Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love

Chapter 17

Maxwell shot her a glance, "You wanna give up your spot as lead dancer or what?"

The dance troupe Victoria had joined was top three in the world, and snagging the lead dancer role was something everyone was dying for.

Maxwell's words were enough to shut her up and she figured out his bottom line. Maxwell found the silence boring and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently, "Get out."

"Maxwell."

The man turned his head, his eyes in the night cold as ice, chilling to the bone, "Victoria, you know I'm not the patient type. Don't make me repeat myself."

Twenty minutes later, when Maxwell got to the Night Club, he just happened to catch a glimpse of a few men walking into the private room where Rosemary was.

Through the half-open door, he could see the woman's face, flushed and captivating from the booze.

Inside, Yolanda nudged Rosemary, "Earth to Rosemary, what's got you so spaced out? You're not even responding when I call you."

Rosemary was a bit tipsy and shook her head, "I think I just saw Maxwell."

"What?" Yolanda was skeptical, glancing towards the entrance where there was no one in sight, "You're seeing things. Even if Maxwell was at the Night Club, he wouldn't be hanging out on this floor."

She pointed upwards, "That bunch of rich kids and tycoons? They're up there looking down on the rest of us."

Rosemary also felt she must have been mistaken and turned her attention back to the lineup of various men in front of her, "Did you call them here?"

"Yeah, to pour some drinks. We ordered booze anyway, might as well let them make a buck."

The men had been arranged when she booked the spot this morning, originally to celebrate Rosemary's return to single life, but now the divorce hadn't gone through, so they were only able to appreciate instead of making any move.

Rosemary wasn't keen on this sort of scene and wasn't into drinking, but Yolanda said the drinks were ordered and couldn't be returned, so she had to bite the bullet and down a couple of beers.

The result was both of them getting drunk, not blackout but definitely stumbling around. Two men supported them, one on each side, but as they got to the elevator, Rosemary accidentally bumped into someone.

It was a middle-aged man in his forties, short and chubby with a beer belly, who was leering at Rosemary, "Hey, isn't this Assistant Chambers? I'm Fitch from Ascendia Industries. We met at the Templeton Group last time, remember?"

His company had run into some trouble last time, and through connections, he managed to meet Maxwell and saw Rosemary. Since then, he couldn't stop thinking about her.

Rosemary sobered up a bit and pulled her arm away from the man's grip, her voice indifferent, "Hi."

"You out with friends for drinks, Assistant Chambers?" The two men beside her sported Night Club badges.

"Why don't we switch rooms and keep the party going? I've got some things I’d like to discuss with you."

Rosemary's head was spinning, and she declined outright, "Sorry, but if it’s business, I'm just a junior assistant. I can't make decisions for Mr. Templeton."

This Fitch apparently was up to no good. She didn't mention her resignation, knowing that as long as Maxwell was watching her back like a protective deity, no one would dare lay a finger on her.

"It's not business." Fitch said, noticing her expression darken, "But it's definitely a good opportunity for you. I know you're underutilized at the Templeton Group. They call you an assistant, but you’re just a gofer. Come work for me instead. You name your salary. You’ll be my chief assistant, head of the assistant department. How about it?"

As he spoke, he reached out for Rosemary's hand again, "Sure, the Templeton Group is a big company, but you could work there for a few lifetimes and still not afford a place in Greenwood. Stick with me, and I'll take you house hunting tomorrow, we’ll put it straight in your name."

Rosemary stepped back, pretending not to catch his hint, "Sorry, I'm not interested in buying a house in Greenwood. I appreciate the offer though."

Fitch had his eye on plenty of women before, and they all came running at the drop of a hat. He had never been so outrightly and mercilessly rejected to his face, and his expression soured, "Rosemary, don't play hard to get. It's your lucky day that I'm interested in you. Stick with me for three months, and I'll give you more money than you could earn in a lifetime!"

Rosemary's expression turned even colder, "I don't."

But Fitch didn’t give her a chance to refuse and grabbed her hand, attempting to drag her into the private room.

He was so brazen because he knew the third floor was a common area, and anyone with a bit of backing wouldn't be caught dead there.

Rosemary struggled, trying to break free, "Let go of me!"

Seeing the commotion, Yolanda, fighting off dizziness, stood in front of her and swung her purse at Fitch's head.

"Get your hands off her! Go take a look in the mirror, will ya? Who do you think you are, dreaming of us falling for you?!"

Caught off guard by Yolanda's attack, Fitch couldn't defend himself in time and was momentarily dizzy from the blow.

But his natural physical advantage quickly took over, and with a shove, he pushed Yolanda hard against the wall, "You dare to hit me? I'll kick you to death!"

He aimed a kick at Yolanda, not holding back, but thanks to his short and stout physique, he could only reach her thigh.

Rosemary pushed and pulled, trying to drag Yolanda behind her. In the midst of the scuffle, she caught sight of a figure in the corner of her eye. There was Maxwell, standing not far off, watching the scene unfold with an icy detachment, and it was unclear how long he had been there.

The fight drained out of her, and she felt a chill run through her body from head to toe. After three years of marriage, was this how cold-blooded and heartless he was going to be, just standing there while she was harassed?

This whole fiasco kicked off in a flash and wrapped up just as quick, with Fitch getting his butt handed to him by the Night Club security guards.

The Night Club manager strolled over, first off saying sorry to Rosemary and Yolanda, and then had a doc check them out to make sure they were okay before turning his gaze to Fitch, who was all tied up, "Fitch, brawling and harassing the ladies ain't part of the deal here at Night Club."

Fitch was grinning through the pain, but he wasn’t about to talk tough now. He had no clue who the big cheese of Night Club was, but he knew well enough they were out of his league. This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org: ©.

So he tried to turn the tables, pointing his finger at Rosemary, "I didn't hassle her. She wanted to crash with me. I offered her a price and she didn't bite, so she threw the first punch!"