CHAPTER 76: CHAPTER 76: LET ME COUNT YOUR ABS

Beep.

Beep beep.

The phone rang for a long time, but Una Hutton never answered.

Adrian Lockwood opened Una Hutton’s social media feed.

In the evening, there was a collage post of Dongpo pork, squirrel fish, sweet and sour ribs, steamed pork, and an aesthetically pleasing arrangement of celery lilies and cold spinach salad.

At first glance, the presentation was perfect, full of color, aroma, and taste.

He didn’t even need to guess; he knew this was Serena Sinclair’s handiwork.

The last photo was a sunset outside the full-length window.

Judging by the angle, it was the view from Serena Sinclair’s dining table.

He clicked on the collage’s central picture of the family feast, even though no chopsticks were laid out, judging from the number of dishes and the compulsive stacking of cans.

Adrian Lockwood concluded that Serena Sinclair had hosted five or six people for this meal.

Beside Una Hutton, who else?

Colleagues?

Or... new friends?

She’s only been gone from The Lockwood Villa for a little over a month and already knows so many friends who could be invited for dinner?

All in their twenties, eating, drinking, chatting.

Darkness falls and they go to a bar together.

It seems to flow naturally.

But Adrian Lockwood’s heart was pounding.

It was as if things would change once tonight was over.

Adrian Lockwood grabbed his car keys and left.

"Adrian..."

The bathroom door opened, and Chloe Lynch’s smile froze.

Just the thought of not having to suffer at work starting next week and being able to enjoy her life as a wealthy housewife at home made her feel great.

Determined to reward Adrian Lockwood tonight, she added rose essential oil to the bath and took a long soak.

She even put on a full set of lace lingerie.

But now, all she saw was Adrian Lockwood’s back as he walked away without a backward glance.

"Adrian, where are you going?"

Chloe Lynch chased after him.

The man’s voice was colder than the night wind, "Don’t wait for me; go to sleep first."

As he spoke, the Mercedes-Benz already accelerated away.

Standing stunned on the steps, there’s a flash of panic in Chloe Lynch’s eyes.

...

It’s already 11 o’clock, and the bar’s atmosphere is growing more intense.

Every beat seemed to shake the eardrums, pounding on the heart.

With nerves soaked in alcohol, she felt like a ballet dancer on a tightrope, timid yet eagerly awaiting the next beat.

Serena Sinclair’s eyes focused on Una Hutton in the dance floor.

It was their first time here, but Una Hutton was far more uninhibited than Serena Sinclair.

After a few drinks, when handsome guys came over to invite her to dance, she bravely went with them.

Initially awkward and clumsy, her limbs felt out of place.

But after just a few songs, she seemed like a regular party-goer, able to dance with the handsome men and beautiful women around her.

When someone grabbed her wrist, Serena Sinclair shook it off.

But she couldn’t shake it free.

Turning back, she met Wyatt Hawthorne’s smiling eyes.

Serena Sinclair’s eyes lit up, "Wyatt..."

Her eyes sparkled.

Her voice was lazy and alluring after a few drinks.

Wyatt Hawthorne’s heart suddenly paused.

Despite the surrounding chaos that seemed to arouse every cell in his body to dance wildly together.

Yet Wyatt Hawthorne’s heart was calm and silent.

"Want to go?"

"Go? No... I’m still waiting for the show..."

Serena Sinclair shook her head, revealing an infatuated smile that Wyatt Hawthorne had never seen before, "There’s going to be a runway of handsome guys soon, you can count abs..."

Count abs?

Wyatt Hawthorne’s gaze deepened, "How do you count them?"

Serena Sinclair blinked, "Of course, you use your eyes; otherwise, how else could you count?"

Wyatt Hawthorne laughed.

In the peach blossom-like eyes blossomed a look of affection.

Under the dazzling colorful lights, he was devastatingly handsome.

Beside them, a woman in a deep V-neck dress opened her WeChat QR code, ready to approach him with, "Handsome, add me on WeChat."

But Wyatt Hawthorne grabbed Serena Sinclair’s wrist with one hand while holding her waist with the other, drawing her into his arms.

As another beam of light swept over.

Seeing Serena Sinclair’s face clearly, the woman pursed her lips, turned away, and left with a look of regret.

"Let’s go..."

"Go...where?"

"To count abs with you!"

"What about Una..."

"Someone’s looking after her!"

Holding Serena Sinclair close as they walked, Wyatt Hawthorne raised his eyes just as Adrian Lockwood pushed the door open and walked in.

Across a crowd of people, Adrian Lockwood’s brows furrowed while he scanned the room.

He appeared to be searching for someone.

After glancing at Serena Sinclair, who leaned into him, struggling even to walk, Wyatt Hawthorne decisively turned and led her off to a private room at the other end.

There were too many people.

The lighting was dim.

As Adrian Lockwood moved forward, he drew numerous curses.

Yet he couldn’t find Serena Sinclair.

When one song ended, the disco ball returned to a warm white glow.

Adrian Lockwood immediately saw Una Hutton in the dance floor.

He reached out to grab Una Hutton, but before his arm touched her, it was restrained by two burly figures nearby.

"Do you know him?"

One of the burly men asked Una Hutton.

Una Hutton turned back to glance at Adrian Lockwood, then gave a bright smile, "Never seen him."

With that remark, the two burly men stood shoulder to shoulder, forming a protective barrier in front of her.

Adrian Lockwood’s anger was about to explode, "Una Hutton, where’s Serena Sinclair?"

The pounding music drowned out Adrian Lockwood’s shout.

Whistling and cheers accompanied as the men and women in the booth stood up together and moved into the dance floor.

The disco ball spun, lights whirled.

Excitement and joy filled the faces of everyone.

Adrian Lockwood shot a fierce glare at the two bodyguards, continuing his search amidst the crowd’s complaints.

Not found in the dance floor.

Nor in the booths.

Suddenly, Adrian Lockwood seemed to think of something, he turned sharply to look at the corridor’s partially open private room doors.

If Serena Sinclair got drunk.

If someone took advantage of her.

Then...

Not daring to entertain further thoughts, Adrian Lockwood turned and dashed towards the private rooms.

"Serena Sinclair..."

"...Serena Sinclair?"

Inside the opened doors, there were couples feeding each other drinks and playing truth or dare.

Others were in the dimly lit corners, flirting and clinging.

Adrian Lockwood searched his way to the end behind a closed private room door.

Knock, knock!

"Serena Sinclair?"

"...Serena Sinclair?"

The sound of knocking merged with Adrian Lockwood’s anxious calling.

Behind the door, Serena Sinclair held her breath.

Feeling dazed, as if standing on a trampoline at a playground.

Unsteady on her feet.

Instinctively she grabbed onto Wyatt Hawthorne’s shirt at his chest.

In the darkness, nothing was visible.

Her sense of hearing was infinitely amplified.

The pounding heartbeats—was it hers, or his?

Serena Sinclair was too nervous to even breathe.

"Sir, sorry, this is our boss’s office; you cannot stay here without permission."

A server approached to remind him.

Adrian Lockwood glanced at the pitch-dark office, hesitated, and turned to go downstairs.

Inside, Serena Sinclair let out a gasp.

Her tensed body relaxed as she leaned softly against the wall.

The coolness coursed up her back, clearing her foggy mind for a moment.

She was divorced.

Now single.

Besides, coming to a bar for drinks and dancing wasn’t anything disgraceful.

Why was she hiding?

"Wyatt..."

She spoke softly, raising her head to look up at Wyatt Hawthorne in the darkness.

The pleasant scent of fir suddenly enveloped her.

Wyatt Hawthorne leaned down and kissed her.