Become the Wife of A CEO

“How are you feeling?” asked Darren with his eyes lowered upon her.

“I’m much better now.” Clara stepped back away from the smell.

Darren shrewdly noticed her reaction and said with a bitter smile, “So you still hate the smell?”

Before Clara got to answer, he soon added, “But you don’t seem to hate it when Horace smoke, do you?”

Clara didn’t want to talk about Horace with him, and she could see that he was a little drunk, so any argument would be meaningless. She didn’t answer him and walked around him into the lady’s room.

Before she walked in, she looked around, and found that he didn’t follow after her this time, but was leaning against the wall, looking all depressed. He lighted another cigarette, and binged on it.

Clara felt stung in her heart.

There was no way for her to feel nothing as she saw him like that, but she also knew that she had long lost the right to care anything about him.

She felt a little lost as she came to the washbasin. Just when she was about to wash her face with cold water, a stall was kicked open behind her with a bang.

Clara frowned, and when she looked up, she saw Ashlee looking at her with a gloomy face.

She moaned about her bad luck inside.

She just wanted to use the bathroom.

Reluctant to talk to her, so she soon washed her hands and walked straight to a stall.

Ashlee, however, grabbed her by the wrist, yelling, “Stop there, Clara Selman!”

Clara frowned.

What was wrong with the crazy woman again?

“What do you want?” she said to her with icy look.

“I’m the one who should ask you the question!” Apparently, she was also drunk. She snarled at Clara, “What did you say to Darren out there? You are hitting on him again!”

It seemed that Ashlee had heard them talking.

Clara knew that Darren was being unfair to Ashlee with his ambiguous attitude.

But she couldn’t find any way to sympathize her, so she threw away her hand and said with a impassive face, “You are the one who can’t control your man, so I am to blame?”Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

With that Clara felt no mood for using the bathroom anymore and walked straight out of it, without giving Ashlee another look.

Ashlee was swayed and totted a little when Clara got her hand off. She held onto the washbasin and watched Clara’s back, with fury boiling in her eyes!

Clara Selman!

What made you think that you could be so brash and condescending?

I will ruin you!

Ruin you!

She thought. Suddenly she seemed to remember something and soon took a little bottle out of her pocket, with the look in her eyes colder.

She had got some extra of that drug, so she might as well just give Clara some.

Although Clara was tarnished already, she was a married woman after all, so however tolerant Horace and Darren could be, they would never take this one.

At the thought of that, Ashlee’s bright red lips lifted into a icy curve, feeling neither sad or wronged, she raised her chin and strutted out of the bathroom like a pride peacock.

Meanwhile, Clara used another bathroom and returned to the booth.

Many of the people had been very drunk and a mess.

Soon after Clara sat down, a waiter came in with drinks they had ordered, which were all alcohol except for one glass of juice.

Everyone struggled for the alcohol, while Clara took the only juice and sipped it.

After a long time, Clara felt so tired that she rose and shouted to the noisy crowd, “I’ve a report to make tomorrow. I’m leaving.”

But everybody was having the greatest time, so nobody noticed her.

She shrugged and took up her purse before coming up to Darren and said, “Mr. Kirkland, thank you for your treat. I gotta go now.”

Ashlee had been sitting beside him, with a defending look at Clara.

While Darren, who seemed to be so wasted and looked all drained and depressed, put his finger on his temple and nodded.

Clara had left the booth in such a hurry that she didn’t see Ashlee’s sinister and cocky face behind her.

She intended to take a cab and go home, but somehow, she uncontrollably tottered after she’s out of the door. She propped herself up against the wall of the hall to prevent herself from falling.

Damn it.

What’s going on?

She didn’t drink at all? Then why was she feeling so dizzy and weak?

Not only that, she also felt inexplicably hot, sweating heavily while she was wearing a skirt in an air-conditioned hall.

She looked up in panic, and saw her reflection on the door of a booth.

She saw her cheeks blushing unnaturally and a horny look in her eyes.

No!

Clara soon realized that it was exactly what happened two years before.

Could it be…

She couldn’t help but tremble as she thought of the juice she had drunk up.

She felt the urge to leave as soon as possible but her legs were so weak to move.

Panicked and scared, she soon intuitively took out her phone and dialed a number.

After some long beeps, the phone was answered.

“Hello?”

Horace’s husky voice came out from the phone, which Clara saw as a life-saving straw, so she hastened to say, “Help me, Horace.”

She had barely realized how dependent she had become on Horace until then.

The first thing that came to her mind was to call him when she was in danger, forgetting all the formalities but asking him to come to rescue straightforwardly.

While Horace, who had been happy to hear from Clara, only to hear what she had said,

All of a sudden, his face paled, without asking what had happened, he soon said instead, “Where are you?”

“The KTV in Tower Q.”

Clara felt her bone softening when she said that.

Damn it, how potent the drug was!

She felt like as if she was heated enough to explode. Her hands were so powerless that they couldn’t even hold her phone, so it dropped on the floor.

The drop of the phone caused the call to be hung up, and while she struggled to squat down, she felt her head spinning and could hardly stand up.

She was in that painful position for a long time before she pulled herself together, reaching for the phone. At that moment, a flamboyant leather shoe stepped on her phone.

Before she could think, a disturbing voice was heard overhead.