Chapter4: Let him hear you!

There was no need to turn on the speaker. In the already quiet room, Dylan’s voice carried through the line, sharp and filled with barely restrained hostility.

Eranthe’s chest rose and fell as anger surged through her.

That bastard.

Her promotion had always depended on her own ability and effort, yet she knew very well that Dylan had the means to make things difficult for her within the company. Unlike him, she did not come from a powerful family that could shield her from consequences.

Colin reached out and pinched her chin lightly, forcing her to look at him.

There was a faint curve at the corner of his lips, as though he had already seen through everything she was trying to hide.

“Careful,” he said quietly, his voice low. “You’re biting too hard.”

Only then did Eranthe realize she had been clenching her lip unconsciously.

A flush rose to her face as awareness returned all at once. Her state was completely undone, while he remained composed, his shirt still perfectly in place, his expression controlled.

The contrast made her feel exposed in more ways than one.

Before she could gather herself, he leaned in again, closing the distance between them without hesitation. His presence was overwhelming, deliberate, leaving no room for retreat as her breath was gradually taken from her.

His hand moved with slow certainty, tracing along her side, not hurried, yet carrying a pressure that made her senses sharpen involuntarily.

“Let him hear you,” Colin said quietly, his voice almost a murmur near her ear.

Eranthe stiffened.

She had been suppressing every sound, every reaction, refusing to give Dylan even the smallest hint of vulnerability.

But Colin did not withdraw.

There was a subtle shift in him, something darker, something far less restrained, as if a line he had been holding was being pushed closer to its edge.

She could feel it now.

Not just his touch.

Something deeper.

Something instinctive.

A presence that felt less like a man and more like something watching, waiting, measuring.

Her control slipped for just a second, and a soft sound escaped her before she could stop it.

On the other end of the call, Dylan exploded.

“Eranthe! Get down here right now, do you hear me?”

Eranthe closed her eyes briefly, irritation flashing across her face.

If you have the courage, come up yourself.

But he wouldn’t.

He never would.

Because even he knew there were people he could not afford to provoke.

And Colin was one of them.

She could also feel it now.

Colin was no longer indifferent.

There was a subtle tension in him, a tightening beneath the surface, as though something inside him had been stirred and was being forcibly held back.

Knowing when to yield was sometimes the smarter choice.

Eranthe reached up and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck, her movement slow, deliberate, carrying a hint of softness that hadn’t been there before. She leaned in and brushed her lips lightly against the corner of his mouth.

It was not submission.

It was a choice.

Colin’s gaze darkened instantly.

For a brief second, something almost dangerous flickered behind his eyes. He reached up and removed his glasses, placing them aside with controlled precision.

“You made the right decision,” he said.

There was no arrogance in his tone.

Only certainty.

He lifted the phone again, pressing it to his ear.

“Do you need something?” he asked calmly.

On the other end, Dylan froze.

The moment he recognized Colin’s voice, the aggression vanished instantly. The line went dead without another word.

Coward.

Eranthe’s lips curved faintly, a trace of cold amusement flashing in her eyes.

If he wanted to play this game, then he should be prepared for the consequences.

She leaned closer again, this time without hesitation.

Whatever line she had crossed earlier, she stepped over it completely now.

Later, when everything finally quieted down, exhaustion settled heavily over her.

She did not even have the strength to open her eyes.

Colin remained beside her, one hand resting lightly against her back, his touch steady, almost absent-minded, yet grounding.

For a moment, the room was silent.

Then he spoke.

“How does it feel,” he asked, his tone unreadable, “to use me like this?”

Eranthe did not answer.

Not because she refused.

But because she simply did not have the energy to think.

Her mind was still tangled, her thoughts slow, unable to fully process what had just happened.

Yet one thing was becoming clear.

This was not something she could walk away from as easily as she had assumed.

Colin’s voice came again, calm, measured.

“I’ll give you a week,” he said. “Think about it.”

In the days that followed, Eranthe almost forgot about his words.

Not because they didn’t matter.

But because reality did not allow her the luxury to dwell on them.

Work consumed her completely.

Dylan’s retaliation came, just as she expected, but not in the way she had imagined.

He did not confront her directly.

Instead, he chose something far more effective.

Her work.

The anniversary event and dealer promotion meeting, originally secured at Ashly Mall, had always been her responsibility. It was the key to her promotion, the final step she needed to secure her position.

Everything had been perfectly arranged.

Until suddenly, it wasn’t.

Delays.

Obstructions.

Unexplained complications.

If it weren’t for Dylan, she would never have believed these problems could appear at this stage.

She was one step away.

Just one.

And she refused to lose it now.

Standing outside the VIP room of Neverland, Eranthe took a slow breath before lifting her hand and knocking on the door.

When she stepped inside, the atmosphere hit her immediately.

Laughter.

Alcohol.

Music.

The room was already alive.

This was one of the most exclusive clubs in Assyria City, a place where power and indulgence mixed without restraint.

The table was filled with expensive drinks, and the carefully selected women in the room added to the atmosphere of excess.

Dressed in her professional attire, Eranthe stood out instantly.

“Look who it is,” a voice called out, laced with mockery. “Dylan Miller’s little sweetheart. I almost thought we had a new girl tonight.”

Her smile froze.

Of course.

She should have known.

Mr. Perez’s sudden appearance here had never been a coincidence.

This was a trap.

And Dylan had been waiting for her to walk straight into it.

Another voice laughed.

“Not just that. Look at her. Even dressed like that, she’s still the most eye-catching one here.”

It was true.

Among all the deliberately dressed women, her restraint only made her stand out more.

Then Dylan’s voice came from the corner.

Cold.

Cruel.

Deliberate.

“I’ve already had my turn with her,” he said lazily. “Don’t mistake trash for something valuable.”