Game Over No Second Chances novel Chapter 358

"Were you scared by a shadow?"

Serena gently comforted the kitten, her soft voice barely above a whisper. Her slender fingers smoothed the fur that had puffed up in fright, massaging lightly with her fingertips.

In just a few moments, Snuggle had melted into a little marshmallow in her arms, mewing softly and giving her fingers a few tiny, harmless nibbles—more like teething than a real bite.

The night breeze had grown cooler.

Serena stepped into the dim corridor, cradling the kitten in her arms as she made her way back to her room.

In the corner, a shadowy figure lingered silently, only turning to leave once she was safely inside, surrounded by light.

Back in her room, a new message popped up on her phone.

Ruth had sent her an address. "It's a bar opened by a friend from the orchestra. It's still pretty quiet since it's new. Drinks are half off. See if you like it."

It was clearly a spot handpicked for a cozy little birthday gathering. The music must be great or Ruth wouldn't recommend it otherwise.

Serena replied, "Sure."

That same night, Ruth booked a booth and a private room under her own name. They could sit outside and chat or head inside to dance and let loose.

It was a perfect setup.

But less than ten minutes later, this news reached Cole's phone.

He had just shaken off the clingy Sarah and was now lounging alone in a private room at a club. When he saw the notification about Ruth's reservation, he curled his lips into a sneer.

Last time, he had asked Sarah to help him get Serena. Who would've thought she'd swap herself in and end up in his bed?

This time, he figured he'd use someone else instead.

After all, Hugh couldn't give Serena children. But if he could win her over—or better yet, get her pregnant—if she bore a Larson family child, then Serena would only ever belong to him.

"Mr. Larson, she's here." Tara pushed the door open, placing several shots of strong liquor on the table.

She didn't raise her head, waiting silently for instruction.

Wendy stood behind her, now dressed in a clean, form-fitting camisole dress.

The tight fabric couldn't hide her curves, nor the fullness of her figure. Her face, though, was pure—those big eyes blinked with confusion.