"Consider that last bottle a free sample," Felicia began, her tone businesslike. "You saw how well it worked, right? Sprinkle the powder, and the bleeding stops instantly. In three days, you'll be as good as new." She opened her bag, revealing five identical bottles. "I have five left. Are you interested, Mr. Russell?"
Her pitch was smooth, her enthusiasm genuine. "You're always getting injured; this is perfect for you. If it doesn't work, feel free to trash my reputation!"
Stephan raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable as he leaned back against the bed. His toned body, still exposed beneath the bandages she'd applied, highlighted the sharp contours of his abs and the alluring lines of his muscles. Felicia quickly averted her gaze, her thoughts threatening to wander—after all, they'd shared a wild night before. She composed herself.
Stephan smirked, noticing her momentary distraction. He calmly adjusted his shirt, his fingers moving slowly and deliberately; the amusement in his eyes was unmistakable.
"I'll take them all," he said casually, his voice low and smooth.
Felicia's annoyance vanished, replaced by a bright, businesslike smile. "That's what I like to hear, Mr. Russell!" She tapped the bottles confidently. "These are top-tier. They stop bleeding, speed healing, and even prevent scarring. They're priceless!"
She hesitated, unsure of the price. Cautiously, she held up five fingers. "This much. Reasonable, right?"
Stephan tilted his head, his gaze sharp. "Are you asking for 500,000?" he asked, amused. "Done."
Felicia's jaw dropped. "What?" She'd been thinking 50,000, but Stephan had clearly misunderstood—or deliberately overpaid. Before she could correct him, the familiar ding of a money transfer echoed from her phone. The full 500,000 had already arrived.
Her shock gave way to joy. She decided to overlook his earlier antics.
"Wait here," she said, rummaging through her bag. A moment later, she produced a small bottle filled with a pale, clear liquid. "This is a free gift," she said, handing it over. "Homemade perfume. I distilled it myself from gardenias before they removed the plants near my college lab. Use it as a room scent, or throw it out—your choice."
Felicia shrugged, attempting to downplay her gesture. She turned to leave, pausing at the door and glancing back. "Oh, by the way," she added casually, but with a hint of concern, "thanks for letting me stay. I've found a place to rent, so I'll be moving out soon. Also…" She hesitated, then spoke frankly, "You need to be more mindful of a pregnant woman's feelings. Don't neglect family because of work."
Stephan was halfway out of bed before her words registered. "Wait, are you pregnant?"
Felicia froze, staring at him incredulously. "What? No! What are you talking about?" She thought about this man juggling accusations of fathering another's child while simultaneously entangling her in his mess. Anger flared.
"I overheard you on the phone this afternoon at the casino," she spat. "You mentioned a kid. Are you seriously going to deny you're about to be a father?"
Stephan paused, momentarily stunned. His expression darkened. He lightly knocked her forehead.
"That's my sister!" he snapped, exasperated. "My biological sister!"
Felicia blinked, completely off guard. "Oh…"
Stephan continued, his tone dripping with irritation. "And no, there's no other woman. I've only ever touched you." His composure cracked; frustration radiated from him as he glared. He was half-tempted to pry open her head to understand her. Felicia hummed awkwardly, her expression unreadable. Whether she believed him remained anyone's guess.
Stephan didn't look away, his dark, commanding eyes exuding a raw intensity. His lips curled into a slow, taunting smirk. His voice dangerously low, he said, "After everything we've done, are you seriously going to stand there and say there's nothing between us?"