Never Too Far Novel

Chapter 2 The Addictive Taste of Her

The room was bathed in a warm glow of the lights. The man who sat on the couch had flawless features, his handsome face the painstaking artwork of the heavens. He wore a finely tailored suit that accentuated his strong silhouette. At present, Elliot Presgrave’s eyes turned icy as his grandmother’s steely voice reverberated in his mind.

Elliot, you must take Anastasia Tillman for a wife. I will only have her and no one else as my granddaughter-in-law in the Presgrave Family.

Right now, however, the only person Elliot was thinking of was the woman whom he had ravished in the dark all those years ago. That fateful night, his drink had been laced and rendered him so intoxicated that the only thing he remembered was how the woman had hopelessly sobbed while she begged for mercy under him.

When all was done, he had taken off his watch and pressed it into her hand, thereafter passing out in the dimness of that room.

Fast forward to five years later; he was still looking for her. It was just last week when he learned that she had sold off his watch at the secondhand market, but the news came too late, for his grandmother insisted that he take some other woman for a wife.

Just then, his phone rang once more. He picked it up and greeted brusquely, “What?”

“Young Master Elliot, we have found the girl. Her name is Hayley Seymour, and she was the one who personally sold off the watch.”

“Send me her address, and I’ll pay her a visit,” Elliot ordered as an elated gleam flashed in his eyes. The mysterious girl from that night has finally been sighted! I have to find her, no matter what. I need to make it up to her for the things I’ve done that night.

Meanwhile, Hayley was in the women’s boutique. She had taken over the boutique a little over a year ago, but the business had been on a steady decline. Struggling to pay rent, she had tried to come up with ways to scrape together enough money to tide over. At last, she decided to try to sell the watch she had in her possession, and much to her pleasant surprise, it fetched a whopping price of five hundred thousand.

The watch hadn’t been hers, to begin with. Five years ago, the clubhouse staff had contacted her and told her that they had retrieved a watch from the private room, thereafter prompting her to collect it from their lost and found department. Upon arriving at the club and seeing that it was a designer men’s watch, she claimed it as her own without even a second of hesitation.

closet until she decided to sell it off at the secondhand market last week. Leading up to the sale, she hadn’t expected that the watch would be worth much, but

as she stared at the amount of money she had in her account, and she thought happily to herself, I guess I can live comfortably

her boutique swung open, and she quickly rose to greet the customer. “Welcome

then, so stunned that

had entered her boutique stood tall and straight. He was

daze before she stumbled

was a fair question, considering she was running a women’s boutique. It was impossible that a man wearing a refined handmade suit would be here to

her face, desperately trying to

quite finish her words; her faculty of speech was going haywire

reply, the man reached into his pocket and produced a men’s watch before her, then asked in a deep, rumbling voice,

the urge to shrink into

one who was in Room 808?” Elliot pressed, eyeing the

began to turn furiously. Room 808 from five years ago… Wasn’t that the room where

too much on this, she answered straightforwardly, “Of course, that

to pawn it off again. I’ll make it up to you for what happened that night,” he said as

at him in shock. Elliot Presgrave? As in, the heir to Presgrave Corporation, the leading conglomerate? “Y-You’re Elliot Presgrave?” she asked, so overwhelmed she

handed her a name card and interjected, “Miss Seymour, this is our young master’s name card. You may look for him if you need his help in any

took the card with one shaky hand, and when she saw the shell-shocking name embossed onto the gold stationery, her heart nearly flew out of her chest. So the guy who slept with Anastasia five years ago was not the male escort we arranged for her, but this

upon her, Hayley reached out and grabbed Elliot’s arm, then forced tears to spring to her eyes as she threw a fit. “You have to take responsibility, Elliot. Do you know how hurt and traumatized I was after that night?” With that, she looked down and cried crocodile tears, sobbing miserably like she was the one who had been violated five years

of the victim from that fateful night. She was set on having Elliot take responsibility so that she could get more benefits out of this. Ultimately, she hoped to marry

man said solemnly, his husky

He will take care of