Psycho villain I Raised Wants to Marry Me

Chapter70 – Go after her!

Phoenix smirked and picked up a bowling ball. “Let me show you how it’s done. Then I’ll have them bring a lighter one for you.”“No need,” Atticus replied coolly. “I’ll use the same as yours.”

Phoenix arched a brow. She didn’t mock him or question it—just handed him a ball with a casual shrug. “Okay then.”ight, frantically dialing Phoenix.

The line connected quickly. Phoenix’s voice came through, teasing and carefree. “Don’t make the kid drink too much, Clarissa’s gonna scold us when she gets back—”

“Phoenix!” Clarissa’s voice cracked with panic. “Someone’s after me!”

“What?” Phoenix’s tone dropped instantly.

“I’m out in the hallway, near the back exit—I ran away from the bowling alley. There’s a bar here—called…” Her voice cut off suddenly, followed by a high-pitched yelp.

“Clarissa! Clarissa—shit!” Phoenix stood frozen, her face turning cold and sharp like a blade.

Back in the hallway, Clarissa had been caught. One of the men had yanked the phone from her hand and slammed it to the ground, shattering it into useless pieces.

“Run again, sweetheart. I want you,” one of them sneered, breath hot with liquor and lust.

Clarissa stood still, chest heaving. Fear twisted in her gut, but she forced herself to swallow it down. Her expression slowly changed—panic melting into a slow, sultry smile.

The men froze. Even in that dim light, the curve of her lips and the glint in her eyes made their blood boil.

“Damn, look at that face…”

“She’s even hotter up close.”

Clarissa’s voice dropped, low and silken. “You guys seem really into me.”

They nodded like dogs. She laughed softly, the sound teasing, laced with honey. “Honestly? After leaving Dorian... I haven’t had a real man in a while.”

A few jaws dropped.

“I wouldn’t mind... finding someone to satisfy me.”

The men were practically panting now.

Clarissa let her gaze sweep slowly over them, then tilted her head. “But... there’s so many of you. I can’t possibly handle you all at once, can I?” Her tone was playful, wicked. “One-on-one is just... more my style.”

The atmosphere shifted—now the men were looking at each other, no longer allies, but rivals.

She took a single step forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. “How about this… You boys have a little contest. A drinking contest. Whoever drinks the most, I’ll go with him tonight.”

Their eyes lit up.

She smirked, watching greed blur into competition. Behind her calm smile, she was counting the seconds. Buying time. Phoenix better be close.

The men exchanged hesitant glances, unsure.

Clarissa arched a brow, her voice cold and mocking. “What’s the matter? Scared now? I, Clarissa, don’t play games I can’t handle. Or… are you just all talk?”

That hit them square in the pride.

“Hell no!” one of them barked. “You’re mine tonight—don’t you forget that!”

Their eyes burned with barely restrained lust, like wolves circling a cornered deer. Clarissa’s skin crawled under their gazes. One of them had his hand clamped possessively on her shoulder, and every fiber of her body wanted to recoil—but she held still.

“Let’s go. Back inside,” the man growled.

Swallowing her disgust, she let herself be led back into the low-end bar’s cramped, smoky lounge.

She sat in the corner, detached and quiet, watching as the men began pouring drinks, challenging each other in a reckless show of bravado. Their cheeks flushed red under the influence of alcohol, and their laughter got louder, more unhinged.

She hated men like this. Every word, every leer—they made her stomach turn. Even the Clarissa from her past life wouldn’t have wasted a second on them. The original Clarissa certainly wouldn’t have.

She glanced around. The club was huge—four bars in total, tiered by exclusivity. This one was the lowest, meant for the lower-tier rich and petty players. Her phone had been shattered earlier, and she hadn’t had time to share her exact location.

Damn it… She chewed the inside of her cheek. Phoenix, please—don’t start searching from the luxury suites. Start low… work your way up… hurry.

Not far away, in a booth near the corner, Darkwood draped an arm around June. He lifted a glass and handed it to her with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.