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Chapter 184
Chapter 184:
Then she stopped.
She looked back at the wreck of a man on the bar stool and frowned. Leaving him here would create a scene — paparazzi, whispers, a general degradation of her favorite after-hours establishment. She couldn’t allow it.
She exhaled sharply. “Fine p>
Vera snapped her fingers at the large bouncer near the exit, slapped a crisp hundred-dollar bill on the bar, and pointed at Julian. “Get him upright and put him in a taxi outside p>
The bouncer complied. Vera followed at a careful distance, holding her breath against the whiskey fumes as Julian was deposited into the back seat of a waiting yellow cab. She climbed in, pushing him firmly against the far door with the tip of her stiletto.
“The St. Regis,” she told the driver.
The taxi crawled through stop-and-go Manhattan traffic. Halfway there, Julian clutched his stomach. His face turned an alarming shade of green, and a wet, ominous gagging sound rose from his direction.
𝗣𝘰𝗽𝘂l𝗮𝗋 𝘀𝗍𝗼𝗿iеs 𝘰𝗻 𝘨𝗮𝘭𝘯o𝘃е𝗅s.с𝘰𝘮
Vera’s eyes went wide. She shoved him harder against the window. “If you vomit in this cab, I will strangle you with your own tie p>
The taxi lurched to a stop in front of the St. Regis. Vera threw two bills at the driver, hauled Julian out of the car, and dragged him through the lobby and into the private VIP elevator. She jabbed the button for the penthouse floor.
The elevator shot upward.
The sudden sensation was the final trigger.
Julian’s eyes rolled back. He shoved her aside, doubled over, and was violently, catastrophically sick. A wave of whiskey and bar food splattered against the mirrored walls and pooled across the polished floor. The acidic stench engulfed the confined space instantly. Vera lurched backward, but there was nowhere to go. The splash rebounded off the floor and landed squarely on the hem and front of her sixty-thousand-dollar vintage haute couture coat, soaking straight through to her custom heels.
Vera went completely still.
She looked down at the ruined silk. Her mind stopped functioning. The shock was too profound even for rage.
Julian, having emptied himself entirely, slumped back against the mirrored wall, closed his eyes, and began to snore.
The elevator chimed. The doors slid open.
The shock broke. What replaced it was volcanic.
“Julian Thorne!” Vera’s scream filled the hallway. “I am going to murder you p>
She seized him by the collar, dragged him down the hall, and kicked his suite door open with one Louboutin. She hauled him across the room and threw him face-first onto the king-sized bed.
Then she stood in the center of the suite, staring down at her destroyed coat, making quiet, furious promises to herself about exactly how this insufferable billionaire was going to pay.
Sharp, blinding sunlight cut through the gap in the heavy blackout curtains of the St. Regis penthouse suite.
The light found Julian directly.
