The Seductive Pretty Boy of the Matriarchal World-Chapter 63: Taken Away

Chapter 63: Taken Away

Giselle Frost drove with flawless precision. Even at high speed the ride stayed smooth, never once jolting the passenger into alarm. In what felt like no time at all the sleek sedan had left the city limits behind, the skyline shrinking in the rear-view mirror.

Elias Kane tilted his head slightly and stole his eighteenth furtive glance at her.

The next instant Giselle turned, sea-blue eyes locking onto him. "If you have something to say, say it."

He had thought his movements were subtle. They weren’t. Every single glance had been caught in her peripheral vision.

Elias startled, then sat ramrod straight like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, pretending nothing had happened.

Giselle’s tone remained flat. "Not going to speak?"

She faced forward again, gaze fixed on the road.

If he refused to talk, she would not coax him. He was not worth the effort.

Elias seemed to sense exactly that. After a long hesitation he finally gathered the courage. "Um... thank you."

"And?"

Giselle didn’t spare him another look. The indifferent reply might as well have said, You spent the entire drive working up to a simple thank-you?

Elias thought, Heh. Keep playing the ice queen. One of these days I’ll land a solid punch.

If this weren’t still the early stage of winning her over—the most critical phase—he would never have wasted so many micro-expressions building a believable persona.

"And..." Elias bit his lower lip, the motion delicate. "Later I’ll explain to everyone that we’re not... that kind of relationship."

"No need."

Elias blinked, caught off guard.

Giselle’s hands tightened on the wheel, her eyes growing a shade colder. "I said there’s no need. They won’t believe you anyway."

People only ever believed what they wanted to believe. The truth never mattered.

She had understood that truth for a long time.

Elias’s voice turned anxious. "Then what should we do..."

"The innocent will clear their own names." Her voice carried that cool, crystalline quality that somehow soothed even while it cut. "Let them think whatever they want. Nothing lasts forever; time will wear this down. Eventually they’ll forget the whole thing."

"Until then, you have me."

Elias studied her profile. Her expression stayed perfectly neutral, as though she had no idea how deeply those words could stir a young man’s heart.

No wonder the original Elias in this world had fallen for her without hesitation. A woman like Giselle Frost possessed a magnetism that drove men to madness by nature.

He considered whether he should let his eyes glaze over in apparent infatuation, then decided against it. Even faked, it felt too nauseating.

"Yeah," he answered softly. He turned to watch the scenery blurring past the window and murmured, "Where are we going?"

Giselle’s reply was brief. "You’ll see when we arrive. It’s close."

True to her word, they reached the destination in minutes. A group of people was already waiting.

Giselle parked, glanced sideways at Elias to confirm he was unbuckling, then opened her own door.

The moment she stepped out, a line of tall, strikingly handsome young men bowed in perfect unison. "Welcome, Miss Frost!"

Elias climbed out and froze at the display.

The young men turned toward him, bodies still slightly inclined, but words seemed to fail them.

Sloane Sinclair gave a light laugh from the side. "Just call him Young Master Elias."

"Welcome, Young Master Elias!" the group chorused, voices soft and deferential.

The title sent a rush of satisfaction through Elias. He could barely remember the last world in which he had been addressed as "young master." To experience it again in this one, and in such a manner, felt unexpectedly pleasing.

It even made Sloane Sinclair look a little less irritating in his eyes.

On the surface, however, he appeared completely flustered—eyes still red-rimmed, gazing at Giselle in helpless appeal.

The car door slammed shut with a solid thud. Giselle’s tall, slender frame alone radiated authority. She swept the group with one cool glance. "What is the meaning of this?"

Sloane shrugged. "Nothing I could do about it. Your mother called me personally and ordered me to treat your little lover well."

Elias pressed his lips into a thin white line, expression outwardly distressed while inwardly utterly calm.

Such a low-tier power move.

If he removed his glasses and dropped the seal, none of these boys’ combined looks would even register against his own.

Giselle stared at Sloane, catching the faint thread of retaliation in her friend’s actions. It was payback for being dragged around for an entire day and night.

Giselle’s eyes lifted a fraction. "Dismiss them."

"Then dismiss them," Sloane said casually, waving a hand. The handsome young men scattered at once, though a few cast lingering glances of regret and envy toward Giselle.

Any girl with her status was someone worth attaching themselves to.

Giselle had zero interest. She noted the way Elias’s shoulders had already relaxed, then asked, "Is the room ready?"

Sloane nodded. "Of course it is. Come on, I’ll show you."

Elias and Giselle followed her into the opulent hotel attached to the sprawling entertainment complex. A venue this size naturally included guest accommodations built to the highest standard. Though the footprint was smaller than a conventional five-star, every detail—marble floors, crystal lighting, private elevators—surpassed them.

Sloane pushed open a set of double doors and swept her arm in an elegant arc. "The most luxurious presidential suite. Not bad, right?"

Giselle’s brows drew together, about to speak, but Sloane cut her off smoothly. "Hey, it’s not just one bed. There are three completely separate bedrooms—more than enough for four people—and they’re fully independent. The only shared space is the entrance. Everything else stays private."

Elias didn’t bother glancing at Giselle’s darkening expression. He simply scanned the suite and gave a small, satisfied nod.

Perfect. Makes it easy to slip into her room later.

While he was still taking in the layout, Giselle suddenly grabbed Sloane’s arm and pulled her a short distance away, far enough that Elias couldn’t overhear. Her voice dropped to a frigid whisper. "What exactly did you tell her?"

Sloane knew "her" meant Victoria Frost, but she still used the respectful title out of caution. "I didn’t say much. I was still trying to come up with a cover story when your mother called. She didn’t ask questions—she just told me to treat your little lover well..."

"We are not that kind of relationship," Giselle said coldly.

Sloane didn’t bother arguing. "Yeah, yeah, sure."

The tone was pure placation—whatever you say.

She knew Giselle too well. Aside from Lucien Hart, no man had ever made it past her walls. Yet here was Elias—first the midnight drive, now bringing him straight to this place. Even Victoria Frost had heard and issued specific instructions. And Giselle still insisted there was nothing between them?

All Sloane could do was nod along. "Right, right, right."