GoodReadHis Threat Suddenly, Nicole's complexion drained of color.
Was Jarrod unaware that beneath her coat, she only wore her underwear as he instructed? Removing her coat would be akin to
standing naked for all to see, wouldn't it? In the past, Nicole had joined clients for dinners, but always dressed in her professional
attire.
Being a Lawrence, people would only dare to mock Nicole with words, never mistaking her for a mere whore.
But now, Jarrod seemed poised to tarnish her good name in this entertainment place.
The other two men perked up.
"Stop acting so prim and proper.
We're not here to watch you hide behind that coat.
Off with it, and make it quick." "Yes, entertain us well and you'll be handsomely rewarded.” Their expressions were filled with
unsavory intent, making Nicole reel as if she had been struck across the face.
Jarrod, watching her frozen stance, let out a sardonic laugh.
"Let's remember, Miss Lawrence hails from a respectable family.
Perhaps we should allow her a moment to consider.” "Really? That's rather dull.
Maybe we should find someone else to entertain us for the time being?" With a gesture from Deniz, a group of barmaids entered,
dressed in revealing attire and drawing all eyes.
Deniz pointed out two particularly striking women, instructing them, "Take special care of Mr.
Schultz.” These two women were well-trained and walked toward Jarrod as instructed immediately.
Their eyes lit up when they saw Jarrod.
Such a dashing guy was seldom seen here.
They approached him unabashedly and settled on either side, hands provocatively on Jarrod's legs.
"Mr.
Schultz, what would you like to do now?" Deniz chuckled at their forwardness.
"You're both quite fortunate to attend to a man of Mr.
Schultz's caliber.” Jarrod didn't dismiss their advances, enveloping them with an arm each and boldly finishing the drink nestled
against one’s curves.
The wine’s aroma lingered as Jarrod squinted his eyes at Nicole and, with a mocking smile, he toyed with his phone.
"Miss Lawrence, should I get your family's permission for you?" Nicole's heart seemed to lurch at the mention of her family.
Suddenly, Nicole felt a grip around her throat, stealing her breath away.
She was certain Jarrod intended to torment her this evening.
If she failed to appease Jarrod, he might unleash his fury upon her family.
Was she to ingratiate herself with these men, like a whore? A scornful smile crept across Nicole's face.
Very well, she would comply with his desires.
She shed her bulky coat, unveiling her slender legs and smooth skin.
The barmaids in attendance all inhaled sharply.
Their alluring attire was meant to charm the patrons, yet they stood no chance against Nicole's unveiled elegance.
As anticipated, every man’s gaze clung to Nicole.
Nicole was undeniably a good-looking woman in terms of her appearance.
Even in mere undergarments, Nicole exuded an undeniable presence, starkly unlike the barmaids.
Casting aside her dignity, Nicole approached those men, seated herself alongside them, and lifted a wine glass.
"My apologies for the breach of conduct on my initial day.
Allow me to offer amends,” she declared.
With that, Nicole downed her wine in a one gulp, her tongue delicately catching the remaining droplets, a vision of allure.
Nicole held the undivided attention of those men.
Such a prize she was! Jarrod, witnessing Deniz’s greedy stare, felt a shadow cross his striking features, a surge of displeasure
rising within.
Jarrod lifted his hand to massage his temples, convincing himself he just found Nicole's behavior repulsive.
The gloomy expression in Jarrod’s eyes deepened, and he looked rather pale even with the company of two barmaids.
His gaze swept over Nicole with a frigid air, anticipating her next move.
Meanwhile, Deniz, lost in his desire, withdrew several thick bundles of cash from his briefcase, shoving aside the barmaid next to
him.
He beckoned Nicole over.
"Come, take a seat here.
These will all be yours if you attend to me well." Nicole, after a swift swallow of wine, winced as a sharp pain flared in her
stomach.
From the corner of her eyes, she saw Jarrod’s shirt carelessly undone by the barmaids whose hands were roaming his chest.
His features were alight with pleasure, signaling his contentment.
"T'll certainly do my utmost to please you tonight,” Nicole responded with a beguiling smile, sliding into the seat beside Deniz.
Deniz moved quickly to hold Nicole's waist, bringing her into his arms with a fervent touch.
Nicole's brow furrowed briefly before smoothing.
Deniz's breath, heavy and tainted, washed over her as he voiced his approval.
"I like women who are open and uncomplicated like you." Nicole's lips pressed together, a wave of nausea rising..
Masking her discomfort as a bid to drink, she deftly managed to dodge Deniz's advances.
"Mr.
Miller, allow me the honor of pouring your drink.” Deniz, gripping her delicate wrist, tilted back his head to drain the glass, then
lurched for Nicole.
Her smile still enchanting, Nicole offered, "Another glass for you, Mr.
Miller?” As Deniz touched Nicole's soft hand, he inquired, "And your name, darling?” With a hint of scorn flickering in her eyes,
Nicole answered, "Nicky will do.” That name struck a chord in Jarrod, his brooding eyes turning stormier.
It was Nicole's nickname during their tender days of affection, when she declared to him earnestly, "You're the only one in this life
to call me Nicky.” But now...
How could Nicole allow this old man, whom she had only just met a moment ago, to address her in such a manner? Jarrod's
throat tightened, his composure slipping.
"What a slut!" he muttered to himself.
The other men, enthralled by Nicole's charm, began to compete in their offers, flinging cash onto the table, one even audaciously
tossing a stack of cash at Nicole's face.
Nicole was shocked, feeling as though her face was on fire.
These drunk men complained, "Mr.
Miller, don't keep holding her.
Nicky's here for our enjoyment.” "Indeed, let's have fun together.” Never before had Nicole endured such public disgrace.
Previously, Jarrod's torment had been private, but now he had pushed her into the open, subjecting her to the crowd's derision.
Despite her inner turmoil, Nicole maintained a facade of cheerfulness.
Nicole knew Jarrod's only desire was to witness her utter humiliation, to satiate his own sense of satisfaction.
Complying with his wishes would only tighten his grip on her and hasten the downfall of the Lawrence family.
Nicole was acutely aware that she could not afford to gratify Jarrod.
In times of despair, it was common for people to endure beyond their perceived limits.
And Nicole was no exception.
At this moment, her outfit was quite revealing, giving her a vulnerable appearance, yet her resolute dignity stayed intact.
Even in the lowly role of a whore drinking with these disgusting men, Nicole commanded attention, reigning supreme over the
establishment.
Surveying the greedy faces in front of her, Nicole raised her glass with a smile and assured, "Don't be concerned, gentlemen.
Nicky will be here to keep you company tonight.” With each word, she downed glass after glass, using the liquor to ward off the
lecherous advances.
Yet, she couldn't fend off everyone.
A series of uneven bruises marred her skin.
Some left harsh pinches, branding her with red, swollen imprints.
Nicole, however, uttered no complaints.
She had faced far crueler treatment at Jarrod’s hands.
By comparison, these men were almost kind.
Nicole's slightly drunk state only added to her allure in the eyes of the onlookers.
She cast an involuntary glance at Jarrod, then quickly diverted her gaze.
With renewed resolve, she topped up her glass and went around, bottle in hand, toasting each man.
Finally, under alcohol's sway, Nicole approached Jarrod with a full glass in hand.
"Mr.
Schultz, Nicky wishes you...” Her words slurred as she attempted the toast.
She tilted her head back, emptying her glass, indifferent to Jarrod's stern countenance.
Jarrod's expression turned stormy, having lost sight of the fact that he was the instigator of this debacle.
He regarded her as a shameless woman, entertaining these men in such attire, acting no better than a whore.
He was livid.
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