“Do you know how to strip-dance?” Trenton Smith asked Norris Moore.
Norris tilted her head to the side, “Would Mr.
Smith like to see?”
Trenton gave a faint smile: “Since President Foster wants to watch, why don’t you show us?”
Norris stared at his carefree smile, an uncontrollable expression on her face.
She turned her head and gave a soft chuckle before saying, “Alright.”
Strip dancing had been fun for her before but now, it felt humiliating.
Long since having lost her dignity, she had no choice but to endure the insults of Norton Foster and Trenton Smith.
She stood up from her chair and selected the song “Pour Some Sugar On Me”.
With sultry music streaming from the speakers, Norris walked onto the stage and tossed her hair.
The light seemed to blur due to her movement.
The smile on her lips was bewitching, her eyes provocative.
Norris chose a white knee-length dress for the occasion.
Open in the back and laced together in a cross pattern, it was both sexy and innocent.
The elegant lace revealed the dainty butterfly bones of her slender back.
Any exposed back attire would undoubtedly seem enticing on her.
She tossed her long hair over her shoulder, a kinky piece sticking to her full, crimson lips.
She had barely moved yet her sultry charisma was… irresistible.
The air seemed thicker with her subtle smile.
Philip Shaw watched Norris who was performing on stage while leaning comfortably on the sofa.
He gave a light laugh.
No wonder Trenton Smith was still infatuated with her after all this time.
Any man would find such a nymph hard to forget.
Moving to the beat, Norris elegantly walked toward Norton Foster.
She straddled his lap, her body as supple as a cat.
Norton’s face was grim.
“Young Brother Foster, this dress is bothering me, could you help me untie my laces?”
She leaned in close to his face, her red lips next to his ear, a sultry smile on her face, yet her tone was chillingly cold, “Ingrate.”
The last word was only clearly heard by her and Norton.
Norton suddenly changed his expression.
Just as he was about to react, a glass of wine was thrown at Norris.
Amelia Miller was the one who threw the glass.
With a hard expression on her face, Amelia tries to get up and leave but is stopped by Norton, “Amelia.”
His voice was low.
Amelia turned around, her eyes cold.
The intimidating aura around Norton Foster mellowed.
He smiled gently and caressed Amelia’s back, “I was wrong, Amelia.
I apologize.”
Amelia glanced at Norris who was drenched in wine, retracted her gaze and pursed her lips, “I want to go home.”
Norton nodded, pushed Norris away, stood up from the couch, and left the room, hand in hand with Amelia.
Norris stood alone.
She looked at the back of Amelia and Norton as they left.
Her eyes felt hot as though tear would fall any moment.
She took a deep breath.
Suddenly, a suit jacket smelling of manly cologne was tossed at her, covering her head.
Trenton Smith walked over, grasped her wrist firmly, and pulled her towards the exit.