Episode 88
But not the Elijah impersonator. He hesitated, his face betraying indecision. Clinging to a misguided bravado, he forced a smile and raised a glass of wine as if to smooth things over. “Miss, if you’re upset, I can—”
“Leave!” Sandra interrupted, her disgust as tangible as the shattered glass at her feet. She pointed firmly toward the door, her patience snapping like a brittle twig. “Or do you want me to report you?”
Just then, the door to the adjoining room swung open.
Oliver strolled out casually, his jacket slung over one shoulder. His eyes widened at the scene before him. Sandra stood amid the scattering young men, her hair slightly disheveled, and her cheeks flushed with anger. Even in her fury, she exuded a magnetic charm.
Oliver’s lips twisted into a teasing smirk as he glanced toward Elijah. “Isn’t that your wife, Elijah—”
But the moment he caught Elijah’s dark, stormy expression, the rest of his remark died in his throat.
A heavy silence filled the room. The others, their gossiping instincts quelled by a wave of fear, silently wished they could disappear.
Sensing the tension rising, Oliver clapped his hands in a decisive, commanding gesture. “Alright, everyone, the show’s over. Head home, mind your business, and keep quiet.”
It was a lifeline to the frightened crowd. Grateful, they mumbled quick promises of silence and scattered like mice fleeing a predator.
Within moments, the bustling hallway was deserted.
Elijah wasted no time. He pushed open the door to Sandra’s private room with a stride that radiated his simmering anger. “Sandra! What in the world are you doing?”
Inside, Sandra was no longer the fierce, defiant figure from moments earlier. Her earlier outrage had dissolved into the haze of intoxication, leaving her in a drunken stupor. She was just about to collapse onto the couch when a tall, sharp silhouette entered the room.
Even through her blurred vision, the man’s presence was unmistakable. His dignified bearing and composed demeanor stood out like a beacon amid the earlier chaos. His resemblance to Elijah was striking—so much so that Sandra let out a breathy laugh.
Taking a few unsteady steps forward, she lost her balance and fell directly into his arms. For reasons she couldn’t comprehend, her body didn’t resist the contact.
Her fingers grazed his face in a playful pat as she giggled. “Well, well, what do we have here? Finally, a proper replica! This place had you hidden away all along, huh? They really saved the best for last.”
Her voice, tinged with flirtation, carried a dreamy quality. She made no attempt to leave his embrace; in fact, she seemed entirely content nestled there.
Elijah stared down at her, his jaw tightening as his mind replayed the sight of those young men slinking out of the room. His mood darkened further. Even if she was drunk, did that give her the right to fall so casually into another man’s arms? His thoughts spiraled, wondering just how far her carelessness had gone.
Reining in his fury, he decided now wasn’t the time for confrontation. Without a word, he scooped her up into his arms, her weight insignificant as he carried her out of the room.
Sandra didn’t resist; instead, she looped her arms around his neck, her smile as sweet as it was oblivious. To an observer, they might have appeared to be a couple lost in the throes of young love.
At the door, Elijah cast a pointed look at Oliver. “Erase all security footage,” he commanded, his tone cold and unyielding.
Oliver, observing the scene, rubbed his chin thoughtfully. His eyes followed Elijah and Sandra until they disappeared, his mind whirring with unspoken thoughts.
