Chapter 4 Lydia‘POV
It was that man!
I stared at the commanding words on my phone screen, so furious my teeth itched.
Why was everyone pushing me around?
Even an escort I'd paid had the nerve to threaten me like this.
Looking at the Levitt family's invitation, I couldn't help but wonder.
He was just an escort — how could he possibly have this kind of pull, enough to get his hands on a Levitt family invitation?
Could it be that he had other clients within the Levitt family?
I recalled a news story I'd read before. The Levitt family had laid their foundation a hundred years ago, climbing step by step to the all-powerful position they held today.
A family like that was bound to have plenty of secrets buried beneath the surface.
I'd even heard people say that the mistress of the Levitt household liked to play around outside — maybe she was one of that escort's clients.
My mind was racing.
I didn't think running into that man at a charity dinner was going to be anything good.
But the photos were in his hands. I had no right to refuse, and no choice but to go.
The Levitt family charity dinner.
A gathering of the elite.
People from both the political and business worlds had turned out in full force, and the atmosphere was grand.
The performer on stage was the hottest jazz singer of the moment.
I wore a champagne-colored gown, standing beside my father and Marlo, playing the part of a composed and proper daughter.
But my eyes were scanning the room, hoping to locate that escort as quickly as possible and keep him from causing a scene.
Ivor was dressed in a deep emerald velvet suit, and with the perfect air of a gentleman, he took Marlo's hand and pressed a kiss to it.
"Mrs. Marlo, Mr. Hector — delightful to see you." The corner of his lips curved upward, and he cast me a provocative glance, as if showing off what he was capable of.
Hector and Marlo both broke into smiles the moment they saw him, and they didn't forget to shoot me a warning look either.
I lost interest immediately. I grabbed a glass of champagne, found myself a corner, and went back to searching for the escort.
That was when Ivor's mistress came clicking over to me on her high heels, unhurried and self-assured.
"Miss Lydia, what a coincidence."
Ivor actually brought this woman to an event like this?!
I glanced at her, my gaze dropping to her sky-high heels. "Since you're pregnant, you might want to be more careful."
I'd only meant it as a friendly reminder, but the woman let out a cold sneer as she looked at me.
"Hmph. Don't think that just because you're marrying Ivor through family connections, he'll ever love you. In his heart, I'm the one who matters most. Always."
I was speechless. Whether Ivor cared about her or not was none of my concern.
But wasn't this woman's hostility toward me a little excessive?
The woman's gaze turned dark and menacing, a vicious gleam flashing in her eyes. "Lydia, you should have disappeared a long time ago. If it weren't for you, Ivor and I would already be married. A woman like you doesn't deserve to be anywhere near him!"
I frowned, irritation creeping into my voice. "Whether I deserve it or not isn't for you to decide. If you've got what it takes, then get him to call off the engagement."
I felt a wave of frustration wash over me. It wasn't like I wanted to marry Ivor — so what was this woman coming to me for?
The woman's features twisted together, and she suddenly lunged forward and shoved me. "Lydia, just die already! If you're dead, you won't be standing in our way!"
Right behind me was the garden pool, its surface shimmering with rippling reflections.
I was about to topple straight into it. I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself.
Just as I was certain I was about to end up soaking wet and utterly humiliated, a pair of broad, steady hands caught me around the waist, and an overwhelming, forceful presence closed in around me from all sides.
I opened my eyes. The person in front of me — who else could it be but the escort I'd been looking for all evening?
The woman across from us froze the moment she saw him, her pupils shrinking sharply.
The man stepped in front of me, shielding me, and fixed the woman with an ice-cold stare. "If you're going to try to hurt someone, at least have the sense to do it out of sight. This is not the place for you to act out."
The woman's eyes filled with fear. She lowered her head, visibly trembling.
I stared at the man's back, my breath coming fast, my heart lurching up and down.
How did he dare show his face at a place like this?
Ivor's mistress was in a panic — likely terrified of someone finding out she was his mistress.
She turned and hurried away.
I let out a breath of relief, but the moment the man turned to meet my eyes, the tension I'd just released came rushing right back.
"What do you think you're doing? My fiancé is right here!"
Afraid Ivor would spot him, I grabbed the man by the sleeve and started pulling him away.
"Come with me first. Whatever you need to say, we can talk about it later."
The man looked down at me with an air of lazy amusement. "How much later? How do I know you're not just trying to trick me?"
My eyes kept darting toward the center of the banquet hall, my palms damp with sweat.
The feeling — like I was sneaking around in an affair — gnawed at me relentlessly.
The man suddenly leaned in close, a sharp, cool scent of sandalwood washing over me. "So afraid of your fiancé catching you? If we did it right here in the garden, I wonder — would you be so nervous you'd squeeze even tighter?"
His filthy words sent heat blazing across my cheeks. I shoved him away immediately.
Ivor was already starting to look around the room inside. Knowing I couldn't stay a second longer, I grabbed the escort's hand and made for the second floor.
The room was draped in heavy curtains, with only a faint sliver of moonlight filtering through from outside.
I had just reached for the light switch when the escort caught my wrist and pressed it hard against the wall.
My breath hitched. "What are you doing?"
The corner of the man's mouth curled into a wicked smile. He gripped my chin and tilted my face up to meet his gaze.
His voice was cool and clear, his entire presence radiating a commanding force that was impossible to ignore. "What do you think? I'm going to fuck you."
He was out of his mind.
This was the second floor of the venue — someone could walk in at any moment.
Were escorts this bold these days?
"No — let go of me. I don't want to right now." I pressed hard against his solid chest, but he didn't budge, as immovable as a mountain.
His slender, defined fingers slipped between my legs, and then came his teasing laugh. "You're already this wet, and you're still saying you don't want to?"
Embarrassment flooded through me, my face burning as red as a ripe tomato.
In the moonlight, I lifted my head and met his gaze. "I'll do it with you one more time — but you have to promise me you'll delete the photos. No copies kept."
The man's hand traced along my inner thigh, sending an involuntary shiver through me.
His voice dropped to something like a devil's whisper. "Do you really think you're in any position to negotiate with me right now?"
He had me locked against him, and as I glanced down, I noticed something — pinned to his chest was a brooch in the shape of a purple-gold flower. The symbol of the Levitt family.
That was impossible.
How could he have a brooch like that?
The Levitt family's brooches were never given to outsiders — let alone to someone who was just an escort.
I stared at him, completely stunned. "How do you have that brooch?!"
