Chapter 820

Otis surveyed Joyce's gorgeous face at the moment as he took a box

of cigars out of his pocket and pulled one out.

Eugene caught a glimpse of it and immediately stepped forward to light

the cigar for him.

The dimly lit box was dark.

The little scarlet flame jumped between Otis’ fingers.

He closed his eyes and took a sharp breath.

He looked pretty satisfied.

The lingering smoke was exhaled slowly from his mouth, and

eventually, he blew a wisp of smoke towards Joyce.

Joyce subconsciously averted her face. The smell of the cigar was too

strong, she "coughed" twice and was almost choked by the smoke.

"Ms. Knowles wants sincerity, and I'll show you." He smiled sinisterly,

with a touch of hostility.

Such a smile was even a little creepy.

Joyce felt a chill down her spine. What did he want? He sounded a bit

unusual.

“I heard that Ms. Knowles was attacked last night after the dinner

party? Have you found out who did it?" He took another puff of his cigar

and spoke slowly.

“Not a big deal really. The problem had been solved, and no need for

Mr. Robertson to worry about it." Joyce frowned.

She did not want to make things more complicated. There was no need

to get more people involved in these matters.

"Huh. How dared him touch my woman?" A hint of bloodthirsty cruelty

appeared in his eyes.

"Mr. Robertson, please watch your language.” Joyce frowned. His

woman? Not even in his dream!

"Huh. Want to give it a try?" Otis, who had been sitting on the couch,

suddenly stood up at that moment and walked over to her. He handed

her the lit cigar in his hand.

"How about trying my flavor?" He wickedly moved closer to her and

puffed a cloud of fog next to her.

The strong smell of the smoke made her extremely uncomfortable.

She could understand what he meant with his flirty words.

She frowned deeply. She took the cigar from his hand and pressed it

directly into the ashtray, twisting it a few times until the flame went out.

She replied also with a pun, "Mr. Robertson, if you keep playing with

fire like that, you may easily set off a fire alarm. It's better to put it out.”

She smiled casually in front of his gloomy, appalling face, “That's it for

tonight then. See you next time, Mr. Robertson."

As she was about to turn around, Otis suddenly wrapped his arm

around her shoulders and made his first transgression of the night.

"Ms. Knowles, you're not giving me face. You don't even have a glass

of wine and you are leaving already.” Otis pointed to the glass of red

wine on the table. She had not had a single sip of it the whole time.

Joyce's gaze fell on the glass. The scarlet liquid refracted a mysterious

luster rendered by the light.

This was what Eugene poured for her earlier.

She always felt that there seemed to be something wrong with the

wine.

She didn't throw away Otis' hand on her shoulders, and she kept

thinking about what to do next.

It would not be wise to offend Otis too much.

But what if there was really something wrong with the wine?

It's a hard choice.

“You just got a contract and you are not even drinking a celebratory

drink with me. Ms. Knowles, it certainly doesn't make sense. Without

this drink, tonight, you won't walk out of this door either."

Otis was almost forcing her this time. He picked up the glass, handed it

to her, and whispered coldly into her ears.