Chapter 13: If You Call Me Honey
Chapter 13: If You Call Me Honey
Chapter 13: If You Call Me Honey
Playing dumb?
Cheyenne was in no rush to make him admit his crime.
A faint smile played across her lips as the man grew increasingly uneasy; he even tried to stand up and run away.
But in an instant, Cheyenne grabbed him by the shoulder and forced the glass into his mouth with her other hand.
"If you're going to offer me a drink," she said coolly, "it's only fair that you have some too."
"You... you bitch!"
The man was caught off guard and forced to take a few sips of wine, causing the red liquid to trickle down his fair chin and stain his shirt.
The color was like blood, and it dyed the shirt pink.
Cheyenne let go of him and pulled out a handkerchief from somewhere, carefully wiping her hands.
Even the nails were wiped meticulously, as if the man was some kind of dirty things.
"Keep insulting me, and I'll make you swallow even the shards of glass, believe it or not?"
"You dare!"
The man thought that he was caught off guard by her attack just now, which is why he looked so embarrassed. She's just a woman, and he can handle her easily.
He extended his hand and reached towards Cheyenne's mask, saying, "You bitch, let me see what you look like. How dare you play tricks on me."
However, before his hand could touch Cheyenne, he was forcibly dragged out by two security guards wearing black uniforms.
"Let go of me! What are you doing?" The man shouted loudly and said defiantly.
In an instant, behind the two security guards, a tall man with a refined figure walked over. He was wearing a dark blue suit and had a fox mask on his face.
He exuded an air of nobility, making it impossible for others to ignore him.
With a long stride, he walked to Cheyenne's side.
His voice was incredibly gentle, "Baby, it scared you just now, didn't it? It's all my fault for being late. Don't be angry, okay?"
Cheyenne looked up and, through the mask, just by looking at those eyes, she knew who the person was.
Goosebumps were all over her as she rolled her eyes and said, "Omari, can you please speak normally? Otherwise, I suspect I might snap you any moment."
"... Don't call me Omari. However, if you call me 'honey', I'd be willing to let you snap me."
"Dream on!" Cheyenne sneered.
The man sighed and replied, "Cheyenne, you're really heartless. It's such a small request, but you're unwilling to meet it. I heard you got divorced and immediately prepared to propose to you."
To return to the subject, how dared that man drug Cheyenne's drink?
"Castrate him and throw him into the nightclub." Omari ordered his bodyguards.
The man who was gentle and tender just a second ago immediately changed into a cold demeanor the next second.
The difference was so great that it seemed to create an illusion.
The man widened his eyes, subconsciously tightened his legs, and hurriedly said, "You... you dare, this is illegal."
"Cheyenne, this man is very interesting. I have lived for almost thirty years and it's the first time I've heard someone talk about law in front of me."
Omari Lara was an internationally renowned lawyer. The cases he took were all earth-shattering major ones.
Moreover, he had never been defeated before.
He had the ability to turn black into white.
But his legal fees is extremely high and most people cannot afford it. Even if he only takes one case per year, his wealth and status are beyond reach.
"I can only say that the ignorant are fearless." Cheyenne waved her hand and chuckled softly.
"Cheyenne, you're pretty, so you're right."
"Wait, does being pretty have anything to do with what I said?" The woman hummed softly, not being modest at all about her own beauty. NôvelDrama.Org (C) content.
Omari smirked, wrapping his large hand around her shoulder, "Of course it does. Since you're so beautiful, and even if what you say is wrong, it's right in my eyes."
Here we go again!
This great lawyer likes to tease her when he has nothing else to do!
Cheyenne dare not take it seriously, since this guy's words are sometimes true and sometimes false... even she can't tell the difference.
Reaching out, Cheyenne shook off Omari's arm and sat down in the middle. "Alright, stop showing off your charm that has nowhere to spread. The auction is about to start and I have important things to do."
"Who said my charm can't be spread anywhere? But I only spread it to you. If you don't like it, then let's forget about it for now," Omari said regretfully.
He reached out and pulled Cheyenne's soft hand, walking towards the front row of the auction.
"Why sit here? You're petite. What can you see from here? Come, let's sit together in the front!"
The front three rows of the auction house were not seats that could be bought with money alone! The people who could sit there were undoubtedly the top-tier elites of high society or powerful figures in their own right.
As Omari casually and effortlessly pulled a woman to sit in the first row, countless people looked on with envy and surprise.
Cheyenne had wanted to keep a low profile, but ended up being forced into the spotlight.
Oh well, she thought. With her mask on, no one would know who she was. She might as well bask in Mr. Lara's glory tonight.
Just as she took her seat, a soft voice mixed with some annoyance came from behind her. "Kelvin, that's my seat!"
Kelvin...
Hearing the familiar name made Cheyenne's body stiffen.
She didn't turn around but knew that the man's cold and sharp gaze had landed on her.
Kelvin gave Abbie a brief glance and said softly, "Just switch seats wit her."
"Okay." Abbie gathered up the train of her white gown, walked over, and sat gracefully next to Cheyenne. Her eyes occasionally glanced at the woman who had taken her seat - wearing a red split dress, revealing slender fair thighs which exuded sexiness and allure; feet adorned with silver high heels painted with bright red nail polish - even her toes were perfectly crafted.
A tinge of jealousy flashed through Abbie's eyes.
"Why are you hands so cool? Let me warm them up for you," Omari said, sensing her unease and looking over at the man beside them.
He understood what was going on.
Omari gently took Cheyenne's delicate hands in his own and blew a warm breath onto them before cupping them with his hands. The sight of their hands held together was like something out of a movie, pleasing to the eye.
"Okay... I'm not cold anymore," Cheyenne whispered in a low voice, afraid Kelvin might recognize her.
She looked away from him.
"If you get tired, just rest your head on my shoulder for a bit," Omari offered wistfully, still missing the cool slipperiness of her palm against his own skin.
As he pulled back his hand, he still felt very reluctant.
'Why do that woman's hands and her bracelet look so familiar?' Abbie wondered to herself but couldn't find any clues as to where she'd seen them before.