novelraw Chapter 397: The two were disheveled as they embraced each other
Chapter 397: The two were disheveled as they embraced each other
Ignatius Leclair held her tightly, exhaling heavily, "It’s over now."
The person in his arms was trembling violently. The man, feeling a surge of irritation, yanked off his tie and barked at Maximilian, "Drag him out. Make sure he doesn’t die."
Maximilian hastily dragged the person out.
The fragrance in the air grew increasingly intense. Combined with the dim lighting, Ignatius felt his entire body burning up. His phoenix-like eyes suddenly darkened as he realized the scent carried an aphrodisiac effect. The person in his arms, already losing her sense of clarity, began unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his firm, seductive chest.
Ignatius reached out to grab her hands, his voice hoarse, "Don’t move."
The woman’s hands were long and smooth. Her sharp nails grazed his skin, leaving an exaggerated sting. Ignatius’s body instantly froze. Delphine never kept long nails; she always trimmed them neatly and never got manicures.
Even the scent on the person in his arms was wrong. Ignatius’s expression darkened abruptly. He was about to push her away when the door was suddenly flung open, and a crowd of reporters stormed in, their cameras flashing incessantly.
"Miss Delphine, is this the rumored benefactor behind you?"
"There are rampant rumors online that every lead role you’ve secured was due to backdoor deals. Is that true?"
"Miss Delphine, is your immense popularity in the entertainment sector solely the result of money poured in by your benefactors?"
The reporters bombarded them with aggressive questions. For them, uncovering a scandal involving the most enigmatic and aloof actress in the entertainment world, Delphine, was like striking gold.
"What’s going on?" The entire hotel floor had been reserved by the Leclair Family. Members of prestigious families rushed in, and as they took in the sight of the bedroom’s king-sized bed, the man on it glared at them with eyes as sharp as knives. The room fell into absolute silence. Leclair—Leclair Young Master?
The man on the bed, who appeared cold and expressionless, was none other than the Crown Prince of a century-old South Asian noble family, someone who had never graced tabloids or given interviews?
At that moment, the woman in the man’s arms lifted her head, revealing a flushed face that looked as though it had been ravaged. Her delicate, pure appearance was striking, but she was definitely not Delphine—the mysterious, glamorous actress famously known for her icy demeanor. Instead, it was Melody Cloud, the eldest daughter of the prominent Cloud Family and this year’s top debutante.
On the floor lay a torn evening gown. The man’s shirt was half undone, their disheveled state making it painfully obvious: these two were caught in the throes of passion. And yet, had the intruders barged in at the worst possible moment, ruining their intimate liaison?
The onlookers shuddered, feeling chills down their spines. They felt like crying.
"Get out—" Ignatius’s voice was so deep it could drip water. He wanted to shove the woman in his arms away, but Melody’s barely clothed state meant that if he let go, she would be entirely exposed.
Ignatius’s temples throbbed violently. His grip tightened, veins bulging on the back of his hand as he struggled to regain composure in the heat of the aphrodisiac-filled air. His mood was at rock bottom.
The reporters fled in disarray, while the noble family scions hurriedly left, carrying the explosive news. Within moments, rumors spread like wildfire. Photos of South Asia’s Leclair Young Master and the number-one debutante, caught in a compromised embrace, began circulating rapidly.
Once everyone had left, Ignatius flung Melody to the side. Melody clutched her head and screamed in panic, "Don’t come near me, stay away!"
The Cloud couple rushed in upon hearing the commotion and were met with the sight of their daughter, hysterical and disoriented. Mrs. Cloud immediately broke down, running forward to hug her daughter. Choking with emotion, she cried out, "Melody, my Melody."
"Get away, don’t touch me!" Melody shrieked hoarsely.
She wouldn’t let anyone approach her.
Ignatius’s face darkened ominously. He stepped forward, grabbed a blanket from nearby, wrapped it tightly around her, and said in a low voice, "She must have been traumatized. Take her to the hospital first."