Chapter 70 He Is Doomed
Marcel wrapped an arm around Rosa, pulling her tightly against him, his fingers greedily exploring for a while before he finally deigned to respond to Renee. “I understand your sincerity, Miss Larson, truly, but my boss is a busy man. It’s not that I don’t want to take you to him…”
“Oh?” Renee’s gaze turned glacial, her lips curling in disdain. Lifting her eyes, she caught sight of Marcel’s hand already slipping beneath Rosa’s shirt.
Tears welled up in Rosa’s eyes as she wriggled desperately, her resistance only fueling Marcel’s twisted amusement.
“Sir, please… don’t… Please!” Rosa cried, panic creeping into her voice as she turned desperately to Renee for help.
Renee let out an exasperated scoff before she pushed to her feet. The cigarette between her lips smoldered as she strode forward, gripping Rosa’s wrist and yanking her free from Marcel’s grasp with an effortless tug.
Freed from his grasp, Rosa hastily adjusted her clothes, her hands trembling. Tears streaked down her pretty face, making her look every bit the helpless, wronged damsel
in distress.
Renee, however, was far from sympathetic. She blew out a stream of smoke, grabbed Rosa’s chin with rough indifference, and wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. “Mr. Glyn,” she drawled, her tone edged with mockery, “it seems your sincerity doesn’t quite match mine. Since that’s the case, I see no reason to continue this little cooperation.”
Then, turning to Rosa, she arched a brow. “Say goodbye to Mr. Glyn.” Rosa pouted, clearly aggrieved, but under Renee’s sharp gaze, she had no choice but to lower her head and whisper obediently, “Goodbye, Mr. Glyn…”
Marcel leaned back lazily, flashing a sly grin. “Miss Larson, don’t be so worked up. You just got here, and we haven’t even started talking.”
Renee cocked her head, intrigued. “Oh? And when do you propose we start?”
Marcel’s eyes lingered on Rosa, still hungry for more. The brief taste he had gotten
wasn’t enough, and while she wasn’t the most stunning woman he’d ever laid hands on, her soft curves and smooth skin made her a tempting morsel. It was a pity he couldn’t. indulge further not if he wanted to keep Renee from turning this deal to dust. For now,
he had to rein himself in.
“Miss Larson, you know I’d never make things difficult for you. We’ve been partners for a long time, and I consider you a friend. My boss really isn’t in town-he went up to the mountains yesterday. Otherwise, I would’ve taken you straight to him.”
Renee nodded, expression unreadable. Without a word, she guided Rosa behind her, and then strode to the table, picking up two glasses and filling them to the brim. With a practiced hand, she slid one toward Marcel and lifted the other in a toast.
With a lively, confident tone, she said, “Mr. Glyn, let’s drink to a successful partnership!”
Marcel chuckled, thinking nothing of it. He grabbed his glass and knocked back the liquor in one swift gulp. But just as he set the empty glass down and reached for Rosa again, Renee took hold of Rosa’s hand, pulling her toward the door. “Make sure Mr. Glyn
is well taken care of!” she tossed over her shoulder.
Her words sent a ripple of confusion through the room. Marcel’s men exchanged wary glances after all, they were the only ones here. Who, exactly, was she talking to?
Suddenly, the door to the private room burst open with a violent kick, slamming against the wall. A group of armed officers stormed in, weapons raised, their eyes scanning the room with deadly intent.
“Don’t move!” one of the officers barked. “Get down! Hands over your heads!”
Marcel and his men were so stunned that they froze, their minds going blank. With no other choice, they slowly complied, raising their hands in surrender. As Marcel cautiously sneaked a glance upward, his breath hitched. Amid the chaos, Renee was calmly leading Rosa out of the room, her stride effortless, exuding confidence. The dim light flickered against her face, highlighting the cigarette still dangling from her lips.
“Damn it! You bitch! You’re a cop?!” Marcel spat, his face contorted with rage as
realization struck.
Before Marcel could say another word, a sharp kick landed against his shin, sending a jolt of pain up his leg. “Shut up,” the officer growled, his tone low and threatening.
The leading officer straightened, his expression cold and authoritative. “Take them all away,” he ordered. “Team Alpha, bring them back to the station. Team Beta, follow me into the Lion Mountain.”
Marcel’s face drained of color in an instant. A cold chill crept up his spine as the weight of the situation settled in-he was doomed. There was no talking his way out of
this.
