Chapter 495: Into the Tiger’s Den, Taken Tonight
Claire Sinclair stood at the door, her slender legs nearly unable to stand straight due to the intense running.
"Mr. Prescott, I..."
She was deeply anxious, yet as she took in the scene inside, the girl felt struck by a bolt of thunder.
—— The private room was filled with wealthy young gentlemen.
Although she didn’t recognize many of their faces, nearly everyone was clutching and embracing; the catwomen previously seen in the lobby lounged like little pets, seductively lying beneath the legs of those rich young masters.
Among them was one of the most beautiful, half-kneeling before Zion Prescott, eyes seductive like silk, lips red as fire, holding a fresh crystal grape between them, her arm extending forward, revealing a deep cleavage.
Such is the allure of a country’s temptress.
"Young Master Prescott, eat the grape, won’t you look at Cherie? Otherwise, they’re going to drag her away to play some other daring game, Young Master Prescott, won’t you save me, please..."
The catwoman gazed at Zion Prescott with a mournful yet glamorous expression, the grape in her mouth unable to be given away, seemingly pleading for her master’s favor.
However, Zion Prescott sat dignified in the central seat, not even glancing at the woman who called herself Cherie. His usually gentle smile was now masked by a heavy, dark cloud.
Apart from Cherie who desperately wanted to climb on him, the other catwomen dared not approach Zion Prescott by even half a step.
Initially, everyone was complaining about why Zion Prescott suddenly changed his attitude to attend this recreational party, wondering if he was finally going to indulge with them, but the result was dismissing every woman there, chilling the atmosphere several notches; they were restrained, afraid to let loose and have fun.
...
Now the door was opened, abruptly breaking the decadent yet oppressive atmosphere in the private room, with everyone shocked and looking towards the door.
"That someone dares to be late to Young Master Prescott’s party?"
Originally puzzled, but upon seeing Claire Sinclair’s face, each wealthy young gentleman straightened up in his seat, nearly popping out their eyes.
"Young Master Prescott, is this woman looking for you? Wow, such a rare beauty!"
All the wealthy sons present were seasoned veterans of pleasure venues; Claire Sinclair’s beautiful face and overly conservative dress made her almost an anomaly here, attracting the covetous gaze of countless wolves.
"Such a beauty?"
Zion Prescott seemed finally to come to his senses, looking indifferently at the stupefied Claire Sinclair standing at the door, and then lazily pointing to the catwoman Cherie who had been kneeling for almost half an hour not far away.
"Compared to her, how?"
...
Comparing that little girl at the door with a nightclub princess!
The attitude was already clear!
Many of the wealthy second generation were discerning, contemplating that the woman Zion Prescott brought here probably had no background and wasn’t his sweetheart. Considering that Zion Prescott was generally indifferent to women, could it be he deliberately brought someone to humiliate her?
"Haha, did that beauty offend Young Master Prescott somehow? Oh dear, even if Young Master Prescott doesn’t understand flowers’ beauty, why don’t we each punish her with three cups? To vent your anger?"
The Third Young Master Lowell, whose family had suddenly gotten rich from property demolition, ogled Claire Sinclair several times, his shamelessly lustful gaze seeming to want to rip off the dress encasing the girl’s perfect body.
With each person punishing three cups of wine, there were quite ten wealthy sons present; even if the wine had the lowest alcohol content, how could Claire Sinclair guarantee staying clear-headed?
Moreover, this place was Blue Abyss Rose, not home, where it’s common for women to lose self-control and be at others’ mercy after drinking. If other things were added to the wine, these wolves certainly wouldn’t spare her.
...
Claire Sinclair had never expected to see so many people here; those men’s merchant-like gazes made nausea rise from her stomach.
She wanted to vomit, but having barely eaten in the past few days, she only managed a few bites of bland stomach-soothing seafood porridge in Splendid Pavilion, unable to throw up.
"Why aren’t you coming over?"
Zion Prescott lazily beckoned Claire Sinclair.
This ambiguous attitude made Claire Sinclair somewhat unable to fathom what this man was thinking, some people had eyes as clear as to see through, like Jude Grant, whereas others, even when smiling, seemed to exude a chilling breeze, like him in front.
...
Claire Sinclair took a deep breath, only managing to calm down with a death-defying attitude, obediently sitting next to Zion Prescott.
The area around Zion Prescott on the sofa was sparse, no one dared to sit there with him; the accompanying catwomen were like that, and so too were the playful wealthy sons.
The kneeling catwoman Cherie, upon seeing Claire Sinclair sit down so directly, without Zion Prescott telling her to leave, felt an inexplicable envy rising from her heart.
"Young Master Prescott, aren’t you too biased towards this sister? Cherie’s legs hurt from kneeling, can I sit on Young Master Prescott’s right side to serve you along with sister?"
Zion Prescott’s lips curved with a faint smile, lifting his glasses in a gentlemanly manner.
"Did I ask you to kneel?"
The crowd gasped, soon realizing.
—— Indeed, it was Cherie who chose to kneel there all along.
Being in that position allowed Zion Prescott to easily notice her voluminous cleavage when looking over; those present weren’t fools, who wouldn’t understand this logic.
"So Young Master Prescott meant that Cherie could sit together with this newly arrived sister?"
"Sister, you’re Young Master Prescott’s friend, right? It’s the first time I’ve seen him bring someone here."
Cherie’s face showed a captivating smile, quickly standing up, eager to latch onto Claire Sinclair’s hand and build rapport with her.
However, before the hand touched Claire Sinclair’s shoulder, a cold as ice male voice suddenly halted her.
"Since you like to kneel, why stand up?"
Zion Prescott’s voice was sharp like frost, and those present were surprised by Zion Prescott’s sudden anger; the previously perceptive Third Young Master Lowell immediately pressed the bell, quickly shouting into the intercom.
"Madam Lowell, haste and drag that embarrassing Cherie out of here, don’t spoil Zion Prescott’s mood."
...
After this turn of events, the people in the private room couldn’t gauge Zion Prescott’s real attitude towards Claire Sinclair.
No one dared to breathe loudly.
When the atmosphere dropped to freezing point, Zion Prescott slowly smiled, suave and handsome like a gentle spring breeze, as though the person angry before wasn’t him.
"Why aren’t you continuing with the adventures?"
Is it not because of your existence as the table-turning deity?!
The Third Young Master Lowell silently queried in his mind, but outwardly he was extremely careful to maintain a smiling face.
"Young Master Prescott, your sister here, will she play together?"
Facing such a rare beauty, would it not be regrettable if tonight she couldn’t be captured?
As long as Zion Prescott agreed, who among those wolves in human skin wouldn’t want a piece.
...
Upon hearing this, Zion Prescott’s lips curved even deeper.
"Sure, you all play together, I’ll watch."
He glanced over at Claire Sinclair, who was trying her best to minimize her presence, his lips perfectly curved, seemingly very suitable for a kiss, yet spoke the cruellest words.
"You were three seconds late, go draw a card."
Zion Prescott never participated in these vulgar games, but he hated seeing Claire Sinclair seated there quietly.
...
He wanted her to be embarrassed.
Claire Sinclair understood that meaning, took a deep breath, and boldly revealed a smile to those present.
"I hope you all will go easy on me."
She said, then resolutely drew a card.
The Third Young Master Lowell peeked first, exclaiming.
"Wow, choose a member of the opposite sex to sit on his lap and embrace his waist, share a cookie with lips! Who’s gonna be so blessed!"