Outcast Queen: Her Return from Hell novel Chapter 125

"Hey, kid!" A drunk guy nearby interrupted aggressively. "Are you new here? Everyone knows Ian has his own personal walking wallet. You don't need to ask. Put it on Ms. Sterling's tab!"

"Exactly!" another friend chimed in. "The heiress of the Sterling family is Ian's biggest groupie. Whenever we come out, she's always tripping over herself to foot the bill. Honestly, letting her pay for him is a privilege. He's doing her a favor!"

Ian soaked in the flattery, a smug smile tugging at his lips. He thrived on being worshipped, and he especially loved how pathetic Penelope's devotion was. Moving lazily, he pulled out his phone and dialed her number.

The first call rang endlessly until it went to voicemail.

Ian frowned. Penelope usually answered his calls on the first ring. Was she actually ignoring him?

A flash of irritation sparked in his chest. He dialed again.

Still nothing. Just an automated message.

Blind rage flared inside him.

*She actually dares to ignore my calls?*

Ian's face darkened completely. Between the humiliation he suffered from Phoenix earlier and now being ignored by his own "walking ATM," his temper violently spiraled out of control.

He slammed his phone down onto the glass table, making the liquor bottles rattle.

His good mood was entirely ruined. *Penelope, let's see if I ever talk to you again after this!*

"Looks like the 'mobile bank vault' found herself a new boy toy, huh?" Lennox Lane, sitting in the corner, flashed a sleazy grin, clearly lacking any sense of self-preservation. "I mean, Penelope is gorgeous and loaded..."

"Shut your damn mouth!"

Ian grabbed his whiskey glass and hurled it violently at the floor. The sharp crack of shattering glass plunged the VIP suite into dead silence.

"Say one more word and I'll throw you out myself!"

Lennox flinched, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. He quickly plastered on a strained, wrinkled smile. "Just joking, man. I have a big mouth. Don't take it seriously..."

"Come on, Lennox, you know Penelope's been chasing Ian for three years. Everyone knows how obsessed she is. There's no way she has a new guy," another friend quickly stepped in to smooth things over, giving Ian an out. "She's probably just tied up with something. Give it five minutes. The second she sees the missed calls, she'll be crying and calling you back."

"Right, right, exactly. Why would she ever let go of a top-tier catch like you?"

Listening to their noisy groveling, Ian waved his hand in annoyance. He pulled out his own black card and tossed it at the server.

The POS machine beeped sharply, a sound that felt like it was slicing right through his flesh. His chest tightened at the expense. *Penelope, if you don't reimburse me double for this, I'm never forgiving you.*

"Come on, keep drinking! Keep dancing!" Ian dropped back onto the sofa, throwing his head back and downing a massive gulp of whiskey, desperate to drown out his irritation.

Just then, his phone lit up, the screen flashing as a ringtone pierced the air.

"See! Told you she'd call back!"

"Make her sweat, Ian! Don't answer until the third try. Teach her a lesson."

Ian raised an eyebrow, having already planned to do exactly that. He purposely ignored the vibrating phone, turning to flirt with the hostess beside him instead.

But the phone was relentless. It rang, stopped, and immediately started ringing again.

Figuring she had suffered enough, Ian lazily picked up the phone and glanced at the screen.

The blazing red 'Trending' icon burned his eyes. The top two hashtags were a waking nightmare:

#IanPrescottPlayboy #IanPrescottScandal

His hands shaking violently, he clicked on the hashtag. Nine high-definition photos filled his screen—shots of him in the VIP suite, his shirt unbuttoned, draped over women, looking like an absolute degenerate.

"No... how is this possible?! This is fake! It has to be photoshopped!" The room began to spin. He had spent years painstakingly crafting his image as the pure, untouchable "National Heartthrob."

How could it all collapse overnight?!

Was it that server from earlier?!

"Ian, if you still want a career in this industry, get your ass back to the agency right now!"

The line went dead.

Ian stared at his phone, his mind completely blank, feeling as if his soul had just been ripped out of his body.

"Ian, what's wrong? Was it Penelope?"

"Forget about her, man. Let's keep going..." The woman beside him tried to press herself against him again.

"Get the hell out!!!"

Ian snapped back to reality, roaring at the top of his lungs. He violently shoved the woman away, stumbling over his own feet as he bolted out of the VIP room.

He left a room full of utterly confused people behind, none of them having any idea what had just happened.