Chapter 24
Octavia, frantic with worry that Joycelyn would escape, rushed to the half-open door and cautiously entered. The room was dimly lit, hazy and unclear. She tentatively called, "Joycelyn?"
Joycelyn was hiding by the door, waiting. Octavia walked further in and froze at the sight of Tommy lying on the floor. Her heart leaped. In her panic, she noticed a shadow beside her. Before she could turn, something heavy struck her, and she crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Joycelyn wiped fingerprints from the hairdryer, replaced it, then splashed water on Tommy's face and kicked him twice to wake him. She quickly ran to the door, turned off the lights, and closed it behind her.
The cold water revived Tommy. Regaining consciousness, he felt a woman beside him. Without hesitation, he rolled over, pinning Octavia beneath him, and slapped her repeatedly.
"Dammit, you asked for this," he growled, each slap forceful.
Octavia snapped back to reality, recoiling as a hand groped her. Her skirt was torn; he was about to assault her. Terrified, she pleaded, "Mr. Cross, I'm not Joycelyn. I'm Octavia, your son's girlfriend."
She struggled, but Tommy was too heavy. He was consumed by lust and rage, intent on venting his frustration on her.
At the door, Joycelyn heard Octavia's cries. This time, she felt no sympathy; if she hadn't escaped, it would have been her. As she closed the door, she bumped into a solid chest, nearly screaming.
"It's me," Ellison said, breathless from running. Sweat poured down his face. His worried expression had settled into calm focus.
Joycelyn, terrified moments before, found comfort in his presence. She pouted, then threw herself into his arms, her voice small and vulnerable. "Finally you're here."
Shaken by the experience, Joycelyn clung to Ellison, trembling. He held her tightly, relieved she was unharmed. He breathed deeply. "Are you okay? Who told you to drink?"
"I" Joycelyn began to explain, but lewd insults from the room interrupted. It was clear the two inside had gone too far.
Ellison's brow furrowed in anger. He covered Joycelyn's ears and led her toward the elevator, eager to escape.
"What happened?" he asked.
"That old man tried to take advantage of me, plying me with alcohol. Octavia didn't help—she even pushed me into his room. So, I set them up," she said.
Ellison raised an eyebrow, his expression neutral.
"Her boyfriend is the man's son," Joycelyn added, pouting. Her voice was guilty but defiant.
"Using her own methods against her. Not a bad move," Ellison said.
"Don't you think that's kind of vicious?" Joycelyn asked, still shaken.
"She set you up first. If you hadn't been lucky, you'd be the one humiliated. If it were me, I'd have sent more men for her."
Joycelyn's guilt brightened into wide-eyed surprise.
Ellison's gaze softened, then turned cold. His voice was firm. "I'd rather you hurt others than let them hurt you."
Joycelyn looked up at him, awestruck. She thought, No wonder he's the CEO—his sense of responsibility is off the charts.
The elevator reached the underground parking lot. Ellison carried her out.
"Let me down, I can walk," Joycelyn said, unused to being carried.
"Someone's coming," Ellison said abruptly.
"Ah!" Joycelyn jumped, ducking her head against his chest, too embarrassed to look up. "Stay hidden. We'll talk when we get home." Ellison's voice was low and serious.
He thought, She needs a lesson about drinking outside. If this isn't handled, who knows what could happen next time? He pinched her waist, a silent warning.
Joycelyn was irritated, and the alcohol still affected her. In frustration, she bit his chest.
Through the fabric of his shirt, Ellison winced. His voice, rough and serious, was barely a whisper. "Joycelyn, no more drinking outside."
"I didn't know there was alcohol in the coffee!"
Looking back, she realized Linda must have put liquor in her coffee. She thought, It has to be Linda's doing.
"You're the one who was foolish enough to go to a drinking party," Ellison's tone was stern, but his sentence was cut short by a sharp intake of breath. He thought, This girl has really gotten addicted to biting.
Joycelyn felt wronged, thinking, Ellison, you blame me just because… Ellison stopped, his gaze lowering to Joycelyn. Linda is an old friend of yours.
Noticing he'd stopped, Joycelyn avoided his gaze, her eyes downcast. She bit her lip, then curled into his chest, pretending to sleep.
The extraneous numbers and notations have been removed as they appear to be unrelated to the narrative. The text has been reformatted for improved readability. Some phrasing has been slightly altered for improved flow and clarity.