Chapter 106
When the production crew outside called it a wrap, Quintessa sat up, while her gaze was lingering on
Jonathan’s smooth features. “You seem to be nice to everyone, but what’s the real deal? You know
what’s in your heart.”
A shadow of coolness crossed Jonathan’s face as he looked back at Quintessa with an oppressive
intensity. “Listen, kiddo, there are things better left unsaid once you see through them. It’s for your own
good.”
Quintessa snorted withughter. “Seems like keeping my mouth shut hasn’t done me any good so far,
Mister. Please, step aside. I need to get out of bed.*
“Out of bed? I’ve heard that you, Quintessa, are more familiar with getting into them.”
Despite the vulgar insinuation of his words, it seemed his character was not tainted by what he said.
Her smile broadened. Apparently, Roxanne had made sure her reputation for ‘sleeping around‘ was
known to everyone on set.
Quintessa leaned forward suddenly, pinning Jonathan with her body. She locked eyes with him and
said, “So, I’d advise movie star Jonathan to keep your distance. They say I’m the kind of woman who’s
slept with every man in the crew.”
After a moment of stunned silence, Jonathan replied, “If you’ve really been with everyone, what am I
then? Not a man? I’d like to think I’m worth a bit more than the others, right? If you were really after
quick gains, you wouldn’t ignore an Oscar winner like me, would you?” For a split second, he thought
Quintessa was pretty badass; it’s almost like the roles of men and women between them had been
reversed.Content bel0ngs to N?vel(D)r/a/ma.Org.
With a sly grin, Quintessa pinched Jonathan’s chin. “Ever heard of ying hard to get?”
Jonathan retorted, “Don’t paint yourself in such a bad light.”
Suddenly, Quintessa didn’t feel like talking anymore. She let go, and her expression was chilling as she
pushed aside the bed curtains. “You’re wrong. I’m exactly that bad, even worse than you could
imagine.”
She was bad, indeed, worse even than she admitted to herself. If anyone dare block her path, she
wouldn’t care what she might do.
It waste when Quintessa shed her costume, wiped off her makeup, and changed into her clothes to
head back to the hotel.
After a night shoot thatsted until 5 in the morning, she arrived at the hotel, feeling too tired to be
picky about its modest amodations.
She stumbled to her room, too weary to even flick on the light. She made her way to the bed and
copsed onto it after feeling its edge; too exhausted to even undress, she was just ready to sleep.
But within seconds, Quintessa sprang up from the bed.
Click. The room light snapped on.
She saw the man lying on her bed.
All the panic in her eyes vanished as she spotted him, and her face twisted into a sardonic smile. “Well,
well, look who it is. Sneaking into my bed in the middle of the night? Isn’t this Mr. York?”
In the dead of night, in Zion City, which was miles from Emberbrook, Quintessa couldn’t believe Tyrone
would show up in her bed. There were no five–star hotels here, no gourmet cuisine, and certainly no
pretty girls.
Tyrone wore a shirt, the top two buttons of which were undone, revealing his alluring corbone.
Despite his weary look, his eyes were bright as he leaned against the headboard, gazing at Quintessa.