On the Ruins of His Regret I Soar novel Chapter 131

A man!

There was a man inside Jessica's apartment!

The realization hit Lance like a physical blow, driving him to the edge of madness. He felt like a wolf who had just watched his mate run off with another pack—a primal mix of rage and desolation.

His face was a mask of suppressed fury. He got out of the car, strode to the gate, and slammed his hand on the buzzer. For a long time, there was no answer. The lights in the master bedroom remained off; Jessica was probably still asleep. But the man's silhouette was still visible in the other window.

Lance clenched his fists and slammed them against the heavy iron gate, which groaned in protest before falling silent again. He pulled out his phone and dialed Jessica's number over and over.

Finally, she answered.

"Jessica Brown," he growled, his voice hoarse with rage, "who is the man you're keeping in your apartment?"

Jessica, still groggy from being woken up, was confused. "Who is this?" she mumbled, as if still dreaming.

"Get down here and open this gate," Lance snarled, taking a deep breath to control himself. "I'm at your front door, Jessica. You owe me an explanation!"

The words finally broke through her sleepy haze. She sat up, rubbing her face hard. Lance called? He's outside?

She scrambled out of bed, rushed to the balcony, and peered down. Sure enough, there he was. Her phone rang again in her hand. She put it to her ear.

"Don't play games with me, Jessica," he retorted. "There's nothing going on between me and Catherine. But you're a different story, aren't you?"

Jessica hung up and went back to bed.

Consumed by rage, Lance picked up a loose brick from the landscaping, and hurled it with all his might at the secondary bedroom window. With a sharp crack, the glass shattered.

Inside, George, who had been standing behind the curtains, allowed a small smile to play on his lips. He looked down, deliberately mussed up his silk robe, and walked over to the master bedroom next door. He knocked.

Jessica opened the door a moment later. In the bright light of the hallway, the first thing she saw was the expanse of George's chest—a sweep of pale, defined muscle that wasn't overly bulky, but lean and powerful.