The two men, just caught, felt their knees buckle.
They'd barely been out of jail for a week.
But Mr. Zeke had promised them—swore up and down nothing could go wrong. Sleep with this woman, he said, and you'll be set for life.
"I want to see your boss! Get me Mr. Zeke! I want to see him, do you hear me?"
The ringleader, a heavyset man, struggled against the bouncers' grip, shouting at the top of his lungs.
Their commotion had already drawn a crowd outside the private lounge, curious onlookers peering in.
The assistant manager, hearing his boss's name thrown around, paled, then flushed with panic. "Shut him up! Cover his mouth!"
Soon, the police and paramedics arrived on the scene.
Celestine helped Mirabelle onto the ambulance. "Your agent's on the way to the hospital now. Don't be scared, you'll be okay."
Tears streaked Mirabelle's cheeks. "Thank you. Really, thank you."
Celestine shook her head gently, her voice steady. "If you need a witness, you have my number. Call me anytime."
Once Mirabelle was safely in the ambulance, Celestine checked her watch. The meeting with the client was coming up soon.
She always made a habit of arriving at least half an hour early, and thankfully, she still had time.
Quickening her pace toward the lounge, she was nearly there when a tall figure stepped into her path.
"Well, well, Housekeeper Celestine. What brings you here tonight?"
The man wore trendy streetwear, his chestnut hair tousled in loose waves, a cocky grin plastered across his face.
His tone was playful, but the poison behind his words was unmistakable.
Celestine ignored Zeke and moved to walk past him, but he blocked her with a long leg, refusing to let her by.
"What's wrong?" Zeke leaned in, deliberately scrutinizing her. "Did I get the wrong person? Housekeeper Celestine, you seem awfully grumpy tonight."
His jabs didn't faze her.
Back when she'd first married Chester, he'd started staying out late—sometimes not coming home at all. She'd gone looking for him at bars, only to be blocked at every turn.
"Mrs. Fordham, please, don't make this harder than it has to be," the staff would say.
Zeke, passing by, never missed an opportunity to sneer. "You're more controlling than Chester's own mother. You're just a glorified live-in maid, really. Housekeeper Celestine fits you so much better than Mrs. Fordham."
Her eyes were glacial. "Sorry, sir, I don't know you."
She held up her phone, her smile icy. "Take one more step, and I'll call the police and report you for harassment. They just left—pretty sure they wouldn't mind coming back for you."
A man who couldn't even protect his own girlfriend—what right did he have barking at her?
Pathetic.
But for the sake of her "amnesiac" persona, she bit back the rest.
"You—!" Zeke choked on his anger, a dangerous glint flickering in his eyes.
Was this woman really faking memory loss?
Celestine arched a brow, letting her disgust show plainly as she brushed past him and entered her lounge.
Zeke stared after her retreating figure, frozen in disbelief.
Was she mocking him just now? How dare she?
He was still struggling to process it when one of his men came running, panic etched on his face. "Mr. Zeke—it's bad! Bob and Jake just got taken away by the police, and Miss Remington's headed to the hospital for a medical exam!"
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Thorns Grow After Betrayal (Celeste and Chester)