Chapter 30


    Despite the provocation, Tyrone’s face remained impassive.


    Quintessa’s lips curling disdainfully; she thought he was all about restraint – until she attempted to


    retract her foot and found it trapped. Tyrone’s legs were like a vise, mping down on her calf with an


    immovable determination.


    And as if that wasn’t audacious enough, his hand had the gall to wander up to her thigh, an


    unapologetic trespasser in broad daylight.


    Quintessa’s body shook with rage. What was this?


    To him, she was nothing but a ything, avable at his whim. She reached out and twisted his hand


    hard, but rather than recoiling, he doubled down, his hand venturing under her skirt with impudent


    stealth.


    With actions so lecherous, Tyrone still managed to look every bit the refined gentleman.


    Quintessa’s gaze turned icy as she snapped her head up, but suddenly, a mocking smile graced her


    lips. Did he think her indignation was for show? Let him touch; she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of


    a response.


    She turned her attention to the director and producer, effectively dismissing Tyrone’s


    N?velDrama.Org content.


    presence.


    The more she antagonized Tyrone, the more he thrived on it. The best tactic was to ignore. him


    completely.


    Quintessa was generous with her smiles to everyone else. When she wasn’t trying to seduce, her smile


    was infectious and genuine, a beauty thatmanded attention.


    But in Tyrone’s eyes, a shadow began to form.


    The producer was quite taken with Quintessa. A little tipsy, he was loose–lipped with hispliments,


    “Ms. Young, your eyes are captivating – so expressive. Rare in this show


    biz.”


    Tyrone interjected, “Cosmetic surgery.”


    The producer, flustered, tried again, “Your nose is so well–defined.”


    Tyrone cut in, “It’s augmented.”


    The producer continued, “Your breasts are sensational.”


    Tyrone smirked, “All thanks to the imntation.”


    Quintessa’s grip on her ss tightened, trembling with restrained fury. She wanted to throttle him, to


    shout the unspoken truth of their intimacy, challenging him to wait for what woulde.


    17.05


    Violet couldn’t stand the tension. Quintessa was her charge, after all. She forced a smile, Well Mr. York,


    you’re quite the joker.”


    Tyrone’s reply was cold, “I wasn’t joking.”


    The sound of ss on wood echoed as Quintessa ced her ss down, her smile radiant under the


    lights. Before the silent audience, she threw down the gauntlet, To figure out whether they are


    imnted, why not find out for yourself tonight, Mr. York?”


    Tyrone leaned back slightly, “I just might.”


    The simmering broth on the table bubbled away. The room fell into an eerily silence, no one daring to


    make a peep; the atmosphere was chilled to the bone, with only the pot of broth offering any warmth.


    Violet, desperate to escape the tension, concocted a reason to take Quintessa out, “Excuse us, Quinn


    and I need go to the restroom.”


    “Yeah.”


    As they rose, Quintessa’s foot remained caught in Tyrone’s trap. He didn’t budge, causing her to


    stumble toward him. Tyrone didn’t help, and just let Quintessa crash straight into his embrace.


    It was then that Tyrone’s arms encircled Quintessa’s waist, his hands caressing her through the fabric


    of her dress, “Ms. Young, so eager to fall into my arms?”