The Paper Wife’s Empire novel Chapter 103

But before Jotham could get a closer look, someone suddenly grabbed his arm from behind.

“Mr. Holt, I knew you’d had too much to drink! The restroom’s over this way. Let me show you.”

It was one of his business partners coming out of the private room. The man had also needed to use the restroom, and seeing Jotham swaying on his feet, he quickly pulled him aside.

Jotham’s brow furrowed in annoyance. He cleared his throat, but before he could say a word, he glanced back—only to find that the figure he'd just seen at the end of the hallway had vanished.

Was he seeing things?

Or maybe, with Ramona on his mind day and night, he was starting to hallucinate?

But really, there was no way Ramona would ever be kissing another man. The only person she loved, completely and utterly, was him.

After Jotham left, Ramona, still in the shadows, blinked in confusion. “...Mr. Jordon, what’s wrong?”

Just a moment ago, Ethan had been kissing her, the sensation like a jolt of electricity running through her body. But without warning, he’d wrapped an arm around her waist and spun her into the blind spot around the corner.

At the end of the corridor, moonlight spilled through a window, and as they turned, it felt like the two of them were melting into darkness.

Ramona’s head pressed against Ethan’s warm palm, pinned gently to the corner. His tall frame leaned in, blocking her in. Their mingled scents swirled in the air between them.

With all the light gone, the sharp angles of his face seemed even more striking, and the chemistry between them was almost overwhelming.

“There was someone just now,” Ethan murmured, his gaze fixed on Ramona’s eyes.

In the darkness, her eyes seemed to glow, piercing straight into him. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed; his lips parted, but he clearly hadn’t gotten enough.

“So now... we’re alone, right?” Ramona’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

“Yeah.” Ethan leaned in again, his lips hovering near hers.

Time seemed to stop. The silence was thick, the air charged.

Ramona slowly closed her eyes, her hands curling around his narrow waist.

But before Ethan could go any further, Ramona’s phone suddenly rang.

A sliver of cold light broke through between them, snapping the spell and bringing Ramona back to herself.

Before Ethan could let go, she instinctively pushed him back and answered the call.

It was Florence, wondering why she’d been gone so long. Ramona was a little tipsy, and they were worried about her wandering off alone.

“...I’m fine, really. I’ll be back in a minute.” Ramona’s cheeks were flushed as she spoke, sneaking a quick glance at Ethan.

“Come on, Ethan, have a drink with me! Ramona’s already had plenty with us tonight. Your fiancée can really hold her liquor, so you can’t fall behind!” Sullivan said, passing Ethan a glass of wine.

“Uncle.”

Ethan hesitated. He’d driven himself tonight and hadn’t planned on drinking. But as he opened his mouth to refuse, the words stuck in his throat. He took the glass.

With Ramona standing beside him, he found it impossible to say no.

Ethan was about to go around and toast the elders, but Ramona’s hand stayed locked around his arm, as if she’d forgotten to let go.

Just as he raised the glass to his lips, Ramona’s delicate fingers closed over his.

“Sullivan, let me toast for Ethan. He’s just getting over a fever. It’s really not a good idea for him to drink.”

Hearing the gentle slur in her voice, Ethan pressed his lips together, feeling his heart soften into a puddle.

Ramona was definitely a little drunk—relaxed and acting almost on instinct, saying and doing whatever came to mind.

“Just getting over a fever? Then he really shouldn’t drink! That’s what I call a thoughtful fiancée! Ethan, you’re a lucky man. Don’t you dare let her down!” Sullivan’s words made Ramona’s face turn even redder.

She realized too late that maybe she’d been a little too presumptuous, stepping in for Ethan like that in front of his family. After all, it was his family, not hers...