Chapter 13
Rosella denied it quickly and firmly.
“No. I just happened to run into him.”
“You better be.” Lamont’s voice deepened. Then he advised her earnestly, “Rosa, no matter what, we used to dote on you. We’ve talked to the Dunn family a lot of times, but Millard never agreed to the marriage. Over the years, he wished you were dead.”
“Mollie wants me to be with Elliot. If he agrees to it, I’ll marry him,” Rosella said seriously.
The pain in her eyes was a stark contrast to the relieved look on Lamont’s face. He sighed, “I’m glad to hear you say this.”
After days, it finally stopped raining. Dewey packed up his luggage, heading to the mountain resort on Mount Colesor in Tolville for a couple of days with his friends.
Mollie tried to talk him into bringing Rosella with him.
Holding a cigarette between his lips, he looked at Mollie with a half- smile. “Are you sure you want me to take her?”
Standing behind Mollie, Rosella was like a frail dandelion that might be destroyed by a gust of wind in any second.
She said, “Mollie, I don’t have to go.”
Grabbing her arm, Mollie said firmly, “You should. They said Elliot would be there too, right? Why don’t you spend more time with him? It won’t do you any harm.”
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“Elliot will be there, but…”
But he’d take that female star as his companion, and if Rosella came there, it’d make her look like a troublemaker. But that exactly spiced things up.
The mountain resort had been operating for three years, and those who came here were mostly bigwigs in Tolville.
Rosella was allowed to set foot here thanks to Dewey. After three years, she could no longer recognize a lot of architecture here. As she stepped into a luxurious place again, the first thing that came into her mind was her years of experience earning money in hotels and clubs.
Dewey was going to the billiards hall, and he tossed her the room key. “Go up. Stay in the room; I don’t wanna be embarrassed.”
“OK.” She was about to leave with her suitcase.
Then he added, “By the way, Elliot’s room is next to yours.”
It wasn’t a coincidence.
But her only goal was to marry Elliot. She didn’t care who he was with or what he was doing with them.
The second she stepped into her room, she heard voices from next door.
The woman’s moan was delicate, seductive, and captivating enough.
Curling up on the couch, Rosella fell into a sound sleep while listening to the suggestive sounds. Then, someone knocked on the door, which woke her up. She got up to open the door, only to see the female star who had taken a shower and changed her clothes.
She had her hands on her hips; clearing, she was here for trouble.
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“You actually show up here. You just can’t stand one day without Elliot, can you?”
Then she grabbed Rosella’s arm.
Being dragged outside, Rosella explained quickly, “You got me wrong. I’m here with Mr. Rowe.”
The woman said, “Exactly. Mr. Rowe told Elliot you insisted on tagging along when you knew Elliot would be here. You’re such a cheap slut. Quit following us!”
Meanwhile, Dewey was in the north wing of the mountain resort.
Holding a champagne glass, he clinked it against Millard’s, creating a crisp ting. “Sure enough; women know the best how to handle women. Do you remember Nolan’s intern secretary who pursued you?”
Nolan Dunn was Millard’s father.
Of course, Millard remembered. That intern sat in his passenger seat and gave him a lift home when he was drunk. Because of that, Rosella deemed her as a slut and told on her to Nolan secretly, who fired her.
Rosella was treated the same way she had treated others.
“Millard, will she dare to dream of marrying Elliot after this? What do you think?” Dewey asked.
Millard gulped down the champagne in one go, stood up, and looked down at him. “Don’t do this again. It’s boring.”
“You said you wanted her to suffer, didn’t you?”
Millard had said so three days prior to Rosella’s comeback; yet, in a few days, he changed so much.
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Millard wanted to go back to his room, but Dewey pulled him to the billiards hall upstairs. The latter didn’t bring up Rosella again lest it upset Millard.
There were mostly men in the billiards hall, and the whole place reeked of smoke. Only two women brought by someone were here, sitting in the corner.
Millard leaned over to take a shot. As he pressed the cue with his fingers, the dim light shone on his indifferent eyes; at this precise moment, he overshadowed everyone else present.
The ball sank into the pocket right away.
One of the women walked over while wriggling her waist. Then she held the cue with her red–nailed hand, slid her hand down, held Millard’s hand, and said fawningly, “Mr. Dunn, I’ve long heard about your excellent skills. You truly live up to your reputation.”
Millard pulled his hand away, unfazed.
Then he picked up a piece of chalk, rubbed it gently over the cue’s tip, and blew. Immediately, the blue powder was all over her face. She stumbled back furiously but didn’t dare to lose her temper.
She forced a smile. “Mr. Dunn, do you want some company? I’m good at this, too.”
Just then, someone ran inside and shouted, “Hey, guys!
“Go take a look! Is the woman downstairs Dewey’s sister?”
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