Chapter 20
Quintessa bolted to the bathroom in search of a bathrobe, but a glance in the mirror stopped her dead in her tracks. She cursed aloud, “Holy shit, you asshole!”
Her body was covered in love bites, scattered everywhere like a field of wildflowers in bloom, even on her back, her behind, and the top of her feet. Quintessa’s skin was fair, the kind that would redden at the slightest pinch and stay that way for a while. Now, with so many marks, who knew how long they’d take to fade.
But she didn’t feel violated. There was soreness, sure, but damn it, they were bite marks. Which meant that someone had nibbled her all over without actually taking a bite.
Quintessa clenched her teeth. That freaking pervert. Whoever did this had to be seriously twisted to engage in such a disgusting act.
She felt an itch at the root of her teeth as she went to look for her phone, only to find it gone. She growled, kicking the table in frustration. Her phone had been swiped.
Quintessa called the front desk and had them contact her friend Violet to bring her some. clothes.
After a half–hour wait, Violet finally arrived.
Barging in, Violet was already in a huff, “For heaven’s sake, Quintessa, what’s gotten into you? I’ve been calling you non–stop, and you didn’t pick up once.”
Wrapped in the hotel’s bathrobe, Quintessa caught the bundle of clothes thrown at her, “Someone took my phone.”
Violet caught sight of the marks on Quintessa’s neck and her face went pale with anger.
“Never mind the phone for now, what the hell happened last night? If you didn’t want to sleep with that Hans guy, you should’ve told me. No one forced you. But you, you just ditched Hans halfway through, and now you’ve screwed up the whole gig.”
Early in the morning, the producer of “Whispers in the Wind” had called Violet, complaining about their talent, Quintessa, vanishing without a word, leaving Hans quite miffed. They’d made it clear that Quintessa could forget about the supporting role, let alone being part of the production at all. All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.
Violet was seriously pissed at her.
While holding the clothes, Quintessa explained, “Last night, after I came out of the restroom, this guy told me to follow him, promising me the lead role in ‘Whispers in the Wind‘. So I went with him.”
She shrugged off the bathrobe in front of Violet, who gasped at the sight of Quintessa’s marked skin, “Jesus Christ, you believed that? Look at the mess you’re in now. You’ve been basically taken advantage of. You’ve run into a freak.”
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Quintessa didn’t catch Violet’s words, she just dressed and rubbed her face, saying, “I know who it was.”
Violet shot up, “Who?”
She was all set to go after the bastard. Quintessa smiled, feeling a touch of warmth in her heart. Though she and Violet used each other for their own ends, there was a genuine bond between them.
“It’s nothing, just an old acquaintance.”
Violet was astonished, “You said you were drunk. How do you know?”
Quintessa looked up at Violet, “That scent, I remember it.”
She recalled the taste of those lips from the night before, at the restroom door.
In fact, the moment she saw him standing there, Quintessa recognized him – she just didn’t want to admit that she could so vividly remember a man she hadn’t seen in three. years, that she could identify him without even seeing his face.
Violet was incredulous, “Damn, that’s some memory.”