Chapter 26 I'm Her Boyfriend
Eleanor returned to the private dining room after hanging up. Vincent's chair was empty; only Mr. Firth and his secretary were at the table.
"Where's Director Thompson?" She walked in, deliberately leaving the door ajar.
"Director Thompson stepped out to make a call. Didn't you see her?" Firth’s gaze roamed freely over her, his face spreading into a smile.
Post-drinks, her face glowed even more radiantly, especially her eyes, which were beguiling as ever, as if brimming with the essence of spring.
Resting his chin in one hand, Huang gestured to the seat next to him, "Why sit so far, Eleanor? Come, sit next to me."
"Director Thompson will be back any moment. I'll sit right here; thank you all the same, Mr. Firth." Eleanor settled in her original seat with polite restraint, careful not to offend.
Firth saw through Eleanor's cautious thoughts and swirled his glass with a chuckle.
He picked up the bottle from the table and sauntered over to her.
Eleanor tensed up as he plopped down beside her. When she made a move to get up, he swiftly grabbed her arm, pulling her back into her seat.
"Why the big reaction? What's wrong with having a drink?" Firth grumbled with dissatisfaction.
As he filled her glass, he casually rested his hand on the back of her chair. "You seem to handle your liquor quite well, Eleanor."
She shifted forward, dodging his hand that brushed her shoulder intentinally or not, and painted on a cordial smile. "You're the one with the impressive tolerance, Manager Huang. Actually, this should be my toast to you."
"Eh, wait—" Firth pressed down on her glass and leaned in close, his breath laden with alcohol, thick with an impending threat.
His face was flush from the booze, shining with a greasy glow. Even as he smiled, it twisted into something more menacing.
Unnoticed, his secretary had moved outside the room. The door that Eleanor had left deliberately ajar slammed shut from the outside.
Her heart clambered up to her throat.
It was just the two of them left in the room.
If Eleanor hadn't realized the gravity of the situation at this point, then all her years were lived in vain.
She tried to pull her hand back, but Firth gripped it firmly, and her glass crashed onto the table, spilling alcohol everywhere.
"Tsk, look at you, all jumpy. Here, let me help you clean that up." He was about to grope her thigh when Eleanor, with her free hand, blocked him and wrenched her hand back.
She reminded him, "ManMr. Firth, please show some respect."
To her surprise, he wasn't angry. Reflecting on what Vincent had said, he figured that Eleanor was playing hard to get.
If the young lady liked the game, he would indulge her—at least she was easy on the eyes.
Leering at her, he ogled her chest. "Name your terms."
Eleanor felt a wave of humiliation. "You seem to be misunderstanding me, Mr. Firth. I'm here strictly for business, not what you're insinuating."
Firth, still savoring the smooth touch of her skin, grinned maliciously. "But negotiating the terms is part of doing business, isn't it? That’s a principle you should understand."
Eleanor knew well that he was deliberately feigning ignorance, and she had no obligation to sacrifice her integrity for the company's benefit—she wasn't that noble.
If her company chose to punish or fire her over this, it was not an organization worth her loyalty.
She picked up her bag and spoke with a chilly detachment. "Since Mr. Firth has no interest in collaborating, I'll be sure to inform Director Thompson. I bid you farewell."
Firth watched her "performance" quietly. It must be said, the young lady's push-and-pull tactic was quite intriguing, and it stirred an itch inside him he found hard to ignore.
He decided to play along, rising to block her way. "Don't go, please. Let's discuss our cooperation. Sit down, can we talk this out?" he pleaded, reaching to grab Eleanor's hand.
Eleanor swiftly dodged, causing the inebriated man to stumble, his lower half awkwardly hitting the edge of the table in a rather delicate area!
The flush that had been on Huang's face darkened with the surge of pain, turning a deep shade of red almost to black. The agonizing pain blinded him momentarily and brought a wave of rage along with it.
"I showed you kindness!" he exclaimed as he smashed his glass to the ground and turned to grab a fistful of Eleanor's hair, yanking it fiercely.
Eleanor struggled fiercely, knocking dishes, bowls, and chairs onto the floor with a tremendous noise. However, the private room's door was closed, and there was no one nearby.
"You like playing the victim? Pretending to be pure when you're just out here selling yourself — think you're better than me?" Firth sneered as he kicked away a chair that was in the way and dragged Eleanor to the couch.
He started to tear at her clothes while pinching her body ruthlessly.
As the events unfolded in her mind one by one, Eleanor's eyes were bloodshot, her arms flailing wildly; she managed to scratch Huang's hand until he bled, letting out a hiss.
"Get away from me!" Her eyes, blood-shot and fierce, peered out from behind her tousled hair, and in that moment, Eleanor was like a wild animal cornered, ready to bite her opponent at any moment.
The intensity of her gaze unsettled Huang and threw him into a sudden panic.
Condemning himself inwardly for being intimidated by a woman, he decided he had to assert his dominance.
He tore off his jacket, lunging towards Eleanor without a second word. But before his lips could touch her face, the door to the private room was violently kicked open, and he bellowed, "Who the hell dares to—"
But before he could finish his sentence, a dark figure flashed before his eyes, and he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head!
The exquisite porcelain vase that had been placed by the door shattered with a loud crash.
"Eleanor!" Edward kicked Firth aside, rushed to her aid, and gave her a quick once-over. Other than her hair and clothes appearing slightly disheveled, there were no visible injuries. He breathed a sigh of relief.
Upon arriving, he had noticed someone in professional attire lingering by the door. He had asked if Eleanor was inside the private room, and although the person’s response was vague, he realized something was wrong upon hearing the commotion.
Thankfully, he had arrived in time.
"Are you okay?" Edward asked, supporting her to her feet.
Eleanor's knees felt weak; she seemed to have been drained of all strength, her lips quivering as she bit them, her complexion pale, her body trembling gently.
Edward's heart ached with an emotion he couldn't name as he said gently, "My apologies."
With those words, he lifted Eleanor horizontally into his arms, ready to leave the private room.
"Who the hell are you!"Firth blurted out, still unsteady from having climbed off the floor, blocked their path, fire in his eyes as he barked, "You're not gonna walk out of here today! You stand up for her without even asking who I am? Think you can handle the trouble you’re inviting?"
Edward tightened his embrace around Eleanor. "I'm her boyfriend," he said, steely calm. "If there’s a problem, it’s with me."
Eleanor froze in surprise.
In the corner of her eye, she saw a figure stride past the door. The hotel manager was on high alert, hustling just to keep up with Aaron's pace.
But the imposing man suddenly halted at the entrance of the room, towering like a glacier emanating a chilling presence. In that instant, the hotel manager felt the air turn icy and tense.