The Sovereign Club, Crestfall's den of extravagance, a paradise for men.
Nina Walsh stepped into the club. The dazzling gold decor, dizzying music, and her conservative outfit seemed completely out of place.
Jay Keane handed her a bag. "Miss Walsh, get changed. Mr. Sinclair will be here any moment."
In the restroom, Nina Walsh stared at the woman in the sexy minidress in the mirror, unable to even force a bitter smile.
The first public place Aiden Sinclair had ever taken her was, of all places, here—a venue for trading power and sex, where a man would never bring his legitimate wife.
When Nina Walsh came out of the restroom, Aiden Sinclair had already arrived at some point. He glanced up at her.
She had a slender figure. The tight black minidress outlined a waist so slim he could circle it with his hands. Her hair was swept to one side, revealing a budding rose on her left shoulder.
Only Aiden Sinclair knew that while Nina Walsh had a gentle and dignified face, her back was covered in a tattoo of roses, an alluringly bewitching sight.
Every time he was behind her, watching that canvas of floral vines flush pink because of him, he felt a special kind of satisfaction.
Aiden Sinclair praised her, "Beautiful."
His natural expression and sincere tone sent Nina Walsh into a momentary daze.
The next second, Aiden Sinclair grabbed her by the waist and whispered intimately in her ear, "You're going to meet my client. Be cooperative. If you do well, I might go easy on you for the theft."
Nina Walsh snapped out of her daze. 'I never learn,' she thought. 'To think I still held out hope for Aiden Sinclair.'
"I can't drink." 'Since I'm keeping the baby, I have to be responsible.'
Aiden Sinclair smirked, his expression devilish. "If you're going to beg a man in a place like this, you have to do it their way."
With that, Aiden Sinclair lowered his head and captured her red lips, plundering them as if he were possessed.
Nina Walsh's mind descended into chaos. When she closed her eyes, she could feel his passion, his possessiveness, but when she opened them, all she saw was his cold cruelty.
'What on earth does he want?'
A few minutes later, Aiden Sinclair released her, sated. Her lipstick was completely smeared.
Expressionless, he raised a hand and roughly wiped away the lipstick that had smudged beyond her lips, stroke by stroke.
"Good girl. Don't be melodramatic." His tone was filled with ridicule and indifference.
*Heh.* Despair filled Nina Walsh's eyes. 'He's toying with me again.'
...
People filed into the private room one after another. As the men entered, beautiful women followed, draping themselves over the men as if they had no bones.
Aiden Sinclair had one arm around Nina Walsh and the other resting on the back of the sofa. Dressed in a crisp, bespoke suit, his lazy posture was a stark contrast to the pot-bellied, middle-aged men beside him.
Nina Walsh felt sick. This was even more unnerving than their secret trysts in the car. The gazes that drifted toward her from the other men, intentionally or not, and even the women's stares, which shifted from coveting Aiden Sinclair to envying her, felt like a series of high-powered magnifying glasses trained on her, infinitely amplifying her humiliation.
Mr. Young, who had been chatting with Aiden Sinclair, poured him a glass of wine after stealing his seventh glance at Nina Walsh. "Mr. Sinclair, would you be willing to part with your lovely companion and introduce her to me?"
Nina Walsh immediately stiffened her back. "No."
Mr. Young's expression soured. Aiden Sinclair picked up the wine glass and held it in front of Nina Walsh. "You don't know the rules. It's your good fortune that Mr. Young has taken an interest in you."
Nina Walsh set her face to refuse, but a hand gripped her waist tightly. Aiden Sinclair forced the glass to her lips, and the cold liquor poured down her throat. It felt to Nina Walsh like swallowing a handful of razor blades that tore a path from her throat to her stomach.
Aiden Sinclair patted Nina Walsh's head and chuckled. "I've spoiled her. She's grown arrogant because of her looks. I hope you can forgive her, Mr. Young."
Mr. Young beamed. "A woman as beautiful as Miss Walsh deserves to be pampered by a man."
Aiden Sinclair patted Nina Walsh's shoulder again. "From now on, you listen to Mr. Young."
After speaking, he stood up to make room. Mr. Young immediately slid over. "Come, Miss Walsh, let's have a drink."
Nina Walsh had to push Mr. Young's glass away several times before it stayed down. When she looked up again, Aiden Sinclair was gone from the room.
Panic seized her. "I'm going to the restroom."
"You're drunk. I'll take you."
Nina Walsh shot up to flee, but Mr. Young was right behind her. There was nowhere to run. She could only watch helplessly as she was dragged into a car.
As the car exited the underground garage, Nina Walsh saw Aiden Sinclair's familiar Bugatti. The rear window was down, and he had a cigarette between his fingers.
She pounded on the car window, screaming Aiden Sinclair's name.
Aiden Sinclair's car paused for a moment. He glanced over, tossed the cigarette, and the window rose with unhurried smoothness.
The car sped away right before her eyes. Nina Walsh slumped against the window like a wooden puppet whose soul had been ripped out, utterly hopeless.
'How could Aiden Sinclair do this to her!'
Mr. Young gave her a faint glance and ordered the driver to go.
...
RUMBLE—
After a few claps of thunder, a torrential downpour began to fall in the dark night.
At Lividia Villa, Aiden Sinclair opened his computer and inserted Nina Walsh's USB drive into the port.
On the USB drive was a photo and an encrypted file.
The photo was the one of him and Nina Walsh used for their marriage certificate two years ago.
In the picture, Aiden Sinclair was stern and unsmiling, while Nina Walsh was smiling so wide her eyes had all but disappeared, yet it didn't stop her from being unreasonably beautiful.
"I'm this beautiful, so I must be very smart too. But because of you, I've forgotten everything now. My life is ruined, so you have to take full responsibility for me. You have to marry me!"
A car accident two years ago, caused by him, had sent Nina Walsh to the hospital. When she woke up, she remembered nothing and clung to him, demanding he take full responsibility.
Aiden Sinclair had casually proposed a two-year trial marriage, joking that if she passed the two-year "probation," he would give her a chance to become official.
He never expected her to agree without the slightest hesitation.
The entire reason their relationship began could be summed up in four words: lust at first sight.
Aiden Sinclair had also considered that if Nina Walsh had been obedient and sensible, perhaps he would have considered giving her a proper title when the time came.
Unfortunately, she just had to be restless.
Aiden Sinclair right-clicked the mouse, permanently deleted the photo, and then opened the now-decrypted file. Hidden inside were the several business documents he'd been looking for.
The surveillance footage, the encrypted file—the evidence was irrefutable.
It was an open-and-shut case: Nina Walsh had stolen his data.
Aiden Sinclair stared at the computer screen, silent for a long time.
Jay Keane asked, "Regarding Miss Walsh's theft of the data, should we still file a police report?"
Aiden Sinclair pulled out the USB drive and tossed it to Jay Keane. "File the case as planned."
Jay Keane secretly sized up his boss, a sense of awe welling up inside him.
Aiden Sinclair had founded the Aethel Group at eighteen and, in just six short years, had become the leader in his industry. He was a man of deep foresight and ruthless action, which was obvious just from how he had handled Nina Walsh these past few days. A woman who had been with him for two years, and he cast her aside without a second thought, squeezing out her last bit of value before discarding her without a shred of attachment.
Aiden Sinclair's phone vibrated on the desk. It was a call from Mr. Young.
"Mr. Sinclair, that woman jumped out of the car and ran off! She's like a madwoman. In this downpour, we can't find her at all," Mr. Young shouted over the phone.
Aiden Sinclair paused for a moment, his voice flat. "If she ran, she ran. I'll send you a few obedient ones some other day, Mr. Young."
...
The rain fell all night, only stopping at ten the next morning.
Nina Walsh pressed the doorbell at the gate of the Sheridan Family's estate.
She had run through the rain all night. Her sexy minidress was covered in mud, and her black hair was plastered messily to her scalp. She looked like a female ghost fished out of a lake.
The doorbell rang several times before a maid ran out. She froze for a few seconds upon seeing her.
"Eld... Eldest Miss?"