His large, slender hands wrapped around her foot, kneading it gently. The dull ache was faint, but impossible to ignore.

"Don’t."

Chloe Reed refused, her expression cold.

Walker Grant’s handsome brows knitted together, and his narrow phoenix eyes fixed on her with a dark intensity. "Then what do you suggest?"

Chloe Reed averted her gaze. The dim lighting softened the contours of her profile, but did nothing to thaw her icy demeanor.

"Let’s not talk about it. Things are fine the way they are, with us staying out of each other’s way."

’They weren’t getting a divorce for now, but she couldn’t go back to the way things were at the start.’

"Sss..."

A piercing pain suddenly shot from a spot on her foot. She sucked in a sharp breath and glared at him. "Did you do that on purpose?"

Walker Grant said evenly, "It’s your body that’s unwell. That’s why you’re in pain."

Chloe Reed struggled. "Let go of me! Get another technician. You don’t know what you’re doing."

’It hurt so much!’

"Chloe, darling, it’s supposed to hurt!"

At that moment, Iris Yates chimed in from the next bed over. She wore an expression that said "I’m an expert on this," and added, "That deadbeat scumbag might be useless, but his grip is surprisingly strong. At least your foot is responding. This guy over here is just tickling me. I’m about to fall asleep."

Nathaniel Monroe: "???"

His eyes widened slightly, and he pressed down harder. "You think I’m tickling you? How’s this for pressure, huh?"

Iris Yates sighed. "You haven’t eaten, have you?"

Nathaniel Monroe: "..."

’This is intolerable!’

He gritted his teeth, glaring at her foot as if he could bore a hole through it with his eyes.

"Is this enough for you now?"

Iris Yates said with her eyes closed, "It’s passable, I guess."

Nathaniel Monroe: "..."

He glanced around, spotted a tool, and grabbed it.

The next second, Iris Yates yelped, nearly launching herself off the massage bed.

"What are you using?!"

Nathaniel Monroe retorted, "How’s the pressure now?"

Iris Yates tried to flee, but Nathaniel Monroe wouldn’t let her go. "Oh no you don’t. You said it wasn’t enough pressure before, didn’t you? I bet it’s enough now, huh? Feels good, doesn’t it?"

Iris Yates: "OW! OW! OW!"

...

With a deadpan expression, Chloe Reed averted her eyes from the scene and looked at Walker Grant, still working on her foot.

’So, he was actually being gentle with me?’

The wailing and howling in the private room didn’t stop for a moment.

Iris Yates cursed, "You damn lackey! I bet you’re just using this to get back at me! All I did was call that deadbeat scumbag out a few times! And isn’t he a scumbag?"

Nathaniel Monroe simply arched a brow. "You’re the one who said I was going too easy. Aren’t I just trying to make you happy?"

Iris Yates shot him a glare, gritting her teeth, and then ignored him completely.

The men left first, leaving only Iris Yates and Chloe Reed in the private room.

Iris Yates limped over to her. "I never thought that deadbeat scumbag knew how to give a massage. I wonder if he used to do this for that bitch, Sunny Reed?"

Chloe Reed shot her a blank look. "I suddenly feel like chopping my foot off."

Iris Yates quickly clapped a hand over her mouth. "I was just running my mouth! Don’t take it seriously!"

The two women changed their clothes and stepped out of the room. They saw the men standing a short distance away, talking to the club owner, who wore a fawning smile.

As they drew closer, they overheard the conversation.

Walker Grant’s voice was casual. "Go ahead and blacklist her. Don’t accept her business anymore."

The club owner nodded. "Of course, Mr. Grant."

Chloe Reed’s brows furrowed instantly. "Who are you blacklisting?"

Walker Grant turned to her, his hand reaching out naturally to take hers. "It’s getting late. Shall we go home?"