Chapter 573 Be Gentle!
After saying that, the person outside the door quickly withdrew and closed it. Damien’s handsome face hardened, his body enveloped in a chilling frost. Although he’d never seen Joyce, he vividly remembered her beautiful eyes from that night. The person at the door was Joyce! She had peered inside, her wonderful eyes catching his, yet she didn't recognize him. This damned woman! For the first time, Damien felt the urge to strangle her. She had slept with him, conceived his child, and then run away, ultimately forgetting him entirely. What did he mean to her?
Damien shoved the female technician away. “Stay away!” he warned. She, unwilling to miss such a high-quality man, had clung to him, but Damien’s cold, sinister gaze made her shiver and retreat, embarrassed. His chest heaved; he closed his eyes, her fleeting image now deeply ingrained in his memory, impossible to erase. Only then did Damien realize his daughter, Olive, had inherited not only her mother's eyes, but her stunning beauty as well.
Joyce's features were exquisitely delicate, almost breathtaking. Olive possessed a delicate, intelligent temperament, while Joyce exuded a softer, more playful femininity. Damien mused. His daughter was twenty-three; Joyce must be at least forty, yet showed no signs of age. More importantly, Joyce had clearly lived a life of luxury. He didn't need to guess how well she'd been cared for over the years. She was the woman from that night!
Damien opened his eyes and went outside. His private secretary stepped forward, reporting quietly, “Sir, based on the young master’s location, we’ve located the target. She entered this room moments ago. We should remain calm.” Damien pursed his lips. “Did she notice us?” The secretary shook his head. “No, sir. The target is in a good mood. Her entry was unassuming.”
At that moment, a man in an Elegant Garden uniform approached—the male technician Joyce had summoned for a massage. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” he asked suspiciously. Damien looked down at him. “Are you the technician the guest in this room requested?” The technician nodded. “Yes, I’m Elegant Garden’s top massager, and my rates are the highest.” Damien turned to his secretary. “Throw him out!” “Yes, sir.” The secretary gestured to two burly bodyguards who promptly lifted and ejected the technician. “Who are you? What are you doing?!” the technician yelled as he was thrown out.
Damien felt slightly better after the technician’s departure. “Stay here; I’ll go in,” he said, entering the VIP room. It was luxuriously appointed. He immediately saw Joyce, already changed and wrapped in a large bath towel, lying on the soft bed, awaiting her massage. She was clearly in high spirits, having attempted to persuade Anabelle to join her at the spa, only to relax alone instead.
Damien watched from behind as she hummed a cheerful tune, her sweet voice accompanying the happy swing of her bare legs. She was utterly content. Damien scoffed. He’d just been harassed by the female technician; his suit was likely stained with rouge and gouache. A fastidious man, he removed his jacket, revealing a black shirt with two loosened collar buttons, exposing his Adam's apple and collarbone. His silver cufflinks were impeccably fastened. An expensive men's watch adorned his wrist; the room's lights played upon him, highlighting his magnificence at almost fifty. He sat quietly, his gaze fixed on her.
Joyce, mid-song, suddenly stopped. “Haven’t you started yet?” she asked, speaking from her stomach without raising her head.
Damien was silent for a few seconds before rising and approaching Joyce. Her long, chestnut-colored hair cascaded around her; her skin was youthful and firm, her back gleaming smoothly. Damien quickly glanced down, his eyes briefly lingering on her buttocks before he looked away. Joyce felt someone near her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Hello? Could you please hurry up and massage me? A good job means a generous tip.”
Hearing her prompt, Damien reached out and began to massage her back.