Chapter 1569: Chapter 1569: I Didn’t Order Special Service
The surroundings suddenly fell silent.
Jesse Rowan stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, finishing an entire cigarette before lazily walking over and nudging Joan Harry’s leg with his foot.
Joan Harry shrank back to the edge of the bed in panic, her red-rimmed eyes lifting to meet his.
Jesse Rowan sneered, “Looking at you like this, I’m almost convinced you’re plotting to kill me.”
His bare foot lightly rubbed against her fair, smooth leg.
So soft. The texture felt incredible.
Joan Harry didn’t respond, her face blank and expressionless.
“That food’s yours?” Jesse Rowan’s gaze landed on a takeout container on the table, which appeared to have gone cold.
“Mm.”
“Why didn’t you eat it?”
“…”
“Oh, how could I forget? Eating isn’t as urgent as running away, of course.” A mocking laugh escaped Jesse Rowan again.
Joan Harry bit her lip but didn’t say a word.
Jesse Rowan’s foot continued to rub against her leg, a look of satisfaction on his face.
Despite the scratches on his body left by her nails, at this moment, he wasn’t in a bad mood.
Men, after their desires are fulfilled, rarely stay in bad moods. Jesse was no exception.
Jesse Rowan picked up a cellphone lying on the floor and tossed it to Joan Harry. “Send a text to the person you’ve been thinking about. Tell him not to meddle in other people’s domestic matters.”
Of course, Joan Harry wouldn’t send a message to Sylvan Cheney.
She hugged her knees with both arms, refusing to move.
“Not sending it? If you don’t, I’ll call him myself. Though I’m not a fan of random phone harassment, if I make the call, I’ll make it interesting. For instance, letting him hear you…”
“Enough!” Joan Harry’s face flushed red. “There’s nothing between Mr. Cheney and me! Stop judging others based on your own low standards!”
“Low standards, huh? You’ll have to explain it to me. What do you mean by judging others with low standards? Who’s the villain, and who’s the gentleman? Hmm?”
“I’m tired. I want to sleep. Is that okay?” Joan Harry bit hard on her lip.
“Then tell me—am I good to you or not?”
“…” Joan Harry refused to answer.
Jesse Rowan’s foot rubbed circles against her leg. “I don’t like girls who lie to me. I also don’t like girls who deceive me. Be honest—am I good to you or not?”
“Jesse Rowan, must you force me like this?”
Joan Harry lifted her head, staring into his devil-like eyes.
On his face, she saw a cruel, mocking smirk.
He stood over her, looking down at her as though she were just a toy—one he could manipulate and control at will.
At that moment, the doorbell rang.
Joan Harry instinctively pulled the blanket over herself.
Jesse Rowan sneered, withdrew his foot, and walked toward the door.
He opened it. The woman standing outside wasn’t unfamiliar—it was Lilac Serval.
“Miss, have we met before? I didn’t request any special services.” Jesse Rowan flashed his signature disarmingly innocent smile.
“Where is Miss Harry?” Lilac Serval had come after receiving a call from Sylvan Cheney.
“Oh, you mean my girlfriend? She’s in the bedroom. Want to come in?”
“I’d like to have a word with her.”
“Joan, this lovely lady wants to have a word with you.” Jesse Rowan wasn’t stupid; he knew she worked for Sylvan Cheney.
The last time at the hotel, the dim lighting hadn’t let him see clearly. But under today’s light, he could tell—this woman was stunning.
And… strangely familiar.
Ah, right, wasn’t she the woman in those photos he had seen in Charles Mcintosh’s drawer?
So that’s how it was.
Sylvan Cheney’s people were all about keeping things close to home, huh? Never let good opportunities go to waste.
“Miss Harry.” Lilac Serval called out. “Are you okay?”