His Untamed Rose novel Chapter 132

The private club had been reserved for the entire night. On one side, Stella and her girlfriends posed for photos, giggling and lighting birthday candles; on the other, the men gathered around a table, playing cards and knocking back drinks.

Cedric lingered in a shadowed corner, his broad frame slouched against the back of an armchair, eyes brooding beneath the rim of his glass.

Leaning in close, Stella whispered to her friends, “That’s the guy I told you about. The one I’ve had my eye on.”

Her friends didn’t bother to hide their glances, openly appraising Cedric from head to toe. “You’ve got good taste, Stella. He’s ridiculously handsome—built, too. A real catch.”

“Shame, though,” another chimed in with a wry smile. “Men like that are meant to be admired from afar, not owned.”

Stella took a sip of her wine. Some people, she mused, were easy to forget if you never saw them again. But when Cedric was right there in front of her, that old spark of longing caught her off guard all over again.

At the card table, Linus pushed back his chair after losing two hands in a row and bleeding chips. He made his way to the couch, eyeing Cedric’s empty stare. With a swift motion, he snatched the whiskey from Cedric’s hand. “Trying to drink yourself to death tonight?”

Cedric’s eyes, clouded with alcohol, lifted to meet his. There was a strange, muddled clarity there.

“You’re always the most clear-headed one here. I don’t buy that you’ve got something you can’t get past,” Linus said, then gestured for his secretary. “Bring her in.”

The secretary ushered in a woman—her makeup subtle, her features arranged in a delicate, quietly alluring way. She wore a smart blazer and blouse, every detail of her appearance seemingly modeled after someone else.

From head to toe, she was an imitation—enough so that even Hilton, watching from the sidelines, drew in a sharp breath. If you only saw her from behind, you’d swear it was her.

Linus clinked his glass with Hilton’s, then tipped it toward the woman’s porcelain-pale face. “She came to my office for a consult the other day. I thought she looked familiar. When she heard we were friends, she said she’s always admired you, Cedric. So I brought her here tonight. Thought you should meet.”

Cedric didn’t react, just fixed his dark gaze on the woman’s face.

Linus knew he’d chosen well. Waving her forward, he said, “What are you waiting for? Go introduce yourself.”

The woman glided over, but as she approached Cedric, she felt a chill radiate from him.

He watched her in silence, his eyes cold but with a faint, unreadable smile.

She wasn’t sure if that hint of a smile was dangerous, but she sensed he was at least mildly interested. Pouring him half a glass, she murmured, “Mr. Royce, maybe take it easy. Too much alcohol isn’t good for you.”

Earlier, while waiting outside, she’d overheard Stella and her friends gossiping about Cedric. They said men like him, all raw energy and unresolved tension, were impossible to forget—even after a single night. And that Yuria woman? Didn’t know how lucky she was.

She had no idea who this “Ms. Jardin” was—just that Linus had told her to style herself after her.

Cedric’s lips curled into a faint smirk. Tilting her chin up with his fingers, he studied her face. “What did you just call me?”

Up close, her eyes were soft and obedient—a convincing imitation, but deep down, she was nothing like the real thing.

She purred again, “Mr. Royce.”

Cedric felt a flicker of disappointment. The resemblance was skin-deep at best, but it was enough for him to let her stay.

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