He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 112

"I ran into Mr. Schmidt at the plaza earlier, and he gave it to me."

Ottilie had already made up her mind—next time she saw Lachlan, she would suggest he wear a different cologne.

"What is it?" Yorath tapped his finger against the wrapping.

"I don't know, I haven't opened it yet."

"Open it now."

"There's no need. Bringing it back was just a polite formality. I left it there and forgot to throw it out."

Yorath nodded, standing up, and tossed it straight into the trash can.

"Does this handle it?"

"It does." She didn't spare the gift a single glance.

He stepped closer, lifting a strand of her hair and twirling it around his finger.

"Tilly, Lachlan is not a good man. Stay away from him."

She smiled but said nothing.

Were there any good men in this industry?

There were only permanent interests.

Only what you could grasp in your own two hands was real.

Ottilie took a shower, then spread a makeshift bed out on the floor.

Yorath sat on the edge of the mattress, watching her work.

Once she was done, he shifted closer, sitting on the side of the bed nearest to her.

"I said I was going to give you a car. Why haven't you contacted Soren?"

"I don't need one right now," she replied.

His money wasn't something you could spend freely.

For every cent she took, he would demand ten times that amount back in flesh.

He didn't say another word, simply lying down with his back to her.

Ottilie sat on the floor for a moment before reaching up to kill the lights.

The next morning.

When she woke up, Yorath was already gone.

The trash can was completely empty.

Ottilie sent a text to Lachlan.

{The clothes were sacrificed.}

He replied instantly, {I'll send you another set.}

He didn't ask for an address or a phone number.

While handing out flyers at the plaza, a courier delivered the new clothes to her.

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