Nathan Fu's sharply defined face was obscured by the flickering hallway light, making his expression unreadable. His voice was cold and dismissive: "No need."
She had entered that room willingly—no one had forced her.
First, it was his nephew who'd written that scandalous love letter, and now this Quentin Sun trying to arrange a hotel room? Truly shameless.
He had always despised women with messy private lives.
Besides, why should he care about the affairs of a maid?
Without a second glance, Nathan turned and walked toward his room.
Room 809
Celia heard footsteps approaching. Turning around, she saw Quentin Sun entering, his expression sleazy and expectant.
So this was the real reason Linda had lured her here.
Celia narrowed her eyes. "Who are you?"
"The name's Quentin Sun. Aren't you the bride the Su family arranged for me?"
Because Celia was lying on her side, only the unscarred half of her face was visible. It was delicate and beautiful—enough to stir Quentin's interest instantly.
"Mister Sun," Celia said as she turned to reveal her entire face, "you must be mistaken. I'm Celia, the so-called 'clown girl' from the countryside."
The right side of her face bore a long, visible scar—like a thin centipede crawling across her cheek.
"What the hell? Where'd you come from, freak?" Quentin blurted. "Did the Su family seriously send you?"
"Don't be upset, Mister Sun. It's likely a misunderstanding. I have a twin sister—Serena. She's stunning, easily the most beautiful woman in Eastbridge. I'm sure she's the one meant for you."
Quentin's eyes lit up. "Where is she?"
"She should be on her way."
Just as she spoke, the door opened and Serena walked in.
"Celia, are you dumb? You forgot your keycard and made me bring it to you?" Serena snapped. She had received a text from Celia asking her to bring the card—part of Celia's plan to ensure she and Quentin "bonded" smoothly.
Quentin's sleazy gaze landed on Serena. His eyes widened with glee. This beauty—clearly the famed Serena of Eastbridge—was even more breathtaking than rumored.
"Finally, my bride!" Quentin exclaimed, rushing forward and wrapping Serena in a tight embrace.
"What are you doing? Let go of me!" Serena struggled. "You've got the wrong person! Celia is your bride!"
"Serena, shut up," Celia said coolly from the couch, a smile playing on her lips. "You think the Su family would pair someone like me with Mr. Sun? Look at him—elegant, accomplished. He obviously deserves the most beautiful woman in Eastbridge."
She turned to Quentin, her voice syrupy. "Only someone like Serena is worthy of a man of your stature."
Quentin burst into laughter. "The Su family wouldn't dare mess with me. Come on, sweetheart—let's have some fun."
He shoved Serena onto the bed. Her face went pale with horror.
"No—please—let me go! Celia! Help me!"
Her desperate cries followed Celia as she turned and calmly walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Celia left the hotel room and was about to head home when her phone rang again.
It was Julian Fu.
He had somehow gotten her number and had been calling all day, nonstop. She'd thought he was joking the night before in the car—but he was serious. He actually wanted to date her.
But Julian was Nathan Fu's nephew. How could she sleep with the uncle and then fall in love with the nephew?
She didn't want to be tangled with either of them.
Celia didn't answer. She turned to find a familiar silhouette heading her way.
Julian again? Seriously?
Nowhere to hide.
In desperation, she flung open the door of the nearest presidential suite and slipped inside, hiding quickly.
But Julian headed straight for the same door.
Was he part bloodhound?
Celia scanned the enormous room, then sprinted to the king-sized bed and dove beneath the thick covers.
The door opened.
"Uncle! Uncle, are you in here?" Julian's voice rang out.
Uncle?
Celia froze under the blankets, her heart nearly stopping.
Was this... Nathan Fu's room?
At that moment, the bathroom door opened with a click, and a low, irritated voice sounded:
"Julian, are you trying to summon the dead?"