Chapter 170 One Last Time Together
When Renee’s call came in, Ryland didn’t hesitate. He shoved the man on top of him off with a sharp push.
“Sorry, babe, something urgent came up,” he said quickly, as he scrambled to his feet. “We’ll catch up another time.”
But the man, already half undressed, didn’t seem ready to let go.
He had been at Ryland’s beck and call for a while now and wasn’t about to be dismissed so easily.
“No way. Whatever it is, it can wait,” he demanded, holding Ryland down, refusing to back off. His desire clouded his judgment, and he ignored Ryland’s clear discomfort.
“Claude, stop! I said next time, and I meant it!” Ryland’s voice was sharp as he tried to push the man away. “This is serious! Move, now!”
Claude’s temper flared. His grip tightened around Ryland’s wrist, almost as
if he wanted to snap it in two.
“Ryland, who’s playing games here? You’re the one who started this, and every time you just disappear like nothing happened. It’s a joke to you,
isn’t it?”
“I’m not playing any game!” Ryland’s voice was steady, though his patience was wearing thin. “I told you, it’s urgent. Let go!”
“No, I won’t!” Claude wasn’t hearing it. His lips crashed against Ryland’s in a desperate, bruising kiss, one that left Ryland’s lips stinging. His kiss burned with intensity as he trailed his way down Ryland’s neck, his passion
making him reckless and blind to everything else.
Ryland’s eyes hardened. “Claude, you think this is funny?”
The words hit Claude like a ton of bricks. He pulled back, his gaze locked on Ryland’s cool, unflinching face.
Claude’s heart sank. From the start, it had always been him chasing after Ryland, always the one invested. But Ryland? He’d never cared.
With a bitter sigh, Claude gave one last plea.
“Let’s have one last night, Ryland. One last time together… and then, we never have to speak to each other again.”
“Didn’t you hear me? I have something important to do. Now move.” Ryland’s voice was like a blade, sharp and unforgiving. His gaze cut through Claude with the indifference one might have for a stranger who had overstepped their bounds..
Claude slammed his fist into the mattress in frustration. “Who is he, Ryland?
Tell me. You’re seeing someone else, aren’t you? Just say it so I can finally
move on.”
A sharp crack echoed through the room.
Ryland’s hand shot up and struck Claude across the face, the slap landing with a force that left no room for mercy.
Claude went rigid, stunned into silence as the sting of the slap burned
across his skin.
Ryland rolled his eyes at Claude, shoved him aside, and hurriedly got dressed. Without so much as a backward glance, he stormed out of the
room.
“Jesus. What a lunatic!” he muttered under his breath, still rattled as he strode down the hallway. Renee’s instructions echoed in his mind.
“Head to the third floor and find a way to figure out which room Shaun is in.
Be discreet–gather intel if you can, but if not, get out without raising suspicion. This is a matter of safety, so tread carefully.”
As Ryland stepped into the elevator, an unshakable unease crept over him.
Even though he had no clue why Renee needed this done, Ryland knew better than to question her. If Renee gave an order, he followed through.
The elevator doors slid open onto the third floor, revealing a sleek corridor lined with entertainment rooms. Each door had a staff member stationed outside, standing like quiet sentinels. Ryland took a steadying breath, squared his shoulders, and walked forward as if he belonged there.
Pretending to search for the right room, Ryland let his gaze drift over the doors, brow furrowed as if trying to jog his memory. Then, with just the right touch of hesitation, he turned to a nearby staff member and asked casually, “Hey, excuse me–Mr. Perez is supposed to be in this room, right? I think he said Room 315… but I’m not entirely sure.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but there’s no Mr. Perez in any of this room,” the staff member replied with a polite yet firm tone. “You might want to check
elsewhere.”
Ryland let out a frustrated sigh. “That’s strange… He’s not picking up his phone. He told me to bring something over ASAP, but I must’ve misheard the room number.” He paused, but then snapped his fingers as if a thought had just struck him. “Wait- he’s with someone. Mr. Doyle, I think? Do you
know which room he’s in?”
