Chapter 223: I’m Done Waiting

Claire’s eyes darted toward the incense, realization hitting her like a wave. “You twisted bastard…” she muttered, reaching out to swat the burning stick to the ground. She assumed this was all part of Vincent’s elaborate plan, unaware that Zachary had orchestrated the entire setup. It seemed obvious now—a man so practiced in preying on women would naturally have tricks up his sleeve. She had been cautious, avoiding the wine, but still, she’d fallen into the trap. Her head felt heavy, her strength ebbing away with each passing second. Panic began to creep in.

She couldn’t stay here—if she did, there was no telling what Vincent might do to her. But Vincent, too, had been affected by the incense, though not as much. Standing farther from it, he’d inhaled less of its effects. His mind, however, was clouded with lust, and when he saw Claire trying to leave, his instincts took over.

As she managed to get the door open, Vincent lunged at her, dragging her back into the room. “You think you can leave? Hah!” he sneered, slamming the door shut and locking it behind them. “You little tease—once you’re in my grasp, there’s no way you’re getting away.”

Vincent shoved her back toward the room, the force causing her to stumble. Thankfully, the incense had burned out, and without inhaling more of its fumes, Claire’s head began to clear, if only slightly. Even so, her limbs were weak, her usual strength diminished. On a normal day, she could have taken Vincent down in seconds, but tonight was different.

“Mr. Patterson,” Claire said weakly, lowering her head as if in submission. “I see now—I was wrong. I shouldn’t have tried to outsmart you. I know there’s no way I’m getting out of this tonight, so I won’t fight anymore. All I ask is that you sign the documents, and then I’ll do whatever you want.”

Feigning defeat, Claire softened her tone, hoping to buy time. She knew that once the effects wore off, Vincent wouldn’t stand a chance against her. Vincent’s expression shifted into one of smug satisfaction, his guard lowering. “Oh, so now you want to play nice?” he sneered. “If you’d just agreed earlier, all I’d have asked for was one night of your attention. But it’s too late for that now. You’ll have to keep me entertained for a few days at least, until I’m satisfied. Then maybe—maybe I’ll think about signing your little papers.”

Claire knelt on the ground, head bowed, her demeanor one of submission. “Yes, Mr. Patterson,” she said, her voice dripping with false compliance. “I’ll do whatever you say. It’s all up to you.”

Inside, she was fuming, but she kept her expression docile. She had no intention of letting him get away with this. Claire bided her time, knowing that the moment her strength returned, Vincent would regret every word he’d said.

“Come here and make me happy,” Vincent commanded, a smug grin spreading across his face as he flopped onto the bed. Claire felt a surge of fury at his words. If she had the strength, she’d have slapped him so hard his head would spin. But for now, she had to play along.

“Mr. Patterson,” she said weakly, her voice deliberately trembling, “I… I don’t have the strength… I can barely even talk, let alone crawl over to you…”

Her words only seemed to excite him further. His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he got up and grabbed her by the arm, hauling her effortlessly onto the bed. Claire landed hard, her vision spinning from the force of the throw. Before she could regain her bearings, Vincent was already on top of her.

His bloated, leering face loomed over hers, and the sight alone made her stomach churn. She swallowed her revulsion, forcing herself to stay in character. If she lashed out now, it would all be over.

“Mr. Patterson,” she whimpered, her voice small and shaky, “I’m scared… I’ve never done this before… Please, be gentle…”

The lie rolled off her tongue effortlessly. Men like Vincent always seemed to have a sick obsession with innocence, and she knew exactly how to exploit it. His face lit up with glee. “Oh? A virgin, huh? Even better! Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure tonight is unforgettable. You’ll thank me when it’s over.”

Vincent’s excitement reached a fever pitch as he rubbed his hands together, practically salivating at the thought. “Ah! Please, Mr. Patterson, not so rough,” Claire cried out each time he moved closer, her trembling voice a calculated plea.

For the next thirty minutes, she skillfully stalled him. Every time he made a move, she’d cry out, hesitate, or shift just enough to slow him down. It was excruciating, but it worked—for a while. But Vincent’s patience was wearing thin. His brows furrowed, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“You little minx,” he growled. “You’re stalling, aren’t you?”

“No, I… I swear I’m not…” Claire’s mind raced. How had he caught on so soon? The effects of the incense still hadn’t worn off entirely, leaving her feeling weak and vulnerable.

“Liar!” Vincent bellowed. “You think I’m stupid? You’re just trying to waste time. Well, enough of that! I’m done waiting!”

He reached for her clothes, intent on tearing them away. Claire’s heart raced, panic flaring. She needed a new plan—and fast.