Oops My Toyboy Is A Hidden Tycoon

My Toyboy 8

Chapter 8

Cynthia spun around, her eyes locked on the tall figure of Jonathan walking away. It felt like a dark storm cloud rolled in wherever he passed. People nearby were frozen, captivated by his intense and cold aura, with respect, admiration, and even fear flickering in their eyes–his presence was intimidating.

‘No way could it be him, Cynthia thought. Her “Pretty Boy” wasn’t like that. He radiated warmth like a blazing summer day- wild, reckless, and a bit of a rogue. Every time they met, he’d flirt without holding back, tease her when she felt vulnerable, and charm her when she was ready to give up. In the bed, he was a master, skillfully playing with her feelings.

Cynthia had often poked his muscle and said, “You’re such a temptress.”

He smirked, grabbed her chin, and leaned in close to tease, “So, you’re the queen waiting to be seduced, huh?”

‘How could such a carefree, wild guy be the refined prince from Betrico?‘ Cynthia tried to convince herself otherwise, but deep down, unease settled in her heart.

As the gift–giving ceremony wrapped up, guests began to find their seats. Cynthia took hers early, scanning the room for Jonathan but finding nothing.

She sat quietly, pulling out her phone and scrolling through her contacts, and her finger hovering over the number labeled “Pretty Boy.” She stared at it, but somehow, she felt a strange shiver that she was being watched.

Suddenly, she looked up and locked eyes with a cold stare from the second floor–it was Jonathan. But from this distance, she couldn’t tell if he was looking at her. Still, her heart raced uncontrollably.

For some reason, she dialed the number, and Jonathan remained still, unmoving.

Thank goodness, it wasn’t him,’ she thought, feeling a wave of relief. Just as she looked down to hang up, the call connected.

At that moment, she glanced up again. Jonathan still stood there, but now he had a phone pressed to his ear.

Cynthia’s heart thumped louder than ever, pounding like a drum. With shaky fingers, she slowly brought her phone to her

ear.

A familiar low, icy voice came through, “Speak.”

Cynthia was silent, her gaze fixed on Jonathan, who was also staring at her. After a few agonizing seconds, she hung up directly. Just as she did, he tucked his phone into his pocket too.

Cynthia’s heart felt like it was squeezing tight. ‘How could this be? Jonathan is indeed the pretty boy I had kept for three. years!‘ She struggled to calm her racing thoughts and was suddenly carried back to their first meeting.

It was the night Filip took Lilian abroad. Her childhood friend, Naomi Sullivan, had dragged her to Dark Horse Club. That night, she had a lot to drink, and Naomi had ordered several male models. In a twist of fate, she ended up tangled up with

one of them.

The next morning, she woke up feeling regretful. But when she saw his almost otherworldly beauty, something stirred inside her. Filip was outside enjoying himself, so why should she wait around? Their marriage wasn’t as perfect as everyone believed.

So, she had written a check for 30 thousand dollars and teased, “How about I take care of you from now on?”

After that, they barely returned to the Dark Horse Club–she only had only gone there once. Instead, she gave the man a different address–Greenfield Villa.

For the past three years, he had been living in the villa. On top of that, she sent him a check for30 thousand dollars every month. Whenever she felt like it, she’d visit him late at night–sometimes it was after midnight. Every time, he would always

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find a way to make her smile,

It was almost like they had had a secret deal. They never talked out anything serious, just their feelings. They never asked about each other’s families or where they came from. All that mattered was the fun they had together.

He was the wild, rebellious side of Cynthia’s life. When she realized that this wild ride was getting out of control, she decided it was time to end it.

She had thought they could go back to their separate lives and never see each other again. But then she discovered that the prey she once viewed him as had become a predator, watching her closely. And somehow, she felt like she had already fallen into his trap.

Just then, Filip returned, only to see Cynthia deep in thought. Her usually bright face was pale, as if she had just endured a terrible hit. Her lively eyes looked empty, lacking their usual sparkle. She looked so vulnerable that he couldn’t help but feel a rush of sympathy.

Filip fought the urge to ask what was wrong, choosing to sit next to her instead. He figured her troubles had to do with Selena and Shirley at the next table. Selena had been Cynthia’s mom” for twenty years, but now they felt more like

strangers.

Dinner kicked off soon after. Filip noticed Cynthia knocking back drink after drink, clearly distressed. When she poured herself a third glass, he finally spoke up. “You’re drinking too much.”

She shot him a teasing smile and replied, her voice flirting, “What’s it to you? Worried about me?”

“This is an important occasion. Don’t embarrass the Yates family by getting wasted.” Filip turned serious.

Cynthia pouted. “You’re so annoying. I just had a breakup. Is it a crime to drink a little to ease the pain?” Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

Seeing the flush on her cheeks, Filip’s heart raced, but he quickly masked his concern. “Enough with the drama, Cynthia. Even if you pass out right here, I won’t blink an eye.”

Cynthia fell silent and kept drinking. ‘How could it be Jonathan? Does he even know I’m Filip’s wife? Why didn’t he ever mention his identity during those three years? What does he really want?‘ These thoughts raced through her mind, almost, driving her crazy.

As dinner went on, guests moved to the main table to toast. Filip stood up and said, “Come on, let’s toast to Susanna.” He led the way, with Cynthia trailing closely behind, drink in hand.

They soon reached the main table, where a crowd had gathered Susanna had already left, leaving Jonathan to take charge. Many people raised their glasses in a toast, but Jonathan barely took a sip in return. He would drink just a little for the higher–ups.

Finally, Filip seized a moment to approach Jonathan. “Mr. Bennett, I’m Filip Yates. Great to finally meet you. Let me raise my glass in your honor.”

Filip extended his glass with both hands, waiting for Jonathan to meet him halfway. He had noticed that no matter who came up to toast, Jonathan never turned anyone down and always clinked glasses.

But in that moment, Jonathan showed no intention of picking up his glass. Filip’s arm hung in the air, and an awkward silence settled between them.