Find me in your labyrinth (Stella and Jonathan)
Chapter 1979

Huff's icy gaze pinned Winston to the spot. "If Mr. Raiden gets wind of this, you're going to have a tough time explaining yourself."

Winston, his back against the wall, blurted out, "She came on to me first!"

"Do you really think Mr. Alvis will buy that excuse?" Huff retorted.

Winston's face drained of color, his voice tinged with panic, "I swear it won't happen again, Huff! Just keep this under wraps for me, please!"

Huff snorted derisively, "Let's hope there isn't a next time."

"Absolutely, I promise!" Winston said hastily, "Just don't let Raiden find out."

With a dismissive glance, Huff turned and left the office.

Winston let out a deep sigh of relief, cursing Beverly for nearly being his downfall.

Exiting the building, Huff spotted Sylvia, who was still lingering nearby.

Sylvia turned to him, a playful pout on her lips, "You've spoiled my fun for the second time, Mr. Huff!"

Huff regarded her coolly, "You might think it's fine to seduce men behind Mr. Alvis's back, but not at Zion. You know as well as I do, we can't afford to cross Mr. Alvis."

With a shrug of resignation, Sylvia extended her hand to Huff, her pout morphing into a coy plea, "I made a mistake. Please, Mr. Huff, turn a blind eye this time. I'm usually such a good girl."

Huff glanced down at her delicate, pale hand, each finger perfectly sculpted like an artwork, her nails neatly manicured, glistening under the sunlight with a soft, pearly sheen.

He took her hand gently, his own much larger and enveloping hers completely, but he only politely grasped her fingers before promptly letting go.

"Let's consider today's incident forgotten, but don't let there be a repeat, Ms. Beverly."

"Of course!" Sylvia withdrew her hand, giving him a sly smile, "I'll get going then."

With that, she walked off towards her car, her figure graceful and alluring, a blend of seduction and purity that could easily ensnare men like Winston in an instant.

Huff watched her leave, his expression unreadable, as she got into her car and seemed to wave at him through the window.

Without a change in his demeanor, Huff turned and walked away, his hand slightly curled, the thin membrane he had retrieved from the office pressed against his palm. When Sylvia returned to the villa, Estelle was just waking Lambert.

Rubbing his head, Lambert sat up in a daze, "Did I fall asleep?"

"Yes," Sylvia approached, "Did you have a rough night?"

"Indeed, I did," Lambert pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes flickering towards the now cold tea on the table.

Sylvia reached for the tea, "It's cold. I'll throw it out."

Lambert's hand shot out to stop her, his gaze meaningful, "Cold tea has its own charm, doesn't it? Don't waste good leaves, Ms. Beverly. Drink up."

"Sorry, I don't like cold tea," Sylvia replied.

"I do!" Estelle chimed in, taking the tea for herself.

Lambert suddenly said, "Never mind, don't drink it if it's cold."

"It's fine." Estelle lifted the cup and drank it down.

"Rella!" Lambert tried to intervene, but it was too late - he could only watch as Estelle finished the tea.