Guinevere’s fist clenched tightly. If she caught Belle trying to seduce Weston, she wouldn’t let her get away with it. Belle was nothing but a plaything. Who did she think she was? With her background, she should know her place and never try to take something that didn’t belong to her.
“Mr. Ford, where are we headed?” Ben asked as he drove.
“Lowe Garden,” Weston replied flatly.
Ben hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to speak. He had no right to question his boss, but he couldn’t help but wonder if Weston was fully aware of the potential consequences. Guinevere had been keeping an eye on Lowe Garden lately. Would Weston really go there without concern?
Ben knew that Weston was a man who handled everything with precision, never leaving room for mistakes. He could easily notice any subtle actions, yet Weston didn’t seem concerned about it in the least. It was as though he had no regard for the possible fallout.
Realizing there was nothing he could say, Ben swallowed his doubts. As an assistant, he had no place in dictating what Weston did.
The car came to a stop outside Lowe Garden. When the manager received word of Weston’s arrival, he quickly instructed Belle to greet him. “Mr. Ford is here to see you.”
Belle’s heart raced with excitement. She had sent him a message earlier, simply to test her luck—telling him that she missed him and hoped he might visit. To her surprise, he had actually come. She couldn’t believe it.
Her smile was shy, almost demure. She was no longer the woman who wore thick layers of makeup in an attempt to stand out among the other women. Since learning about Weston’s preferences, she had toned down her look—opting for a more natural appearance, with less makeup and a white dress that made her seem innocent. Yet, she’d deliberately left some areas exposed to exude a sultry allure.
Belle was aware of the other women at Lowe Garden, some of whom were even more beautiful than she was. It made her feel insecure, afraid they might steal Weston’s attention. But tonight, she was determined to get closer to him.
“Mr. Ford, you’re here?” she asked softly, her voice tinged with sweetness.
Weston gave a casual nod. “I’m here to see you.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Can you stay with me tonight?” she asked, taking hold of his arm. When he didn’t pull away, she grew bolder. “I learned a new dance. Would you like to see it?”
At Lowe Garden, the women’s main purpose was to please the men, to do whatever it took to satisfy them—even if it meant performing, singing, or dancing.
Weston’s eyes darkened with understanding as he nodded. “Let’s go to the room.”
Belle’s face flushed, and she quickly agreed. “Okay.”
Although she had seen all kinds of things during her time at Lowe Garden, Weston still had the power to make her blush with a single word. She excused herself to change, her heart racing in anticipation.
Inside the room, Weston casually took a seat, stretching out his long legs. His usual serious demeanor, so characteristic of his role at the company, was replaced by a subtle, unruly confidence. His eyes gleamed with an almost wicked gleam, a sharp contrast to the formal, business-like persona he usually displayed.
Belle was overwhelmed with a sense of fortune. She knew the man had a dark side. She would never forget the time he had choked her and forced her to call herself “Stella.” It had terrified her then, but Weston’s wealth and handsomeness were enough to make her forget that fear. She was willing to overlook anything for the chance to have him.
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