The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 146

A knot formed in Penelope’s stomach as she slowly shuffled toward him.

“Mr. Stapleton, what a coincidence seeing you here.”

“Here? Where is that, exactly?” Theodore arched an eyebrow.

“This lounge…”

He scoffed.

“I was hungry, so I came to get something to eat.”

“You came all the way to a members-only lounge just to eat?”

“Their truffle risotto is amazing. It’s my favorite.”

Theodore took her hand and led her inside, settling her into a private booth. He flagged down a waiter and ordered a bowl of truffle risotto.

“Wait here for me.”

“But I eat fast…”

“Then eat slower. One grain at a time. When I get back, you can tell me how many grains were in the bowl.”

“…”

What a psycho, she thought.

Theodore let out a soft snort and left the booth.

The risotto arrived quickly, its aroma tempting, but Penelope couldn’t resist flagging down the waiter again and ordering a shot of whiskey.

When Theodore finished his meeting and returned, he found her slumped over the table, her eyes filled with tears as she stared at the glass of amber liquid.

He chuckled softly as he approached. “That desperate for a drink?”

Hearing his voice, Penelope quickly looked up, but the tears she’d been holding back finally spilled over. “No, I’m not. I don’t want to drink at all…”

“Then why are you crying?”

“I…”

She was crying for the six beautiful years of her youth wasted on a man as hypocritical, selfish, and vile as Zebulon. She was full of regret and resentment, and all she wanted was a drink to drown her sorrows, but she couldn’t. It made her feel so pathetic.

He held her tighter, his kiss deepening as their breaths mingled with the lingering taste of alcohol. Penelope’s initial protests were quickly forgotten. She wrapped her arms around his neck, returning his kiss with an urgency that matched his own, wanting more.

Sometime during the kiss, she found herself fully seated in his lap, her body moving in sync with his. She was completely lost in the moment, clinging to him as if he were her salvation.

Her hair was a mess, her clothes were disheveled, and the kiss was anything but innocent.

“Is that enough?” he asked, his voice thick and his breath ragged.

She nibbled on his lower lip, her own voice hazy. “Not even close.”

And so he gave her more, a dizzying onslaught that was far more intoxicating than any drink.

Later, Theodore took her back to his place, a modern, standalone villa in an upscale downtown neighborhood. The three-story house was a testament to his personality. The ground floor was a garage filled with cars and display cases of intricate models. The second floor was a sprawling leisure area with a library, a small bar, a gym, and a large terrace featuring a swimming pool and a glass conservatory. The third floor was the living space, which consisted of a single master bedroom, a kitchen, and a dining area, leaving a vast, empty expanse of open space.

After a quick tour, Penelope sat down at the dining table. A moment later, Theodore placed a steaming bowl of a dark, bitter tonic in front of her.

“Drink up.”

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