Chapter 23: Tattoo
Fletcher arrived with Duke.
In fact, as soon as that group of rich young men started gossiping about Fletcher, I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease in my chest. Myslana’s social circles are small, and since they all belong to the investment world, it was no surprise they’d be gathered together. However, today of all days, I ran into them–especially while I was complaining about him.
I felt a twinge of awkwardness, but then I remembered that Fletcher and I had discussed bringing in new investments, so I quickly regained my composure.
However, that sense of composure started to crack when Fletcher sat beside me, holding a
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glass of wine.
His proximity, neither too close nor too far, felt strangely unsettling. His expression was calm, betraying no emotion, but the sharp scent of his cologne relentlessly invaded my senses, making me uneasy. I gripped my glass tighter and subtly glanced at Kaitlyn.
Fletcher finally spoke, his voice low and steady. “Please, Ms. Grande, enlighten me. How exactly am I ‘not doing a good job“?”
His tone was courteous, but the slight hint of mockery in his gaze was unmistakable. His status alone silenced the others in the group. These heirs were experts at reading the room.
In an instant, the lively atmosphere shifted, and the air thickened with tension. All were on me, the pressure mounting with
eyes
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every second.
I couldn’t help but feel that Fletcher was deliberately trying to make me embarrassed. I pressed my palm against the glass, steadying myself, and replied honestly, “If we’re being honest, it’s probably because Mr. Lynton is too stingy.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, Fletcher’s brow twitched, and I could almost feel the amusement from the people around us, their faces struggling to suppress smiles, waiting for Fletcher’s reaction.
He swirled his wine glass, eyes narrowing as he asked, “You think it’s not enough?”
I couldn’t exactly tell everyone that Fletcher had invested five million in us just because of Davina. That would be like shouting from the rooftops that Fletcher was acting like a
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fool over her, wouldn’t it?
I decided to run with it, exaggerating, “Oh, of course. When Mr. Rogers makes a move, he’s talking in terms of one hundred million.”
Fletcher’s hand froze as he twirled his wine glass, a small laugh escaping his lips.
Just then, Kaitlyn came to my rescue. “Lena, I can’t agree with that. Mr. Lynton’s five million came when we were at our lowest point–he was a lifeline, the money was small, but the gesture meant everything.”
Leon raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Lynton, are you not going to explain yourself?”
Fletcher took a sip of his wine, his movements slow and deliberate. “Every project has its own evaluation criteria.”
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I nearly laughed out loud.
Fletcher’s evaluation criteria? Probably just Davina, I thought.
“If I’m not mistaken, both Mr. Lynton and Ms. Grande graduated from Raven University, right?” Leon seemed to have opened a new topic, “Did you two never cross paths there?”
I took a sip of my drink and replied, “Not really. We weren’t familiar.”
The moment the words left my mouth, I could feel the air beside me grow even colder.
But wait, wasn’t it his specialty to downplay our past interactions in front of others? Why did it seem like he wasn’t happy about it this time?
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Kaitlyn quickly caught on to the change in atmosphere and laughed. “Exactly, with someone as important as Mr. Lynton, if we’d known him earlier, we would have clung to his side, wouldn’t we?”
That was a well–timed save.
The conversation naturally shifted away from my complaint about the investor, and the chatter moved on to other things.
When I looked out the window, I noticed the yellowing leaves were now soaked with rain. It had started raining.
“The roads are slippery. If no one minds, we can stay here for the night, Leon suggested, ever the considerate host. It was already late, and he made sure each of us had a room arranged.
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After the gathering ended, Kaitlyn and I made our way back to our rooms. Not long after, my phone rang unexpectedly.
It was Fletcher.
I guessed he was calling to give me a piece of his mind. After an entire afternoon of forced smiles and intense socializing, I was drained, so I decided to ignore the call.
Moments later, the call ended, but my WhatsApp notification chimed. A simple three–word message popped up: Open the door.
I jolted upright, heart racing. I crept over to the door and peeked through the peephole. Sure enough, Fletcher’s sharp, handsome face stared back.
Realizing we were on Leon’s turf, surrounded
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by other people, I reluctantly cracked the door open just a sliver.
Hearing the sound, Fletcher lifted his gaze. When our eyes met, he casually slid his foot into the gap, almost as if he were certain I would try to shut the door right away.
“What’s this about?” I asked awkwardly.
Strangely, an unfamiliar feeling of unease washed over me, almost as if I were caught in some kind of illicit moment.
Fletcher stared at me, his gaze icy, and asked, “Charlene, are we not familiar with each other?”
I didn’t want to argue with him.
Out of courtesy, we were both guests in Leon’s club tonight, and it wouldn’t be right
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to cause any friction here.
On a more practical note, he was our investor, and it wouldn’t be wise to make an enemy of him before our new funding came through.
I said in a low voice, “It’s too late. Can we talk tomorrow?”
Fletcher snorted coldly, half of his body already slipping inside.
I pushed against the door, refusing to let him in.
Just then, Kaitlyn’s voice suddenly rang out from the hallway, “Which room is Lena staying in?”
A wave of panic rushed through me, and my grip on the door weakened. That gave
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Fletcher just the opportunity he needed.
He managed to slip in.
Frustrated, I looked up at the man before me and asked, “Mr. Lynton, do you think this is appropriate?”
Fletcher didn’t answer. He just frowned, irritably tugging at his tie.
That was unusual.
Outside the door, Kaitlyn’s voice grew louder, “Lena, are you asleep?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, forcing myself to focus, and motioned with my eyes for Fletcher to hide behind the door.
Just as my fingers were about to grasp the handle, Fletcher’s hand shot out, perfectly
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covering mine.
His sleeve rolled up, revealing his strong arm, and his palm was oddly warm against mine.
“Lena.” His deep voice came softly, almost a whisper, “Are we not familiar with each other?”
I felt like he was losing his mind.
Was Fletcher really not afraid of making a scene?
Frustrated, I met his gaze but didn’t speak.
In the silence, I suddenly felt my waist. tighten, and Fletcher pulled me into his arms.
Through the thin fabric, I could distinctly feel his solid arm across my waist, rigid and unyielding.
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I struggled, but my steps faltered, and I couldn’t steady myself.
Fletcher leaned in, his eyes locking with mine, as if possessed by something, and asked again, “Are we not familiar with each other?”
His breath, warm against my nose, mixed with the heavy scent of alcohol, sprayed across my face.
I turned my face away, feeling a sudden heat spread across my skin, but Fletcher cupped my face in his hands.
“Answer me.”
“We aren’t familiar,” I snapped, my anger flaring as I ground my teeth. “Fletcher, we-”
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His kiss silenced me before I could finish my sentence.
I tried to push him away, but he pinned my hands above my head, holding them firmly in place.
His kiss came fiercely, as though it were a force I couldn’t escape, his face both real and surreal, domineering in a way that made me feel helpless.
In the dream, Fletcher gently bit the tattoo on my skin, just like he used to, calling my name, “Lena” over and over again.
Alcohol was definitely not a good thing.
The blaring ringtone yanked me from the dreamlike haze.
I opened my eyes, taking in the unfamiliar
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surroundings, and in an instant, I was fully awake.
But once awake, I found myself trapped in a sea of helplessness.
The red marks were unmistakable.
On the other end of the line, Kaitlyn’s excited voice rang out, “Lena, great news–Fletcher’s decided to invest another five million!”
Add another five million.
I was stunned.
The vivid images from my dream still clung to my mind, and I couldn’t bring myself to smile.
Dragging my exhausted legs into the bathroom, the steam from the shower
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thickened the air, and I clearly saw the dark bruise on my chest.
Right where the tattoo was.
Faded letters barely visible, but I could still make out an English phrase:
I will always love you, Letch.
The word “love” had nearly faded away, worn down by time, like the sharp claws of the years mocking my foolishness.
So, Fletcher, was this your form of
compensation?
Kaitlyn and I were both late.
Although Leon wasn’t particularly interested, at least there was investment.
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We had secured funding, which also solved
the ongoldache
of Kaitlyn’s marketing
expenses.
She eagerly planned a team outing and was preparing to announce the good news to
everyone.
But Davina must’ve caught wind of it somehow. During lunch break, she suddenly appeared in front of me and asked, “Charlene, I heard we’ve secured another investment. Is that true?”
She didn’t mention Fletcher.
It seemed like she hadn’t been told about the additional funding by Fletcher yet.
“Ms. Hayes will announce it soon,” I replied, not wanting to get involved in their matters. “Just wait a little longer.”
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A flicker of disappointment crossed Davina’s eyes. “Oh, I see.”
I didn’t want her to think too much about it, so I added, “It’ll be announced in the next few days”
Davina
Press further.
Just as I thought the conversation was over, her large, round eyes inexplicably landed on my neck, her expression freezing.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, confused.
“Nothing,” Davina stammered, “Charlene… you… you go ahead with your business.””
She seemed flustered.
It was so unlike her.
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It wasn’t until an hour later, when I went to Kaitlyn’s office to discuss work, that I understood the reason.
Kaitlyn told me there was a deep red mark on the back of my neck.
It looked like a hickey.
I
My chest tightened in shock, and I couldn’t help but rub my forehead in frustration.
I figured Davina must have seen it too.
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