Alexander Johnson smiled as he spoke, his eyes gleaming with a chilling coldness.
At the same time, his hands continued to roam across Chloe Simpson's body.
He wasn't doing anything overtly aggressive, nor did he press further to seduce her.
He was merely touching her lightly, almost imperceptibly, starting from her arm and moving downward, to her side, her hip, her buttocks, her thighs…
The most potent weapon, however, was his words.
As for Chloe, her blood surged, her chest heaving intensely, and her mind—unwillingly—wandered with Alexander's words, picturing Lucas Hughes now standing right there on the road outside the floor-to-ceiling window.
At that moment, even the heavens seemed to conspire with him. Out of nowhere, the rain just stopped.
Now, Chloe could clearly see the road, every detail under the glow of the streetlights laid bare, even the shadows splattered on the pavement.
"No! Alexander Johnson, let me go! You can't do this!"
Chloe suddenly became frantic.
