CHAPTER 119: CHAPTER 119: STRONG LIQUOR

Jean Ellison entered the password to open the apartment door. Inside, it was very quiet, with only a small light on in the entryway.

Vic was probably resting in the guest room.

She kicked off her shoes and walked barefoot on the cold floor, without turning on the main light, heading straight to the dining room’s wine cabinet.

Justin Holden had stored quite a bit of wine here, though she didn’t recognize much of it. She randomly picked the bottle with the darkest color and pulled out a glass.

She yanked out the cork and filled the glass to the brim.

The dark red liquid swirled against the sides of the glass.

Without hesitation, she tilted her head back and downed it in one go.

The liquid was spicy and burned her throat, scorching all the way down to her stomach, making her cough violently while she pinched her mouth shut, tears welling up.

How awful it was. Did Justin usually drink this stuff?

After the coughing fit subsided, a wave of dizziness slowly crept over, making her light-headed.

Weirdly, her mind was clearer now than it had been in the cold wind downstairs, brutally clear.

She should be with him at the hotel now.

It’s done.

That thought slithered like a snake, coiling around her mind.

She poured another glass and gazed into the dark red wine, as if seeing something else.

She closed her eyes, then tilted her head back and drank again.

Another burning, choking cough ensued, her stomach roiling inside.

She steadied herself against the wine cabinet, her body heating up, while her mind cruelly replayed scenes she didn’t want to imagine.

Her fingertips were cold.

Meanwhile, at the hotel, Justin Holden heard extremely soft footsteps approaching from the direction of the door, getting closer and closer.

Not the deliberate footsteps of hotel staff, nor the light steps Jean usually had with a touch of detachment.

These footsteps were slower, softer, with a deliberate, cat-like allure, almost silent on the carpet yet clearly striking at his auditory nerves.

Justin’s body tensed almost imperceptibly for a moment.

He tried to focus, but an inexplicable sense of drowsiness swept over him again.

The footsteps stopped in front of him.

He could feel a gaze falling on him, carrying an unabashed, heated desire.

He didn’t move or speak. An inexplicable intuition kept him silent; only the hand resting on his knee, with fingers slightly tightening.

His vision was dark; he couldn’t see anything.

It seemed the lights in the room had also been turned off.

A soft, cool silk blindfold gently covered his eyes and was tied firmly behind his head, completely shutting out all light.

Justin’s breath hitched.

This completely unexpected action made the agitation from alcohol and drugs in his body cool a bit, and a sense of alertness quietly rose up.

This wasn’t something Jean would do.

Though she had been acting strangely lately, deep down, she wasn’t this bold.

But he didn’t immediately remove the blindfold.

He wanted to see what she intended to do.

Or perhaps, subconsciously, he was expecting something.

Deprived of sight, his other senses became extraordinarily acute.

He heard the faint rustle of fabric, as if a light, silky garment was being removed.

Then, a strong, sensual perfume scent wafted near, aggressively invading his nostrils.

When did Jean ever use such a pungent perfume? Did she buy it especially for tonight?

Then he felt the sofa sink slightly.

A warm, scarcely clad body straddled his lap with both tentative and resolute determination.

Justin’s body stiffened like iron, every muscle tensing up.

This wasn’t Jean.

Jean’s body line was slimmer, more slender, with a cooler aura.

But this body on his lap was more voluptuous, heavier, the proportions didn’t match.

"Who are you?"

Justin’s voice was hoarse and low; he abruptly raised his hand, about to tear off the blindfold.

However, the woman straddling him was quicker.

She grabbed his raised wrist, not with force.

Her fingertips were cool, with a faint tremble, yet firmly guiding his large hand to stroke the smooth, bare skin of her waist.

The touch was like the finest silk yet vibrantly warm and resilient.

Her body quivered slightly at his touch, emitting a soft sigh, as though of satisfaction and encouragement.

She leaned down, her warm breath carrying that alien fragrance, spraying over his ear and neck, her voice deliberately low and husky, mimicking a certain tone.

"Don’t ask... just feel me..."

She guided his hand, slowly caressing the delicate skin of her waist, with a clumsy yet urgent tease.

Justin’s fingers touched the completely unfamiliar tactile feel of the skin and body curve.

The obnoxious intense scent filled his nostrils.

In his ear was that artificial, poorly imitated voice.

He suddenly swung away the hand guiding him with great force, nearly throwing her off his lap.

"Get off!"

His low growl emanated a chilling, terrifying fury.

With his free hand, he violently tore off the silk blindfold.

The sudden influx of light caused him to squint momentarily, but soon, everything came into focus.

Sitting straddled on his lap, nearly half-naked, was a familiar face filled with astonishment, panic, and embarrassment.

Leah Sutton.

She wore an extremely revealing black lace lingerie set, accentuating her figure.

Her face bore elaborate makeup, but now, due to the sudden failure of her plan, her complexion had drained of color, lips slightly parted, eyes filled with fear.

As Justin’s eyes adjusted, his gaze fell on Leah’s face.

The shock, disgust, and fury in his eyes were almost tangible, making Leah shiver, instinctively wanting to escape him.

"Justin, let me explain..."

Leah’s voice was trembling beyond recognition, and the deliberately crafted seductive charm was swept away, leaving only disarray and fear.

Justin abruptly stood up, and Leah cried out, carelessly toppled onto the carpet, seated awkwardly on the floor.

He looked down at her, his eyes cold and filled with loathing as if looking at something filthy.

He raised his hand, rubbing hard at the fingers that had touched her waist, as if to wipe away something nauseating.

"Explain?"

Justin’s voice was ominously deep, each word seeming dredged from an ice pit.

"Leah, you’ve got some nerve."