NovelEnglishChapter 482 But those eyes of his were so clear-like a college kid who'd just graduated, still untouched by the world.
Citrine looked him over, her tone cool and detached. "A college student?" "Yes, President Carmichael," Carney replied, pressing his lips together, a flicker of humiliation in his eyes.
He was used to being dragged along to these dinners by Danny Fuller. After enough of them, he'd learned firsthand how those in power loved to toy with young men straight out of college.
Citrine narrowed her eyes, giving him a thorough once-over. Then she asked, "You're strapped for cash?" Carney gritted his teeth. "Yeah. I'm desperate." "Cheers." Citrine paused for a moment, then suddenly raised her glass and tapped it lightly against his. She didn't wait to see if he'd drink-she downed her wine in one swift motion and set the glass aside. Carney stared at her, stunned.
He knew he was good-looking, had always known it. He'd grown up using that face to his advantage.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtHe had assumed President Carmichael would be like all the other executives he'd met at these events-flirtatious, bold, shameless. He'd half-expected her to grope his thigh under the table, or to slip a hotel key card or a wad of cash into his shirt pocket.
But President Carmichael did nothing of the sort. She hadn't even truly looked at him.
For a moment, Carney found himself doubting everything. Then he managed a self-deprecating smile.
Of course. President Carmichael was stunning herself; she could have her pick of handsome, capable men. With a snap of her fingers, she could have dozens lining up at her feet.
Why would she ever look twice at someone like him? But the thought of his crushing debts, of his parents trapped and threatened by loan sharks, made him straighten his spine and muster his courage. He forced himself to pour another drink for Citrine.
Seeing that the evening was going nowhere, Mr. Fuller grew anxious, shooting Carney increasingly desperate looks across the table.
Under that pressure, Carney steeled himself. He reached out his slender hand and covered Citrine's, his palm enveloping hers.
He leaned in close to her ear, voice low. "President Carmichael, would you liketo keep you company tonight? I promise I won't disappoint you." No sooner had the words left his lips than the door burst open.
Sebastian strode in.
A flustered waiter trailed behind, apologizing profusely to Mr. Fuller. "I'm so sorry, sir, but Mr. Vesper insisted on seeing you. I tried to stop him, but he just wouldn't listen-my apologies for the disturbance." Danny Fuller's face darkened. "How did you even find this place? Get out, now." But Sebastian didn't seem to hear him. He only had eyes for the girl sitting in the center of the room-his expression was thunderous.
There was a man beside her, leaning in to whisper something, their hands entwined on the table. From where Sebastian stood, they looked every bit like a couple.
A couple. The word tore through him.
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Carney hadn't expected anyone to burst in. Remembering what he'd just done, the tips of his ears flushed red and he froze, unsure of what to do. Citrine, on the other hand, never let her expression change-not from the start, not even now.
Under everyone's gaze, she calmly removed Carney's hand from hers.
Then she leaned in, whispering, "I have hands and feet. I don't need anyone to wait on me." Carney's face turned crimson, then pale.
If President Carmichael said no, he'd lose everything his parents his last chance to dear his debts. At that moment, Mr. Fuller shot Carney a frantic look, urging him on.
But before Carney could say a word, Citrine let out a cold laugh. "Mr.
Om Fuller, if you're having trouble with your eyes, you should get them checked. Wait too long, and you might go blind."
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