CALLING HIS BOSS
"Thank you for the thoughtful gesture, Mr. Quentin," Isabella says with a half-smile before Henry, who is grinning from ear to ear owing to Jordan's impending tragedy, can say anything. "But for some reasons best known to me, I don't want Jordan to be punished by the cops."

She sighs despondently and turns to Henry, saying softly, "I'm sorry, but I have to leave now. I'm exhausted."

The grin on Henry's face fades away and his eyes squint darkly. He had assumed after everything was resolved, he would have a chance with Isabella and could still go ahead to drug her one way or another and have his way with her. Sleeping with her is like an ache. His blood rushes at the mere thought of his dick buried deep inside her pussy and stretching her pussy walls.

But once again, his plan has failed.

He so much feels like punching holes through walls, but remembering he still needs to pretend to be the perfect gentleman to Isabella, he pulls himself together and clears his throat,

"Quentin,"
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