Yvonne patiently listened to Sandra''s anxious instructions before following her into a private suite.


    The room was a gaudy disy of wealth, the air thick with the cloying smell of expensive liquor. Yvonne wrinkled her nose in distaste.


    "Mr. Taylor, Mr. Ward, Mr. Reed..." Sandra stered on a smile, greeting the key yers in the room before pulling Yvonne forward. "This is Yvonne, a new artist with our agency."


    Yvonne stood beside Sandra, her longshes lowered in a disy of shy modesty, while her eyes discreetly scanned the room.


    There were about a dozen people, the women mostly artists from Nexus Media. The men were a mix of balding real estate tycoons and arrogant young heirs, lounging with women in theirps.


    Mr. Ward, the man from the previous day, was there, his arm wrapped around Marina. "Weren''t you supposed to be with me yesterday?" he taunted. "You went to the restroom and just disappeared."


    "I wasn''t feeling well, so I went home early," Marina replied meekly.


    "Not feeling well yesterday, and I bet you''re not feeling well today either. Don''t think you can get away from me," Mr. Ward sneered, pinching her cheek hard.


    Marina''s eyes filled with fear, and she shot a pleading look at Sandra. But Sandra ignored her, her attention focused on the man in the main seat.


    He was young and handsome,zily swirling a ss of wine. Thomas Taylor, the heir to one of Istra''s wealthiest families.


    No wonder Sandra had warned her to be careful.


    "Yvonne, there''s an empty seat next to Mr. Taylor. Go and offer him a drink," Sandra said, giving her a gentle push.


    In a room full of lecherous old men, married sleazebags, and degenerate heirs, Thomas Taylor was the only one who seemed remotely decent.


    "Mr. Taylor, a pleasure," Yvonne said, sitting beside him and grabbing an unopened can of beer from the table.


    "Ms. Jones, we meet again," Thomas said, azy smile ying on his lips.


    "Well, look who it is. The beauty from yesterday, Mr. Ward''s eyestched onto Yvonne again, his gaze greedy and obscene. "Chairman Spencer knows how to treat us right, Sending over the best ones first."


    "Oh? You like her, Mr. Ward?" Thomas asked, raising an eyebrow. He was smiling,


    but his eyes had turned sharp and cold.


    "Who wouldn''t like a vixen like that?"


    Mr. Wardughed crudely. "When you''re done with her, Mr. Taylor call first dibso one else gets to cut in line


    "Don''t you already have Marina? She''s so good at taking care of a man; you should be satisfied This new one to so young she could be your daughter. An old man like you trying to rob the cradle," the real estate tycoon teased.


    “I''ve still got good teeth. I can handle her,” Mr. Ward roared withughter.


    "You certainly are a marvel, Mr. Ward," Thomas said, his voice light, but an icy aura radiated from him.


    Beside him, Yvonne sipped her beer, saying nothing. A pinhole camera hidden on her chest was silently recording everything.


    Thomas was the most restrained of them all, his gaze only asionally drifting to Yvonne with a half-smile.