Chapter 175
Lyman was more than satisfied with that answer.
It seemed that person was no threat to him whatsoever.
At first, Lyman had harbored a few worries—after all, there were years of history between them. He’d even been ready to fight tooth and nail for Effie if it came to that.
But now, with this unexpected turn, he found himself rather pleased.
“Well, if they’re not important, there’s no need to waste energy on them. We have far more pressing matters to attend to.” With that, Lyman swept Effie into his
arms.
Effie squeaked in surprise, instinctively looping her arms around his neck.
Lyman strode toward the king-sized bed, a playful smile curving his lips. His fingertips traced a feather-light path along her slender waist, making Effie shiver in anticipation.
The temperature in the room seemed to rise with every step.
Mitchell, meanwhile, grew more agitated after Effie hung up on him.
Damn it—she wouldn’t even take his calls anymore. Was it possible she felt nothing for him now?
The thought made his chest tighten. He immediately waved for another round of drinks, determined to drown himself in whiskey until the world spun out of focus.
Suzan had called him more times than he could count, but every time her name flashed on his phone, Mitchell hit decline without a second thought. He’d finally managed to escape the house—he wasn’t about to let anyone rein him in tonight.
So he kept drinking.
That’s when a woman strutted over-her dress short, heels sky-high, and lips painted a striking scarlet. Without hesitation, she slid onto the barstool beside him.
A slim cigarette dangled between her fingers, the smoke curling lazily as her sultry gaze drifted over Mitchell.
“Drinking alone? That’s no fun,” she drawled, her voice languid as she nudged a glass of amber whiskey toward him. “Cheers.”
Mitchell raised his bleary eyes. In the dim, seductive glow of the bar, the woman’s makeup looked almost hypnotic-her features sharp, alluring. For a split second, Mitchell could’ve sworn she resembled Effie, and a flicker of interest lit up inside him.
He reached for her, pulling her into his arms. “Just a toast?” he murmured.
She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. “Oh, there’s more than that. I’m all yours tonight.”
She’d been watching him for a while now-he was dressed head-to-toe in designer labels, ordering nothing but the most expensive bottles. Clearly, he wasn’t short on cash.
Her lips grazed his earlobe, her perfume and warm breath clouding his senses. For a moment, Mitchell imagined he was holding Effie again, and his arms tightened unconsciously.
“What’s your name?” he asked, his voice rough, fingers tracing the bare skin of her shoulder.
“Call me Lily,” she purred, pressing the glass to his lips, her nails teasing down his throat. “So… how do you want to play tonight?”
Mitchell tossed back the drink in one gulp, feeling the burn all the way down.
Then, without another word, he pulled her close and led her out of the bar.
Back at home, Suzan was frantically calling him, but each call went unanswered.
In frustration, she finally hurled her phone onto the bed.
Damn it!
Where the hell was Mitchell?
Ever since she’d gotten pregnant, Suzan had toned things down, afraid Mitchell might do something reckless that could harm the baby. But maybe because of that, she felt the distance between them growing.
Lately, it seemed like Mitchell was losing patience with her altogether.
Still, for the sake of their child, Suzan endured it.
But now, on New Year’s Eve of all nights, Mitchell had disappeared-and wouldn’t
even answer his phone. God only knew what he was up to.