Private Marriage, Secret Love-Chapter 124: Give Her a Slap

When Annabelle Spencer saw Raina Reddington, she was about to call out, but then she spotted Ethan Lancaster and darted back into the private room in terror.

Annabelle Spencer waited until Raina Reddington was inside before quickly shutting the door. "Damn it, how do we run into him everywhere?"

"He’s always loved to party. It’s not like he’d go to a bookstore instead of a place like this, right?"

"That bastard son of a bitch."

Raina Reddington glanced at her. "What were you hiding from?"

"You have to hide when you see The Plague." Annabelle Spencer had been on her best behavior ever since that incident. She couldn’t afford to provoke him, but she could afford to hide. Forget about making a living; the innocence she’d preserved for over twenty years was her real treasure.

The manager soon led several people in, some carrying fruit platters, others with alcohol and other beverages.

Raina Reddington sat on the sofa and hugged a throw pillow. "This is all thanks to you, our future boss’s wife."

"Shh!" Annabelle Spencer rushed to cover her mouth. "I’d die of embarrassment if anyone heard that! We’re nowhere near that stage yet."

The manager arranged everything on the table. "I’ll have someone stay. If you need anything, just let her know."

"No, no, that’s not necessary. We’re fine on our own."

"It was Mr. Hayes’s idea. Please don’t make things difficult for me."

Annabelle Spencer was secretly delighted. Raina Reddington glanced over and saw Ingrid Quinn, the woman she had just run into in the restroom.

"Her, then," Raina Reddington said, pointing. Ingrid Quinn recognized her too. Their eyes met; Ingrid was resentful but didn’t dare let it show.

"Very well." The manager gave Ingrid Quinn a few instructions before leading the others out.

Annabelle Spencer laughed and nudged Raina Reddington’s arm. "You know how to live it up more than I do. Why keep her here? I’d rather we just sing and have a few drinks by ourselves."

"Even if we’re having a few drinks, someone still needs to pour them."

How could Ingrid Quinn miss the subtext? She knew Annabelle Spencer was not to be trifled with, so wasn’t Raina Reddington just riding her coattails? She knelt and poured their drinks, adding ice. Raina never went out of her way to make enemies, but she could tell this woman was used to throwing her weight around this place.

"Please."

Annabelle Spencer glanced at Raina Reddington, then had a thought. She leaned close to Raina’s ear. "Don’t tell me she has something going on with Ethan Lancaster?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You don’t seem to like her very much."

Raina Reddington stood up to select a song. "We just didn’t click."

Ingrid Quinn was just a server here; without any backing, she didn’t dare talk back. For now, she had to swallow her pride.

Annabelle Spencer wanted to whisper something to Raina Reddington, which was obviously difficult with Ingrid there. She waved Ingrid away. "We can manage on our own. You can leave now."

"Yes."

Ingrid Quinn walked outside and touched her own cheek. To her, this was even more humiliating than a slap in the face.

"Ingrid," one of her colleagues called out, clacking over in her high heels. "Good gig. Let’s go."

"What kind of gig?"

"A group of rich young masters just arrived. They’re all top-tier, and so handsome you’d normally never even get a glimpse of them..."

Ingrid Quinn’s eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Of course! The manager told me to find some girls, and you were the first one I thought of. Let’s go!"

When Ingrid Quinn entered the private room marked with the character for ’Phoenix,’ she saw several men inside. Ethan Lancaster stood out; he had claimed the most spacious sofa for himself and had no one sitting with him.

Ever since Zachary Lancaster’s accident, he had settled down quite a bit, losing his appetite for debauchery. He’d also gotten a harsh lesson in the fickleness of human nature over the past few months. Some social obligations were hard to turn down completely. Cameron Fairchild had called in a lot of favors for him, and since those people were willing to help, an invitation to hang out was just that—hanging out.

Ingrid Quinn was an expert at picking her targets. She instantly zeroed in on Ethan Lancaster, walking over to sit beside him.

Ethan Lancaster glanced at her without a word. Ingrid Quinn picked up a glass of wine to offer him a toast.

"I’m not drinking."

"Then how about we play a game? Loser drinks."

Cameron Fairchild, sitting across from them, chuckled. "If you can get the Fourth Master to drink tonight—even a single sip—I’ll give you a handsome reward."

"Alright, you have a deal." Ingrid Quinn leaned against Ethan Lancaster. He glanced at her heavily made-up face, feeling no interest whatsoever. His mind was completely preoccupied with who Raina Reddington had come with. He couldn’t stop thinking about how thin she was and wondering if she was even eating properly.

"Fourth Master, what game would you like to play? It’s your call."

Ethan Lancaster didn’t want to bother with her, but he knew he was being a killjoy. He spoke lazily, "Rock, paper, scissors."

"Fourth Master, we have much more fun games than that here."

"Loser drinks. Deal or no deal?"

"Alright." The way Ethan Lancaster said it made it clear he had little interest.

They quickly played a round. Ethan Lancaster lost on the very first try. Cameron Fairchild gloated with a laugh, "Drink up."

Ingrid Quinn handed him a glass of wine, but Ethan Lancaster just told her to put it on the table. "I’ll drink them all at once later."

They played another round, and he still lost.

Ethan Lancaster perked up a little. He refused to believe his luck was this bad. But he didn’t know if he’d met his kryptonite or what, because he proceeded to lose five rounds in a row. Even Cameron Fairchild found it unbelievable. "Is this woman using a cheat code? Or is her plan to drink the Fourth Master to death tonight?"

Ingrid Quinn giggled flirtatiously. "It’s just my lucky day. Or maybe the Fourth Master is letting me win on purpose."

"How could he let you win at this? Are your minds linked, or can you read his thoughts?"

Ingrid Quinn glanced at the man beside her. She was wearing a miniskirt and slid her leg toward Ethan Lancaster until it was touching his, separated only by the fabric of his trousers. "If I could really read the Fourth Master’s mind, I’d be losing every round on purpose."

Ethan Lancaster truly couldn’t believe it. ’Is this for real?’

This wasn’t a card game where she could cheat. He shrugged. "Again."

"Fourth Master, look at how many glasses are already lined up."

"I’ll drink them all later."

Ethan Lancaster truly hadn’t seen this coming. He had actually lost ten rounds in a row. Ingrid Quinn giggled and leaned against him. Cameron Fairchild toyed with his glass. "I say you just skip the drinks. You’ll get wasted if you down all that. Just offer yourself to the young lady as payment instead."

Ingrid Quinn’s heart fluttered as she carefully reached out to touch the back of Ethan Lancaster’s hand.

The man dodged her touch without a trace of effort. With a slight shrug of his shoulder, he forced her to pull away.

"Today’s your lucky day. How about this: I won’t drink the alcohol. Let’s trade the ten glasses for a request. Name something you want, and as long as it isn’t too outrageous, I’ll grant it."

Cameron Fairchild heckled from the sidelines, "Sleep with him!"

"Screw you!"

Cameron Fairchild was obviously joking. Besides, Ethan Lancaster never messed with the women from these kinds of places.

Ingrid Quinn hadn’t just started working in this scene; she knew when to stop pushing her luck. "Fourth Master, I was just bullied by a customer, and I can’t let it go. I’d like you to help me get even."

"How?"

"Just slap her."