My Second Chance
Copyright© 2026 by BillMax
Chapter 6: Kill Again
“The hell—rebellion, is it?”
The young man behind the girl went from smug to furious in a heartbeat. “Where is he? I’m going to kill that son of a bitch!”
“He’s in the Skyview Room.”
The girl snatched a walkie-talkie from a security guard and strode into Cloudcrest Restaurant with a face like winter. “This is Elena Shaw. All security personnel, assemble outside the Skyview Room immediately. Do not disturb the other guests.”
Minutes earlier, inside the Skyview Room, Claire Jensen was apologizing with a strained smile.
“Mr. Calloway, I’m truly sorry. I really can’t drink alcohol. I’ll toast you with water instead.”
Blake Calloway’s gaze slid over her figure, and his expression darkened. “Miss Jensen, dinner is almost over, and from start to finish I’ve shown you nothing but respect. This is the first glass and the last. I hope you appreciate that.”
Claire touched her stomach and forced herself to speak. “I’m sorry, Mr. Calloway, I—”
Bang!
Blake slammed his wine glass onto the table. Alan Prescott, seated beside him, rushed to smooth things over. “It’s Claire’s first time at one of these dinners. She doesn’t know the etiquette yet. Mr. Calloway, please calm down. I’ll talk to her.”
He turned on Claire with a harsh glare. “What’s wrong with you? Mr. Calloway is a major player in Westlake City and a patron of Verdant Design. The smallest favor from a man like him could set you up for life. Do you understand? Now pour the drink and apologize to Mr. Calloway.”
Claire wanted to confess she was pregnant, but she also knew that in this industry, pregnancy often meant the end of a career. Her husband owed gambling debts, and she still had a family to support. She couldn’t take the risk.
After wrestling with it, she lied.
“Mr. Prescott, I understand what you’re saying. It’s not that I don’t want to save face. I truly can’t drink liquor. Even a sip makes me sick. If I ruined the room, that would be worse than rude.”
Blake’s eyes lit up. He laughed. “So you can’t handle liquor, Miss Jensen? You should have said so sooner. Lucky for you, I brought an excellent bottle of red. Open it, Mr. Prescott.”
“Right away, Mr. Calloway.”
Alan stood, went to the wine cabinet, and poured from the bottle on the top shelf. As the red liquid flowed, a small pill dropped in and vanished.
“Here we are, Claire. I didn’t pour much—just two sips. Give Mr. Calloway a proper toast. Men like him don’t come around often. You need to seize the opportunity.”
Claire ran out of excuses. The glass held only a little wine. She told herself it wouldn’t hurt the baby much, took the glass, and stood.
“Mr. Calloway, I wasn’t clear earlier and spoiled your mood. I’m grateful you’re magnanimous. I’m honored to work with your company, and I hope you’ll continue to guide me. Thank you. Here’s to you.”
“Well said.”
Blake lifted his glass, greedy eyes fixed on Claire’s curves, wishing he could strip her down right there.
He had a taste for married women. Two weeks ago he’d seen Claire at a property expo and been struck by her beauty, then contacted Alan Prescott.
The danger of having killed her father-in-law was behind him, and Alan was preparing to swallow Verdant Design whole. He needed outside support. The two men had found each other instantly.
Selling out one designer whose husband was worthless meant nothing to him. If Blake wanted Hannah Kane herself, Alan would happily clean his wife up and deliver her to the other man’s bed.
The glass had almost reached Claire’s lips. Blake could barely swallow. Alan’s eyes glittered with excitement.
Bang!
The private room door flew open.
“Claire!”
Claire’s hand jerked. She turned, eyes wide with shock. “Marcus ... what are you doing here?”
Marcus Hale strode forward, snatched the glass from her, and smelled it. His face went cold.
“Who the hell are you? Who let you in?” Alan shot to his feet, furious.
Claire recovered first. “I’m sorry, Mr. Calloway, Mr. Prescott. He’s my husband. I’ll make him leave right now.”
She dragged Marcus toward the door and hissed, “What are you doing? I’m at work. Do you want to get me fired?”
“Claire, listen to me. Alan Prescott has no good intentions. Blake Calloway is the most notorious bastard in Westlake City. He loves other men’s wives. He—”
“What are you saying? That I’m shameless?”
Claire’s face went pale, her eyes red. “Marcus, you’ve gambled for two years while I’ve worked myself to death paying your debts, feeding you, taking care of you. When have I ever wronged you? And now you suspect me? Have you lost your conscience entirely?”
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.