Chapter 201: The Night Deepened

The night deepened. Grant Holloway stared at his phone screen, the red number of missed calls burning his eyes. Three from his mother, one from Paige Lawson—the relentless calls made his temples throb.

Mason Reed swirled his glass and approached. "Leaving at nine?"

Grant loosened his tie, dark fire simmering in his eyes. The chandelier's light glinted off his sharp jawline like an unsheathed blade.

"I'll have the driver take you," Mason said, wisely stepping back.

As the elevator doors closed, Julian Cross's laughter drifted from the private room. "Never thought I'd see the day Grant got played by a canary."

Mason kicked him. "Shut up."

"Am I wrong?" Julian waved his phone. "Just got word—Clara Whitmore's pulling an all-nighter in Ashford University lab. Microscopes are her new obsession. Doubt she remembers a certain Mr. Holloway."

The liquor cabinet's glass reflected Julian's smug face. He still remembered Clara waiting outside the club for Grant, drenched like a stray dog in the rain.

Who knew strays could grow fangs?

"Should I call Connor Hayes?" Julian scrolled through his contacts. "Since the main act left."

Connor's refusal was immediate. "I quit."

"Grant's not here!"

"Making Clara pear stew," came the reply, accompanied by the clink of porcelain. "She's been coughing."

Julian nearly threw his phone.

The black executive sedan cut through neon lights. Grant rolled down the window. The early autumn wind carried osmanthus fragrance, but it couldn't disperse the suffocation in his chest.

In the rearview mirror, the villa blazed with light. Catherine Holloway's nutritionist carried bird's nest upstairs. Paige's pink slippers by the entrance glared like a fresh wound.