Victoria Sinclair couldn’t detect any surprise in his tone.
She slowly opened her eyes and turned her head to look at Eugene Vaughn beside her.
He sat at the corner of the sofa, a meter away from her, still wearing the casual tracksuit from the morning. His short hair was wet, as were his shoulders and clothes.
He leaned his head back, resting it on the sofa, with legs and arms sprawled out in a lazy and carefree manner as if he had drunk too much.
Victoria Sinclair asked in a soft voice, "Did you drive yourself?"
Eugene Vaughn remained motionless and replied indifferently, "Couldn’t find a driver in the rain, took a rideshare."
No wonder he got wet, probably ran in from outside the neighborhood without an umbrella.
Victoria Sinclair’s tone was as calm as water, "Tonight, you don’t plan to go home, do you?"
"If I don’t go, will you be sitting here waiting all night?"
Victoria Sinclair firmly said, "Yes."
Eugene Vaughn gave a faint smile, took a deep breath, bent forward, elbows on his knees, and rubbed his eyes with his hands, "It’s almost dawn, go to your room and sleep."
Victoria Sinclair gently pinched the corner of her clothes, feeling depressed. After a moment of contemplation, she gathered the courage to ask, "Did you visit Renee on set?"
Eugene Vaughn answered without a moment’s hesitation, "Yes."
Victoria Sinclair felt a stab in her heart, a sudden pain.
She endured the pain and continued to ask, "Went to the hotel to get a room?"
Eugene Vaughn couldn’t help but chuckle, turning his head to look at Victoria Sinclair, speaking as casually as chatting about the weather, "Victoria Sinclair, do you follow entertainment news?"
Victoria Sinclair dared not meet his eyes, lowered her head, pretending to be composed and calm, "I don’t watch it; someone else told me."
"Does it bother you?" His eyes flickered with a subtle darkness.
Victoria Sinclair shook her head in denial, "Just asking casually."
"Which media outlet?" Eugene Vaughn leaned back on the sofa again, "I’ll have the legal department sue them tomorrow."
"No need, you can’t possibly sue them all." Victoria Sinclair’s tone carried a hint of sarcasm.
After all, he had many rumors, and more than just a few media outlets reported them.
Eugene Vaughn fell silent.
The atmosphere seemed somewhat stalemated, and Victoria Sinclair showed no intention of going to the room to sleep.
The quiet living room felt particularly cold.
Eugene Vaughn exhaled softly, speaking slowly, "Charlie Spencer, Miles Shaw, Vivian Miller, my assistant Chen, and a few directors and screenwriters you don’t know, plus Renee, and her male co-star partner, a dozen people in total did book rooms, but it was for the May Day party."
Victoria Sinclair’s heart raced as she gazed at his drunkenly handsome face with a hint of anticipation, "Did you check the surveillance?"
Eugene Vaughn smirked, lifted his hand to cover his eyes, showing fatigue, his voice lazy, "Victoria Sinclair, is this how you make the first move?"
Victoria Sinclair was slightly startled, a bit puzzled.
Eugene Vaughn pursued, "Do you not have a phone, or are you out of credit?"
Victoria Sinclair felt a bit guilty.
She indeed had a probing attitude, and as it turned out, he would check the surveillance.
What surprised her was that at 3:30 in the morning, in the pouring rain, he rushed back home from the party.
Victoria Sinclair didn’t answer his question; she stood up and said, "You’re all wet, go to your room, take a hot shower, and rest early."
After saying this, she turned and entered her room.
Eugene Vaughn got up from the sofa, caught up with Victoria Sinclair, and grabbed her arm in front of her door, pinning her against the nearby wall.
The sudden closeness made Victoria Sinclair gasp for air, her back stiff against the wall.
His large hands were warm, and the gentle fragrance belonging to him, mixed with a faint scent of alcohol, spread across her with his scorching body heat and his fiery breath.
The man’s physique was robust and large, with his other hand supporting the wall, bending down, gazing with intoxicated eyes at Victoria Sinclair’s flushed face.
His breath grew more ragged, like a fire within, the hot breath from his nose fell on her brow and cheeks, making her body tingle and soften, her heart twisting tightly with anxiety.
His voice was deep, as if thundering from his throat, hoarse beyond recognition, "Victoria Sinclair, if only you would make a move just once, I would..."
The words stopped halfway, and Victoria Sinclair vaguely heard something, uncertainly looking up at him.
His eyes were deep and unfathomable, like a black hole in an abyss, a faint light hitting her face.
His gaze moved from Victoria Sinclair’s eyes downward, lingering on her fair and smooth face, her delicate nose, finally pausing at her soft pink lips.
His Adam’s apple moved up and down, his gaze turned deep and passionate, slowly lowering inch by inch closer.
Victoria Sinclair watched as his face enlarged, his breath like fire spreading around her lips, her heart pounding like a mad rabbit, causing pain in her chest, feeling like it would leap into her throat.
The alcohol in his breath brought her sanity back, making her turn her head slightly to dodge.
Eugene Vaughn’s nose brushed against her cheek, pausing in that instant.
The grip on her arm tightened slightly, her arm hurt, sensing his anger, even the atmosphere felt oppressive.
"Dodged again?" His voice was hoarse and icy.
"Again?" Victoria Sinclair was stunned for several seconds.
The second day after meeting for matchmaking, Eugene Vaughn tried to kiss her.
Because they were too unfamiliar, because she was shy, she did dodge.
But this time, she dodged because he was drunk, unsure if the person he wanted to kiss was Renee or her, who looked like Renee.
Victoria Sinclair took a light breath, her nervous voice soft and weak, "Eugene Vaughn, I am Victoria Sinclair, are you drunk?"
"You are Victoria Sinclair?" Eugene Vaughn gave a magnetic yet lightly bitter smile, softly murmuring her name, "Victoria Sinclair, Victoria, Sinclair."
Eugene Vaughn’s hand supporting the wall clenched into a fist, his arm bent pressing against the wall, his body leaning forward, head almost pressing against the side of her face, inches away, his scorching breath on Victoria Sinclair’s neck.
Like a small flame igniting her skin, spreading from her neck, making her whole body hot, heart trembling, the unfamiliar tingling sensation causing panic.
"Do you think I see you as someone else?" When Victoria Sinclair asked this, she felt her heart was torn open, fearing the answer, yet wanting to know.
"Very similar indeed..." Eugene Vaughn’s tone lingered, softly murmuring, "You don’t like makeup, you’re not as exotic as her, not as alluring, you..."
As he spoke, he slowly straightened his head, keeping some distance, looking at Victoria Sinclair’s face, "You’re... even prettier."
Victoria Sinclair didn’t feel happy because of his compliment; instead, she felt inexplicably sad, terribly wronged, suppressing the urge to cry, "So, am I just something to keep at home for you to watch?"
Eugene Vaughn smirked, "Victoria Sinclair, are you a vase?"
Victoria Sinclair lightly shook her head, "I’m not."
"Being able to keep you at home is not bad either." Eugene Vaughn murmured, slowly releasing her hand, stepping back, half-smiling, staggering as he turned, walking to the room, muttering to himself, "At least... still something to keep at home."
Victoria Sinclair’s heart ached slightly, tears blurred her vision as she watched Eugene Vaughn enter the room and shut the door.
Besides looking like Renee, being visually pleasing to him, what do I mean to him? New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on n͟o͟v͟e͟l͟f͟i͟r͟e͟.net
Victoria Sinclair bit her lower lip, helplessly leaning against the wall, turning her head to look out the window.
Her cheeks felt cool.
She reached out, touched her face, a line of tears dampened her hand, and her cheeks.