Chapter 361

The night was ink-black, neon lights flickering outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Bianca Savigny's gaze involuntarily trailed downward. Even through his dress shirt, she could imagine the taut muscle definition beneath. A body like that would be devastating in bed.

Her cheeks burned just as the man looked up.

His dark eyes were fathomless, cold as glacial ice.

"Copying Sophia's mannerisms?"

Ethan Roscente's voice was even icier than his stare.

Bianca's pulse jumped. So that woman's name was Sophia.

"I wasn't—" Her voice trembled.

His mocking laugh made her hand jerk. The water glass tilted, spilling onto his shirt.

"Sorry!" She dropped to her knees, frantically dabbing at the stain until his iron grip seized her wrist.

"Stop imitating her." His disgusted frown twisted her insides. "Disgusting."

Tears welled instantly. "Mr. Roscente, I really—"

"Get out." He flung her hand away.

She collapsed onto the floor, tearful eyes lifting. "Mr. Roscente, it was an accident—"

"And stop mimicking her expressions." He wiped his hands with a tissue. "Pathetic."

Bianca paled.

Had she misread the situation? But she was already committed...

Biting her lip, she angled her most flattering profile, eyes glistening. "Mr. Roscente, you've had too much to drink. Let me take care of you?"

When he stayed silent, she dared add: "Anything you want..."

Ethan studied her. At this angle, the resemblance to Sophia was uncanny.

But Sophia would never look at him like this. That woman was all thorns, piercing him relentlessly.

"My driver's waiting downstairs." He stood to dismiss her.

Bianca panicked. "Ethan—"

"Take care of me?" His laugh was razor-sharp. "With what exactly?"

Flushing, her fingers crept toward his trousers. "I can do everything Sophia does. And things she wouldn't..."

Her fingertips grazed his belt buckle when excruciating pain shot through her wrist.

Ethan's grip was vise-like, squeezing until cold sweat broke across her skin.