Mr. West clutched his groin, writhing in agony and groaning through clenched teeth.
Rebecca wasn’t about to let him off that easily. She gave him another swift kick, then stomped on his hand, leaning in with a steely glare. “Who sent you?”
Mr. West howled in pain but turned defiant. “I came here on my own. No one sent me.”
Rebecca didn’t believe a word of it. She was convinced someone was behind him—she’d suspected Katherine had set her up five years ago, but there’d been no proof. Now, with Mr. West delivered straight to her, there was no way she’d let this chance slip by.
She seized his arm and twisted it sharply.
Mr. West screamed, “Murder! She’s killing me!”
Rebecca’s voice was icy. “Tell me who put you up to this, or I’ll break your arm for good.”
He’d underestimated this pretty little thing—she was ruthless, and his arm felt like it was about to snap. If only he’d known, he never would have messed with her.
Just as he was about to blurt out everything, Rebecca suddenly let go.
She’d meant to press him further, but a sweet, almost intoxicating scent hit her nose. The moment it filled her lungs, all her strength began to drain away. Her grip slackened.
Mr. West’s eyes lit up. Seizing the opportunity, he wriggled free and scrambled to his feet, crowing, “Ha! Looks like my little sleeping fragrance is working. Too bad for you, sweetheart—you’re mine now!”
Rebecca’s heart sank. That bastard had filled the room with knockout gas.
“Coward. You filthy pig!” she spat, but her body was growing heavier by the second, refusing to obey her.
Mr. West burst into laughter. “Call me what you like—sometimes a man’s gotta use a few tricks to spend the night with a beauty like you!”
He nursed his dislocated arm, grimacing in pain, but his eyes were wild with anticipation. He was determined to get revenge for the beating she’d just given him.



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