Enchanted Nightfall: Falling for Destiny

At midnight in Zion City Roxanne finally came to her senses in the

Quintessa glanced over at Tyrone, “What’s wrong? Do you think I was too harsh? Do you think, just because I wasn’t really hurt that night, there was no need to be so vicious and leave no way out for others?”

Nope

Tyrone’s response was crisp, without a moment’s hesitation.

He wasn’t exactly a naive person, and he knew all too well that the entertainment industry was a shark tank. If you get played, and you wanted revenge, you either go big or go home. You should make sure they never get a chance to rise again.

Quintessa’s move eamed Tyrone’s appreciation–her actions were decisive and without hesitation.

If he were in her shoes, he’d have done the same.

All Quintessa did was merely return to Roxanne what she had intended to do to her. Life’s like that – tit for tat, and no one’s in a position to judge.

Quintessa was fiercely independent, with a cunning and ruthless streak, and she lacked nothing. Every inch of her was thorny, yet utterly captivating.

When she was schemed against or bullied, she never thought about seeking help from anyone, not even him. She didn’t lean on him, and she orchestrated her entire revenge flawlessly on her own.

Watching her self–reliance, Tyrone felt an odd pang in his ches

But he admired Quintessa immensely. Who would thin

to lace a toothbrush with drugs? Even if the police wanted to collect evidence and suspected the toothbrush, after being used, it would be cleaned thoroughly. What evidence could there possibly be left?

Tyrone watched Quintessa silently, this woman who was terrifyingly lethal, yet irresistibly addictive.

Tyrone’s gaze was odd, making Quintessa bristle, “Nope? Then what are you thinking about?”

Tyrone scratched his nose, “I’m just thinking, man, I better not offend you, in case one day you decide to poison my toothbrush.”

Quintessa’s lips curled, “But you already have.”

Tyrone said, “Mercy, please.”

Her smile deepened, “Do you think I will?”

In the dim light of the car, they both looked into each other’s eyes.

Tyrone was the first to look away, “After all this late–night fuss, let’s just go back and get some sleep.”

But Tyrone hadn’t anticipated upon returning to the hotel, Quintessa would pick up her suitcase, ready to bolt.

Her things were all packed, ready for a swift exit post–revenge. Now that the matter was resolved, staying here could lead to unwanted suspicion. This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Upon hearing Quintessa intended to leave, Tyrone exclaimed, “Damn, it’s the middle of the night! Where the heck do you think you’re going?”

Leave? At 11 PM?

She had him wait around for two days, even roped him into distributing those racy call cards for her, and now she was ditching him?

This woman, truly, flipped faster than a pancake, burned bridges quicker than a wildfire, and was more infuriating than a politician’s promise.

Quintessa glanced around the room to ensure nothing was left behind, “I’m heading back to Emberbrook.”

Tyrone was grinding his teeth, “This late, do you have a plane ticket? How are you planning to train it back alone? Quintessa, are you playing me for a fool?”

With an amused look, Quintessa replied, “How am I going back? You’re driving, of course. What, you don’t want to? If not, then forget it-”

Before she could finish, Tyrone was at her side in a flash and grabbed her suitcase, “Let’s go then.”

Quintessa’s lips twitched, marveling at how quickly he changed his mind.

confines of the local police station.

The situation was quite unsavory. Rosmane was a well–known actress, and this incident was a major blow to the reputation of Zion City’s film and television base. Therefore, the officers decided to interrogate her right away to get to the bottom of things.

Roxanne was still flushed. She appeared confused and couldn’t quite grasp what was happening as she blankly stared at the two

ficers sitting across from her a man and a woman.

Both officer looked serious. Then, the female officer broke the silence. “Your name, please”

Confused, Roxanne asked, “why am I here?”

Her mind was a muddled mess. She felt uncomfortable all over, particularly down below. She had no idea what had happened or why there were two police officers in front of her, and why was she in handcuffs.

Roxanne tried to piece together the events, but the memories were hazy and unclear. She was no innocent woman, and given her physical state, she had a guess at what might have happened, but the details eluded her. Why couldn’t she remember?

She had been violated, but why couldn’t she remember?

The female officer slammed her hand on the table, “Name!”

Roxanne flinched. “Roxanne.”

The male officer compared a driver’s license to Roxanne’s face. “Is this yours?”

She nodded. “Yes, yes, it is!”

He turned to his partner. “Note it down, her real name’s Cici Ferber.”

Roxanne’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. She was born Cici Ferber, but who could use such a plain name in the entertainment industry? Her agent had given her a stage name, and she’d been too busy and lived too far from her hometown to update her official documents.

The female officer cut in, “If your name is Cici, stick to that. We are the police, not the tabloids.”

Then she asked, “Age?”

Roxanne, panicked, said, “24. Officer, may I ask what crime have I committed?”

The female officer replied sarcastically, “You don’t know?”

Roxanne shook her head; she truly had no clue.

The officer recited out a number. “137xxxxxxx, is this your phone number?”

Roxanne nodded, “Yes, it’s mine.”

The female officer held up a lurid call card with Roxanne’s number on it. “Then there’s no mistake. You’re suspected of prostitution and were caught in the act.”

Roxanne went pale and screamed, “Prostitution? I–I didn’t! I’m an actress, a celebrity! How could I possibly be involved in such a thing? I’m well–known; am I out of my mind?”

The female officer just smirked without a word. They knew all too well how messy the entertainment industry could be. Were there few celebrities caught in Zion City for solicitation, drug use, or gambling?

The female officer continued, “It’s not the fall that’s scary; it’s the refusal to repent. Better to quickly explain yourself and seek leniency.”

Roxanne, desperate, tried to rise several times but was held down by the handcuffs. She was frantic, yelling, “I’m innocent! What do you want me to confess? I don’t know anything. There’s been a mistake; you’ve got the wrong person.”