Chapter 4: Send a Woman to the Presidential Suite

The moment the clock struck 6 PM, Clara shut down her computer.

Mia bounced over, designer tote swinging. "Rodeo Drive haul? My treat for surviving Serena-gate!"

Clara forced a smile. "Not tonight, Mia. Got something to do. Rain check?"

She'd received a text from Ethan Windsor's mother, inviting her to dinner. Since moving out, she rarely set foot in the Windsor mansion; they'd never treated her like family anyway.

She hesitated, but decided to go. 

First, though, she needed to visit the hospital—she could barely walk from the pain.

First stop: Metropolitan General Hospital. The cramping had worsened to knife-stabs with every step.

Gynecology Exam Room

Dr. Thorne typed briskly after the examination. "Topical gel. Apply morning and night." She slid the prescription across.

Clara hesitated. "Where... exactly?"

"Where it hurts."

"But... everything below my abdomen—"

The doctor sighed. "Young women these days. If you can't control bedroom intensity—"

"Understood." Clara snatched the paper, cheeks burning. Control? When Sebastian Hartwell decides to devour you?

Outside, she collided with a charcoal-suited chest.

"Clara Morgan. Fancy meeting you here."

"Dr. Lorimer. Fancy meeting you here." Clara shifted awkwardly; running into him outside gynecology was humiliating.

"Here for a visit or a check-up?" Julian's smile was knowing.

"Just a check-up." 

She bowed slightly,"I should go. CEO Hartwell is waiting for you at Imperial Hotel."

After she left, Julian popped into the exam room. "Dr, what's wrong with that beauty?

"Excessive intercourse. Uterine spasms, vaginal tearing."

Julian gaped. "Holy shit, that rough?"

TaXX Nightclub , Imperial Hotel- 9 PM

In the VIP booth, Sebastian Hartwell tapped his wineglass, eyeing Alexander Han. "How much does this place pull in nightly, Alex?"

Han clinked glasses. "Can't compete with you, mate." The hotel mogul owned half the city's hospitality empire.

Julian sauntered over, cigarette in hand. "No pussy patrol, Julian? Running late," Han teased.

"Found a bombshell at the hospital instead." Julian dropped into the booth, grinning at Sebastian. "Guess who I saw?"

Sebastian swirled his champagne,uninterested.

"Your secretary," Julian purred. "Clara Morgan. In Gynecology."

Sebastian's glass froze mid-air."Why was she at the hospital?"

Julian crossed his legs, lounging back with arms spread wide, his expression practically shouting: Beg me, Sebastian.

"Get to the point, Lorimer."

"Fifth Avenue retail space,"Julian lounged back, milking the moment.

"Done."

Startled by Sebastian's quick concession,Julian leaned in, voice dropping to a gossip-column whisper. "Diagnosis: uterine spasms and vaginal laceration. Poor thing could barely walk."

Alexander Han gaped, then stole a sideways glance at Sebastian's murderous expression. Something was very wrong.

Julian took a drag from his cigarette, blowing smoke rings. "Sebastian, your secretary looks so innocent, but damn—she gets rough?

"Honestly, both your secretaries—Clara and Mia—are smoking hot. How do you pick 'em?

Han kicked Julian under the table, but he rambled on:

"Wonder which asshole was so rough. Can't be you, right, Sebastian? Hahaha—"

The Melot Grand Cru bottle exploded against marble. Blood-red wine swallowed the platinum carpet. ($218,000 down the drain. Alexander's jaw tightened.)

Julian shot up. "Holy hell! You did break her!"

Sebastian stared at the dripping shards. All day, Clara's flinches replayed behind his eyelids—the tremor when he brushed her hand, the tear she blinked back after Serena's slap. This hospital visit? It clawed at his ribs. Since when do I care?

This woman seemed to possess a magic that not only got her into his bed but also burrowed into his chest. Being under someone's thumb? He hated that shit.

Just a woman—what the fuck was so special about her?

He stood abruptly.

"Alex."

The hotelier raised an eyebrow.

"A woman. Sent to my suite. Now."

Alex kept his tone flat. "You sure about this?"

Sebastian didn't respond, striding out of booth.

Julian gaped. "Sebastian, you gone psycho? Since when do you want a hookup?!"

Han sighed. "Shut up, Julian, before he kills you."