Chapter 731 Elliot is Jealous!
Elliot had something in his mind, but not a flicker of it showed on his face. A few seconds later, he even looked away.
Celine, on the other hand, greeted him with a respectful, "Mr. Windsor."
Only then did Elliot give a small nod, carrying himself with that quiet air of privilege that spoke volumes about his place in the world.
When he stepped out, the elevator was left with just Celine and Molly. Celine couldn't hold back a mutter. "He acts like he's God's gift. Is he like that in private too?"
Behind her sunglasses, Molly's eyes were still red. Celine couldn't see that. Molly's voice was low, "Not in private. And definitely not before."
Celine studied her for a long moment.
Finally, she said, more serious now, "Molly, I know you care about him. You two had something intense, something unforgettable. But look at how he treats you now. I don't want you bending yourself out of shape for him. If it's too much, maybe it's better to walk away."
Molly gave a quiet hum. "I know, Celine."
But Celine knew she couldn't let him go. And she could understand why. Elliot had the kind of looks that turned heads, the wealth and status to match, and he was still young—what, twenty-four? Worth over a hundred billion. With all that, what woman wouldn't be dazzled?
A few minutes later, they arrived at M&E Technology's advertising department.
The male celebrity's agent was already there, but the star himself hadn't bothered to show. His absence was a clear statement—he thought himself above Molly.
Celine didn't take it personally. In the entertainment world, no one stayed on top forever.
When it came time to sign, M&E Technology coordinated the schedules of both male and female brand ambassadors. Only after confirming no conflicts did they move forward. Celine had quietly learned that the male star's fee was six million dollars—two million less than Molly's. Of course, his agent didn't know that.
Celine was pleased. Once the ad was shot, she'd make sure to announce Molly's raised market value.
The male star's agent, meanwhile, was already plotting to undercut her.
Two agents, two different agendas.
Just as Molly was about to sign, the advertising manager, Mason, spoke up with a note of surprise. "Mr. Windsor, what brings you here?"
Elliot had come alone.
When he stepped into the small conference room, his gaze swept the space before he asked, his voice cool, "Where's the male lead?"
Blake Wright—that was his name—had been riding high these past two years thanks to a hit mystery TV series. He was secure enough in his position to skip today's signing. He'd never expected the CEO himself to show up.
Blake's agent regretted the decision instantly but smoothed things over with practiced charm.
Elliot barely cared. He was here for one reason—Molly.
He idly flipped through the contract. It contained Blake's profile and the ad's script. His expression shifted, darkening.
Blake was better-looking than he'd expected—not that it mattered. The industry was full of good-looking men. What mattered was that the ad included a kissing scene.
Elliot's long forefinger tapped the page before he frowned at Mason. "We're a tech company. Our endorsements are for tech products. Is a kiss really necessary?"
Mason, unaware of the history between Elliot and Molly, answered honestly. "Mr. Windsor, since Blake and Molly are endorsing home appliances, they're playing newlyweds. Some intimacy is expected. But rest assured, we'll use the most professional team. It'll be tasteful, nothing vulgar."
Elliot still wasn't satisfied. "An embrace will do. No kissing. And keep it to settings like a living room sofa. Bedroom scenes invite the wrong kind of speculation. Not appropriate."
Mason thought privately, 'Mr. Windsor, you're supposed to be the face of the new era. And here you are, sounding like an old-fashioned prude.'
But he didn't dare say it. He was a veteran in the corporate world, and now he saw it—Elliot's gaze kept drifting toward Molly. That was it. Elliot wanted her.
Mason quickly promised to personally oversee the script, then asked if there was anything else to change.
Elliot's tone was cool. "No. Go ahead with the signing."
With that, he left.
Once he was gone, both Mason and Blake's agent looked at Molly differently. Especially Mason, who remarked casually while reprinting the contract, "Mr. Windsor's never had a woman at his side before. You're the first, Ms. Lavien."
Molly's reply was soft. "Mr. Windsor and I just knew each other in the past."
Blake's agent sighed. "Even meeting him once is enough to open doors."
She'd seen it clearly—Molly was Elliot's woman. The possessiveness he'd shown was pure jealousy. She'd have to warn Blake to keep things professional. No rumors, or his career could take a hit.
Just then, Molly's phone chimed.
She glanced at the screen. A message from Elliot: [Wait for me at the hotel later.]
She stared at the words. Simple, but the imbalance between them was written in every letter. She wasn't angry. She simply replied, *Okay.*
Across town, Elliot leaned back in his chair, swiveling slightly. When her reply came, a faint smile touched his lips.
8 p.m.
In the suite of a five-star hotel, Elliot had been waiting for two hours.
Molly was late.
When she finally swiped the keycard, the room was dark, shadows swallowing the space. The faint scent of clean skin lingered—he'd just showered.
She didn't turn on the lights. Guided by the dim glow from the city outside, she made her way toward the bed. But before she could reach it, a strong hand caught her wrist. In a sudden pull, the world spun, and she landed on the soft mattress beneath the heat of his body.
"Elliot."
Her voice trembled.
He was urgent, rough. She could barely keep up with the force of a man who'd been holding back for too long. Soon her hoarse protests dissolved into breathless sounds, swallowed by the rush of need between them.
The night outside was still. Inside, shadows merged into one.
It was close to dawn when Elliot finally let go, breathing out in satisfaction. Looking down at her—disheveled, undone—his voice was low and rough, "Shall I have the waiter bring you some dinner before I take you back?"
She was still dazed.
His hand slid under the blanket again. Molly's voice was barely a whisper. "No… don't. I brought seafood soup. I made it myself."
The light clicked on.
Elliot's gaze locked on her face. "So you kept me waiting just to make this?"
Afraid he'd be angry, she wrapped her arms around his neck and murmured, "I can still keep you company."
Bold. Reckless.
His eyes narrowed. What he said next was anything but gentle. "Four times and you're still not satisfied? Tell me, was I serving you, or were you serving me? Looked to me like you were enjoying yourself."
Molly let go immediately, worried he'd think her some insatiable woman.
He gave her one last lingering look before heading toward the bathroom. "I'll try it later. Didn't you used to not know how to cook?"
"I learned in the past two years," she said softly.
He nodded. "Learning to cook now? Get to a man through his stomach, then keep him hooked? Makes sense. With your celebrity status, you're no longer that disgraceful con artist. You could marry well now."
He disappeared into the bathroom.
Molly sat half-kneeling on the bed, her face pale.
She knew Celine was right. Elliot wasn't the same with her anymore. If she were smart, she'd play along until it ended, then move on with her life. But she couldn't imagine a life without Elliot.
Fifteen minutes later, he came out, towel in hand, hair damp.
From the small dining area came the scent of food—warm, inviting.
He tossed the towel aside and walked over.
And then he stopped.
Molly stood there in a floral dress, hair loosely tied back, her face luminous under the light. She looked… like home.
He'd imagined this scene a thousand times—what she'd look like as his wife.
Exactly like this.
The impact hit him square in the chest, sharp enough to hurt.
His voice was rough when he finally spoke, "Who told you to dress like that?"
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