CHAPTER 24: CHAPTER 24: LACHLAN WYATT, ARE YOU EVEN A MAN?

The scene on the bed was so shocking that the front desk manager immediately covered his eyes, then took a step back and closed the door for Lachlan Wyatt.

Amitabha, is this a caught-in-the-act scene? It’s best to quickly pretend not to see anything and leave, so as not to bring trouble upon oneself...

So, it was left to Lachlan Wyatt alone in the room, looking at a man and woman on the bed.

Hold on, although the clothes aren’t fully off, this posture is wrong!

Why is Iris Crawford straddling Hector Sutton’s waist? Is Hector Sutton being ridden like a dog?!

Iris Crawford seemed to be unaware, and Lachlan Wyatt couldn’t get much out of her when he asked. His cold gaze was fixed directly on the man beneath Iris Crawford.

But at this moment, Hector Sutton’s face was even worse. He was startled by the sound of the door opening and, upon seeing Lachlan Wyatt enter, Hector Sutton blocked Iris Crawford with both hands, shouting, "It’s not what it looks like, Wyatt, let me explain!"

Lachlan Wyatt stood there, his black wispy hair falling down to cover his eyes, and Hector Sutton could almost see a cloud of black gas emerging around him.

I asked you to send the woman back to the hotel and take care of her, and your care led to the bed?

"It’s not... not what you think..."

"Did I come at a bad time?" Lachlan Wyatt laughed, and his laugh made Hector Sutton’s hair stand on end, hearing him continue ominously, "Am I interrupting you?"

"You came at just the right time!" Hector Sutton shouted, "Save me! My innocence is at stake!"

He swore, initially, Iris Crawford did wear him down, thinking that her pretty face and proud figure were worth it, if he put up with it she could become his woman... After all, Hector Sutton had plenty of lovers, adding one more Iris Crawford wouldn’t matter, would it?

As he reached out to touch Iris Crawford’s clothing, Iris Crawford grabbed him.

She grabbed him, trembling, "Jordan Jacobs... I’m going to kill you..."

She was drugged, her voice alluringly sweet, but she still slurred, threatening to kill him, and with tears streaming, "I love you so much, I love you so much... yet you want to take my life!"

Hector Sutton was frightened by this sudden change, and then Iris Crawford twisted his posture by holding his neck, pressing him down onto the bed.

Never in his life had Hector Sutton been dominated by a woman; to him, all women were flattering sycophants, because he was the strong, proactive one.

Who would have thought he’d be pinned down by Iris Crawford like this, her whole body hot and pressing against him, holding his neck and breathing heavily, "Why... why... do you do this to me..."

Hector Sutton felt something odd in his heart. Could this woman be truly infatuated, deeply in love with Jordan Jacobs for years?

Who knows why, a thought rose in his mind, Jordan Jacobs? Why is it him?

Gritting his teeth, the man simply raised his hands in surrender, "I didn’t do anything, I really didn’t do anything, you’ve got the wrong person!"

Wrong person?

Iris Crawford’s movement froze, drunk and drugged, she couldn’t quite think straight. She muttered, "Wrong?"

Hector Sutton watched Iris Crawford across her clothes sitting on his abs, feeling a surge of energy rushing up to his head.

His throat was being lightly gripped by Iris Crawford, not with much force.

If he wanted, he could flip her off in the next second.

Yet Hector Sutton didn’t do it, he didn’t even know why. His hands and feet just turned soft, being ridden by Iris Crawford, feeling like he was the one drugged.

At this moment, Iris Crawford suddenly lifted her head up, as if suddenly sobered up, or like she was having a split personality. With one hand, she clutched Hector Sutton’s throat, and with the other, she lifted his chin, "Who... who put you on my bed?"

Hector Sutton’s handsome face turned red with anger, "You’re teasing me?"

"Me? Teasing you is your... blessing!" Iris Crawford patted Hector Sutton’s face like coaxing a male pet.

This woman is truly extraordinary, constantly breaking gender stereotypes.

Whatever men can do, she as a woman does it all, and even more skillfully.

"Don’t rush, sister will... favor you in a moment, wait, are you... a virgin?"

Hector Sutton’s throat tightened, impulsively saying, "Virgin? Who are you looking down on? Damn, I’ve got women lined up—"

With a slap sound, Iris Crawford slapped Hector Sutton’s face.

The force was light, almost like a caress, but her movement was indeed a slapping motion, perhaps drunk and lacking strength.

Hector Sutton was dumbfounded, finally coming to his senses to roar angrily, "What do you mean?!"

"Not adhering to male morality!" Iris Crawford drunkenly babbled, "Young... so young, yet not a virgin? You, you’re so uneducated!"

Hector Sutton had lived most of his life without being stepped on by a woman like this, "It’s the 21st century now, please! Where did you get these feudal ideas?"

While undressing Hector Sutton, Iris Crawford trembled and said, "I’m going to... teach you a lesson, this unclean man..."

Hector Sutton attempted to speak again, Iris Crawford slapped him again with the same mosquito-bite force, but she was evidently more enthused, "Shut up!"

Hector Sutton was shocked, lost for words. How could it be, that he, a handsome rich heir, would one day be ridden by a woman and slapped twice?

If word got out, how could he save face?!

Hector Sutton reached out to grab Iris Crawford attempting to control her, yet at that moment, Lachlan Wyatt burst in.

What he saw was Iris Crawford pressing on Hector Sutton, undressing him.

Hector Sutton’s hair was a mess, reaching out to Lachlan Wyatt, "Save me, Wyatt, she’s drunk, causing a scene and trying to force herself on me!"

Heavens, why did he encounter such a woman who was completely against public morals order?

Lachlan Wyatt swore it was the first time he’d seen Hector Sutton being pinned by a woman, asking for help.

With a cold smile, Lachlan Wyatt stepped forward, grasped Iris Crawford’s collar from behind, picked her up like a baby chick, and lifted her directly off Hector Sutton. Iris Crawford leaned back her neck, saw Lachlan Wyatt’s cold, stark face.

Iris Crawford froze.

His icy gaze seemed to calm her from her heated frenzy instantly.

With a tight embrace, Lachlan Wyatt held Iris Crawford, even bouncing a bit to adjust the posture, her hands falling to her sides, her whole body weak, slumped against Lachlan Wyatt’s chest, moaning, "Husband, why did you come to save me just now..."

Lachlan Wyatt’s body stiffened, so did Hector Sutton’s on the bed.

What did she just call Wyatt?

Hu... husband?!

Hector Sutton’s eyes pierced over like a blade, questioning whether Lachlan Wyatt had something going on with this woman?

Yet Lachlan Wyatt kept the details mysterious, his delicate brows and eyes seemingly unmoved.

Iris Crawford was drunk, not knowing what she was doing, scenes in her mind switching back and forth, she kept panting, saying, "Husband, I know you’re actually wanting me dead... aren’t you?"

She was fat, she was clumsy, she embarrassed him, she’d better just die, wasn’t that it!

Lachlan Wyatt knew she was calling someone else husband, Jordan Jacobs, the man who destroyed her.

Hector Sutton couldn’t understand Iris Crawford’s words, his face pale with fright, "Were you... married back then?"

Lachlan Wyatt was irritated by the word marriage, offering little clarification, turned around with Iris Crawford, "I’ll take her to wash up, you can leave now."

Hector Sutton climbed off the bed, "You just use her and then toss her aside!"

******

Lachlan Wyatt ran a bath for Iris Crawford in the bedroom and when he came out, Hector Sutton was still in the room and hadn’t left. Lachlan’s handsome face fell instantly, "Why are you still here?"

Hector Sutton didn’t have the guts to say he was worried about Iris Crawford. Saying it made it seem like he cared too much about this woman, but he had no choice, so he bit the bullet and said, "I brought her here. What’s wrong with staying a bit longer to keep her company?"

Lachlan Wyatt said expressionlessly, "You can get lost now."

Hector Sutton found Lachlan impossibly shameless—giving orders when needed and kicking him out when not—so he cursed, "Wyatt, you’re such a bastard."

"What would you stay for?" Lachlan retorted with a cold smile, "To watch us in bed? Spectators have to pay, Hector Sutton."

Is that even human speech!

Hector Sutton was so furious his nostrils puffed smoke, "Who’d want to watch! I’m leaving now; you’re an eyesore to me!"

After saying this, Hector Sutton stood up, pulled open the door, and found the front desk manager eavesdropping outside with their ear pressed to the door. When the door opened, the manager almost stumbled into Hector’s arms.

Hector Sutton: "..."

Front Desk Manager: "..."

What should you do if you’re caught at the scene for being a nosy little thing? Urgent, waiting online.

Once Hector Sutton left, the hotel room immediately quieted down. Lachlan opened the bathroom door and walked in. He saw Iris Crawford soaking in the bathtub, unclothed, the water barely covering her chest, her ivory shoulders shimmering seductively.

Lachlan stood at the door staring without moving. Iris leaned against the tub wall, unmoving as well, her face turning redder under the steam, seeming to endure some unbearable agony.

After a while, Iris spoke first, "It’s hot..."

She was supposed to take a cold bath, but Lachlan was probably worried she’d catch a cold, so he filled it with warm water, which was ultimately too hot.

Lachlan stepped forward, dipped his hand in the water, and then flicked some onto Iris’s face, "Hey."

Iris shook her head, splattering the water off her face, and forced her eyes open to look at Lachlan, "Stay away from me..."

"Why didn’t you tell Hector to stay away when you were cuddling him and kissing him?"

Lachlan squinted suddenly, perhaps out of curiosity, his smile sardonic with mockery, "You like him?"

Iris said, "Anyone’s fine, but not you..."

Oh, so it was just against him.

Lachlan stood up.

Laughed.

Then reached out and crushed a button off his collar.

Iris heard the button dropping into the bathtub, creating small splashes on the water.

She didn’t have time to stop him before Lachlan had already undressed and stepped in.

When Iris awoke again, she opened her eyes and found herself lying on a large bed.

She touched herself.

Well, crap, not wearing clothes.

Iris turned her head and saw Lachlan’s face in deep sleep—definitely handsome, but the owner of this face was really a scoundrel!

Iris had worked it out in her mind. She was an adult after all, had been divorced, naturally more mature than a young girl, and waking up beside Lachlan, she didn’t want to fool herself; wasn’t it... This was all too obvious.

She knew it! That Lachlan, always fooling around, sticking by him all day was bound to lead to trouble!

Angry, Iris sat up, finding Lachlan waking up too, then he reached a big hand over to pull her back into bed.

Lachlan’s just-awakened tone was worse than hers, with a deep tone akin to a bass, "Awake?"

How did he sound like he had more resentment?

Iris tugged at the quilt, "What?"

Lachlan’s smile was thin and insincere, "Forgot everything?"

Iris said, "No."

No soreness in her body, but lying like this, she couldn’t come up with any other excuse.

Lachlan laughed softly.

Iris’s face turned pale instantly, "What do you mean?"

"You called me husband yesterday." Lachlan opened his beautiful eyes, his cold gaze reflected from within, "You mistook me for Jordan Jacobs."

So that’s the issue, the man’s dignity not wanting to be a stand-in?

Iris waved her hand and said, "Oh please, you didn’t lose out, so stop fussing over minor details."

How could she speak so frankly?

Just as Lachlan was about to speak, there was a knock at the door.

Before Iris opened it, the lock emitted a beep sound, as if someone had hacked it, and then the door swung open.

"..." Iris looked at the scantily clad beauty entering from the door, saying, "Peach, I told you not to be a thief."

The woman called Peach wore heavy smokey makeup, indifferent to others’ opinions, "Lachlan said you were drugged and called me to help for an examination. I rushed right over."

Lachlan lay in bed, "You’re lying; I called Chestnut last night to get you, and you only show up next morning? That’s rushing right over?"

Peach said, "I drank too much, took a nap and came."

Lachlan chuckled sarcastically, "You might as well wait until Iris is dead before coming."

"Dead is good!" Peach’s eyes glowed, "I most want to dissect Iris’s corpse!"

Iris said, "You’re a doctor with zero moral integrity!"

Peach was a famously eccentric forensic doctor in the organization, loved dissections, being scantily clad and exhibiting an over-the-top personality. Despite everything, she had a pretty face, her personality and looks were completely mismatched.

Her hobby was performing surgery while wearing heavy makeup and listening to heavy metal rock.

She wandered outside societal morals, loved interacting with the dead, and if Iris and her crew weren’t holding her back, it felt like Peach would start human experimentation at any moment.

Iris followed Peach into the living room, explained her situation, and Peach conveniently had her spread her legs for an examination.

Iris felt somewhat embarrassed, to which Peach said, "There’s nothing wrong at all."

Iris was stunned, "Huh?"

Peach stood up, cast a slight disdainful glance at Lachlan in the room, a look that seemed to mean "→_→" to Iris.

The eccentric doctor said, "Are you even a man? There’s nothing wrong with Birdie? How did you resolve the drug problem?"

Lachlan, finally unable to bear it, snapped angrily for the first time, "None of your business!"