He Wouldn't Claim Me — Another Man Did-Chapter 24 - 22: Pimping

Isla Prescott rarely wore makeup. She had fair skin and bold, striking features, so she looked defined even when barefaced.

Today, to make a good impression on the leaders of the song and dance troupe, she had put on a full face of makeup.

Isla Prescott walked out of the dressing room and happened to run into Yara Jennings.

"Isabelle, why are you so dressed up today? You look amazing."

Isla Prescott was just about to answer when Wendy Bell came down from the second floor. "Isabelle, let’s go."

Yara Jennings turned to look at Wendy Bell. "Wendy, where are you two going?"

"We have a social engagement."

Yara Jennings’s expression changed instantly. "Wendy, aren’t you playing favorites with Isabelle a little too much?"

Between the previous company anniversary performance and today’s social engagement, Wendy Bell’s resources were all skewed toward Isla Prescott. This left Yara Jennings, also a newcomer, feeling a great sense of injustice.

"Don’t cause a scene." Wendy Bell’s sharp glare froze Yara Jennings in her tracks.

"Wendy..."

Wendy Bell ignored Yara Jennings, instead giving Isla Prescott a look that told her to follow.

The two walked out of the song and dance troupe’s main entrance, where a black Toyota Alphard was waiting.

After they got in the car, Wendy Bell took out her phone and turned toward Isla Prescott.

"Isabelle, smile."

Isla Prescott smiled reflexively.

Wendy Bell snapped a photo and sent it to an unknown recipient.

Something felt strange to Isla Prescott. "Colonel White..."

"Don’t be nervous. The client’s liaison asked for a photo of you, so I sent one for him to see." Wendy Bell said with a smile, quickly replying to a message on her phone. "Your makeup is exquisite today. They’re already praising you as the troupe’s top beauty in recent years. I’m guessing they’ll be even more satisfied once they see you in person."

’Even though they were compliments, something about Wendy Bell’s phrasing gave Isla the unsettling feeling she was being objectified.’

She couldn’t help but tense up.

"Colonel White, should we head out?" the driver asked.

"Let’s go. To the usual place."

"Yes."

The Alphard pulled away slowly. It had just passed the first traffic light and was about to make a turn when a pink Maserati suddenly came speeding toward it. With a loud CRASH, the two vehicles collided.

Isla Prescott and Wendy Bell were in the back row. Even though both were wearing seatbelts, inertia still flung them forward into the front seats.

Dizzy and disoriented, Isla Prescott was thoroughly shaken.

"What the hell happened?!" Wendy Bell raged.

"Sorry, Colonel White. That car just crashed right into us. I couldn’t get out of the way."

"Get out and check."

"Yes."

The driver got out, and the owner of the Maserati pushed her door open and emerged as well.

It was Annabelle Leighton.

Annabelle Leighton was a vision of ostentatious beauty in her brown leather skirt and combat boots.

She strode to the side of the Alphard and knocked on the left window.

Wendy Bell lowered the window, her face breaking into a smile. "Annie, what are you doing here?"

"I’m not here for you." Annabelle Leighton’s eyes bypassed Wendy Bell as she impatiently pointed to Isla Prescott on the other side. "Isla Prescott, get out!"

"Annie, what’s going on?" Wendy Bell said, shielding Isla Prescott and playing the part of a peacemaker. "Let’s talk about this calmly."

"Isla Prescott, get out of the car!"

Isla Prescott was utterly baffled, but she opened the door and got out anyway.

Annabelle Leighton rounded the front of the car to stand face-to-face with her.

"Miss Leighton, what is this about?" Isla Prescott asked.

Instead of answering, Annabelle Leighton reached out and yanked Isla Prescott’s hair.

"Have you no shame? How dare you try to seduce my boyfriend!"

--

Isla Prescott was momentarily stunned.

’But it wasn’t Annabelle Leighton’s accusation that stunned her. It was the fact that... why didn’t it hurt at all when she yanked her hair?’

"You..." She looked back at Annabelle Leighton, her eyes full of confusion.

Annabelle Leighton winked at Isla. Taking advantage of the chaos, she whispered so only Isla could hear, "Fall down. Pretend you’re in pain. Quick!"

Before Isla Prescott could process what was happening, she was "violently" shoved to the ground by Annabelle Leighton.

Annabelle Leighton began screaming at her, "You little bitch, don’t think I didn’t see you! Yesterday, outside the troupe’s building, you were making eyes at my boyfriend and trying to get his number! What, you think you can just snatch him up because he’s rich and handsome? Why don’t you take a good long look in the mirror? Do you really think you’re worthy of him?"

Her boyfriend was Shane Sterling.

’But I made sure to keep my distance from Shane Sterling yesterday.’

"I didn’t! Miss Leighton, has someone been feeding you lies?"

"Half the people at the troupe saw you! You were practically hanging off my boyfriend!"

Having heard the gist of the argument from the car, Wendy Bell finally got out to mediate.

"Annie, there must be some misunderstanding. I’m sure Isabelle isn’t that kind of person."

"She’s only been here a few days! How well could you possibly know her?" Annabelle Leighton retorted, pointing at Isla Prescott. "She sent my boyfriend private photos late at night. Is that also a misunderstanding?"

’Private photos?’

’This is getting ridiculous!’

"I didn’t..."

"Shut up!" Annabelle Leighton shot her a meaningful glare, silently telling her not to speak.

’Isla Prescott was completely lost now. What on earth was this heiress trying to pull?’

"Let’s go!" Annabelle Leighton hauled Isla Prescott up from the ground. "Still acting tough, are we? Fine! I’ll take you to my boyfriend right now, and we’ll have a little face-to-face confrontation! We’ll see if he’s really willing to dump me for a woman like you!"

Seeing Annabelle Leighton about to drag Isla Prescott away, Wendy Bell hurried forward to stop her. "Annie, Isabelle..."

"What? Are you trying to protect her, Colonel White?" Annabelle Leighton narrowed her eyes at Wendy Bell. "Are you really going to make an enemy of me for this little vixen?"

Although Wendy Bell was the head of the troupe, her family background was nothing compared to Annabelle Leighton’s. She certainly wasn’t about to make an enemy of Annabelle for Isla Prescott’s sake.

"No, no, that’s not what I meant. It’s just..."

"Get out of the way!"

Annabelle Leighton looked ready to tear down anyone or anything that stood in her way.

Wendy Bell weighed her options and decided to step aside.

Isla Prescott was shoved by Annabelle Leighton into the pink Maserati with its crumpled hood.

Though the Maserati was wounded, its engine still roared to life with impressive power. Annabelle Leighton whipped the car around and sped off in the opposite direction from the Alphard.

In the car, Isla Prescott sat up straight, no longer able to contain her confusion.

"Miss Leighton, what in the world is going on?"

Annabelle Leighton glanced in the rearview mirror, and only after confirming that the Alphard wasn’t following did she let out a long sigh of relief.

"Shane Sterling called me last night before he left on his business trip. He told me to keep an eye on you. This desperate plan was all I could come up with. Sorry."

"What do you mean?" Isla Prescott was more confused than ever.

"I don’t know how Wendy Bell talked you into attending this social engagement tonight, but I can tell you that if I hadn’t intervened, you would have been sacrificed by her to some major client from the Aevis Group."

"What?"

"Trading sex for power. Ever heard of it?"

A chill went down Isla Prescott’s spine.

"You mean... Colonel White, she..."

"Wendy Bell is nothing but a pimp."