Chapter 565

Isabella Morgan had assumed that since Dominic Powell brought her here, those men wouldn't dare to cause trouble.

But Dominic never showed up. She sat alone at the bar, already two drinks in, growing increasingly uneasy.

Even if Dominic had stayed in the car to make a call, thirty minutes had passed. He should've returned by now. "Dominic, where are you?"

She moved to a quieter corner and dialed his number.

"I'm leaving."

"Leaving? You dragged me here just to abandon me?" Isabella couldn't believe it. She felt utterly played. "Dominic, are you messing with me?"

She expected at least some excuse, some half-hearted explanation. Instead, Dominic just laughed. "Yeah. How'd you guess?"

His mocking tone made her blood run cold.

Remembering his ruthless methods, she bit back her anger. Provoking him risked a repeat of last time's humiliation.

After hanging up, she slammed her phone down and ordered two more shots.

She downed them in quick succession.

Nearby, Vincent White watched her with predatory interest.

Seeing her alone, he slid onto the stool beside her.

"Sweetheart, why drink alone? Let me get you another."

Isabella glanced at his cheap watch - barely worth ten grand - and sneered. "Get lost. You can't afford me."

Her fiery attitude only intrigued him more. "No need to be rude. Just being friendly."

Already irritated and now tipsy, Isabella snapped.

When Vincent tried to touch her arm, she grabbed her half-finished cocktail and threw it in his face.

Liquor dripped from his chin onto his crisp white shirt.

His expression darkened. No one humiliated Vincent White.

He grabbed her throat and yanked her close. "You bitch! Do you know whose club this is?"

The sharp slap across her face sobered her instantly.

She glared at him, struggling. "Let go! Do you know who I'm connected to?"

"I don't give a damn!" Vincent started dragging her toward the VIP section.

One of his lackeys chuckled. "Consider it an honor to entertain Mr. White."

Now she understood why no staff intervened. This was Vincent's domain - the infamous Eclipse Lounge.

Fear prickled her skin as she cursed Dominic's betrayal. Bringing her here only to abandon her.

Vincent hauled her toward an upstairs private room.

Her stomach dropped. At least downstairs had witnesses. Behind closed doors...

"Stop! I'm Alexander Whitmore's woman!"

The name carried weight in Cresthaven. Most men would back off immediately.

Vincent knew Alexander, but scoffed. "Nice try, sweetheart." He tightened his grip. "Keep lying and I'll gag that pretty mouth."

The door clicked shut behind them.

Isabella's heart pounded as she made a break for the ensuite bathroom, locking herself in.

Fingers trembling, she dialed Alexander.

The phone rang. And rang.

No answer.

Vincent started pounding on the door. "Open up, princess!"

She redialed desperately. He'd have tools to break in soon.

The knocking grew louder.

Alexander had to pick up. He just had to.