clearly wanted to twist the knife and remarked with a barely concealed smirk, “Quite the party you’ve got going, Mr. Hara. Must be
hausting. I hear some couldn’t even get out of bed today. You really should pace yourself
at your age.”
Leif’s face cycled through several colors.
This arrogant kid, playing it cool.
Just wait–you’ll show your true colors soon enough!
Thinking this, he glanced at Chatanding behind Zarek, his smile turning suggestive. “Ms. Whitmore, your boss
isn’t feeling under the weather today, is he? He can drink now, right?”
Charlotte returned a professional smile. “Mr. Hara, whether our CEO drinks or not is entirely his choice.”
Leif chuckled. “Well, I’m definitely going to get him drunk tonight.”
With a wave of his hand, he added, “Let’s sit down. I’d like to introduce you to some friends.”
The so–called “VIPs” had all stood when Zarek entered.
These industry leaders now wore expressions of eager flattery.
The beautiful women with them also recognized the importance of the young, handsome VIP who had arrived. They stood in small groups, while a few in swimwear by the heated pool outside peered in curiously through the glass.
Charlotte discreetly scanned the room.
She counted the “ten beauties” Ryan had mentioned.
Including Claire, there were only nine. Where was the tenth?
She looked around until finally, at the edge of the pool, partially hidden by plants, she spotted a pair of porcelain–white, delicate legs that looked almost fragile, wearing small white shoes.
The epitome of innocent purity.
Liddon Dast
Her smile wasn’t flirtatious, but dignified and warm.
Charlotte was struck by this glimpse behind the façade.
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But she quickly understood. When you’re treated like an object by someone like Leif, tossed to his friends to be handled at will, even ordinary respect becomes significant.
“Mr. Weasley, this wine is from my private collection. I opened it especially for your visit. It’s been properly decanted–give it a try,” Leif said.
He swirled his glass with one hand, his smile revealing calculation rather than warmth.
Zarek lifted the glass, examined its color, brought it to his nose, then took a small sip. “Hmm, it’s decent.”
His tone was casual, his expression neutral.
The others had prepared exaggerated compliments, especially the four so–called VIPs. One, supposedly a painter, had even mentally prepared an impromptu artwork offer.
But Zarek’s lukewarm “decent” made this million–dollar wine sound like a two–for–one supermarket special…
Leif looked like he wanted to strangle the young executive.
I was doing business with your father when you were still in diapers!
Such a cute chubby baby you were. How did you grow up to be so difficult? Even more impenetrable than your
father.
The atmosphere grew awkward.
The VIPs and their various companions could only stare into their glasses.
Zarek seemed completely oblivious that he’d killed the mood, lounging casually with his drink but showing no intention of taking another sip.
His gaze drifted toward a corner of the outside pool.
Leif noticed him looking outside and followed his line of sight.
Realizing what had caught Zarek’s attention, he smiled knowingly.
So he’d been right.
This was exactly Zarek’s type.
Those self–righteous types always went for this style–disdaining the vulgar, disliking the overtly seductive, preferring to protect the innocent flower.
This was his carefully planned trump card.
“Bring Natalie in,” Leif instructed Claire with a tilt of his head.
Claire walked outside.
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After a moment, she returned with a slender young woman.
The girl wore a light purple dress, had porcelain skin, and thick flowing hair. Her makeup–free face glowed with youth, looking delicate and tender. With a touch of baby fat, gentle features, and wide, clear eyes, she looked at Zarek like a startled deer…
The four VIPs watched her with undisguised hunger.
The other women serving as companions stared at Natalie with expressions ranging from cold dismissal to open hostility to eye–rolling contempt.
Charlotte observed thoughtfully.
She had also seen Zarek looking outside. When had he noticed this girl?
Was he actually interested?
That seemed unlikely.
Setting aside his still–ambiguous preferences, such an obvious trap shouldn’t fool him.
“Natalie, this is Mr. Weasley,” Leif smiled at the girl.
Natalie nervously wrung her hands, head lowered as she introduced herself in a voice barely above a whisper, “Hello, Mr. Weasley. I’m Natalie Yates.”
Her self–introduction had an awkward, unpolished quality.
Of course, coming from such a wide–eyed innocent, this awkwardness would only appear more endearing to most
men.
Zarek said nothing, only offering a faint smile.
Leif spoke unhurriedly, “Natalie, find yourself a seat.”
“…Okay,” Natalie responded anxiously.
She glanced around the room. When her gaze met the VIPs, her nervousness transformed into visible terror. Her hands clasped tightly together, her breathing quickened, and she looked ready to cry.
Meanwhile, the VIPS began to call out to her.
“Natalie, come sit by me. You avoided me last night, and it broke my heart.”
“Don’t listen to him. He wasn’t heartbroken at all–he was having plenty of fun. I’m the one who couldn’t sleep thinking about you.”
“They’re all wolves, sweetheart. Come sit with me, I’ll protect you.”
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Chapter 105
As they spoke, they started to rise toward her. Natalic, frightened, hid behind Claire, looking up at Zarek for help, clearly pegging him as the only decent person present.
Charlotte thought: …
So last night wasn’t just debauchery–they’d been rehearsing this little drama.
From character development to plot progression, quite the production.
Though she had to critique the flaws: with so many seats available, why focus only on sitting next to a man? What, were all the other seats covered in thumbtacks?
And why assume Zarek was a good person? Just because he was handsome… ah, right–the “damsel in distress gravitating toward the most attractive rescuer” was practically a law of physics.
Look at that determined expression, like she was applying for witness protection.
“Stop scaring Natalie,” Claire said protectively, then whispered to the girl, “Quickly find a seat, or they’ll…”
She didn’t finish, simply using her eyes to suggest self–preservation.
Natalie, holding back tears, quickly walked to Zarek’s side and asked nervously, “May I sit down?”
Zarek was in a single armchair, but she acted as if she’d just realized this, looking at him with a helpless, desperate
expression.
Clearly expecting him to find a solution.
“You can…” Zarek began slowly, paused, then said with unexpected kindness, “…squat.”
