Chapter 450 Walk of Shame

Realizing brute force wouldn’t work, Owen relaxed a little and said, “Put your clothes on first. Then we’ll talk.”

Peggy took her time getting dressed, throwing him flirtatious glances and deliberately swaying her hips as if performing.

But flirting with a eunuch was pointless. Owen’s scowl was so severe it could’ve crushed a fly between his brows.

For Peggy, this felt like a triumphant victory. For Owen, every second was torture.

He lowered his eyes to his lap, silently cursing the heavens for sparing that sinful part of his body during the plague.

He glanced at Peggy again and felt nothing but regret.

Once dressed, she sat across from him with one shoulder exposed and said, “Go ahead.”

Owen kept his voice calm. “Whatever your demands are, just say them. We can work something out.”

Peggy beamed. “My demands aren’t hard at all. You know I’ve always had a thing for you. And I think you like me too.”

Owen forced down his anger. “Nonsense.”

Peggy pouted. “If you didn’t like me, why did you keep coming back for more last night? My back’s still aching…”

“Enough!” Owen’s face turned pale as he cut her off. “Just tell me what it’ll take to shut you up!”

Peggy leaned over the table, chin in her hands, flashing a mischievous smile. “You slept with me, so now you have to take responsibility. I want to marry you and become Mrs. Saunders.”

“Absolutely not!” Owen shot to his feet. “If I brought a woman like you home—someone with no sense of boundaries—my family would never know peace again!”

Peggy blinked innocently. “Why would you say that? You don’t even know how I’d get along with your family. Besides, doesn’t your sister Yunice live in Pavilion Hall? It’s not like we’d see each other much…”

Owen was firm. “Anything but marriage. Anything else, name it.”

Peggy’s smile vanished. “Then I insist on marriage. Take it or leave it.”

As the standoff dragged on, there was a knock at the door.

Owen was already at his breaking point. Embarrassed and in no state to see anyone, he pretended no one was inside.

But the person outside wouldn’t give up. The knocking grew louder and more frantic.

Finally, Owen snapped. “Quit knocking! Go away!”

The noise stopped—for a moment. Then his phone started ringing.

Peggy craned her neck to peek at the screen. The second she saw the name “Elsie,” Owen snatched the phone away like a miser guarding treasure.

Worried Elsie might be panicking, he walked into the bathroom to take the call.

Her voice trembled with concern. “Owen, are you in there? Please open the door—I just want to make sure you’re okay…”

Owen’s eyes stung. His fingers tightened around the phone. This had to be the lowest point of his life.

There was no way he could let her see him like this.

“I’m fine,” he said.

Elsie’s voice turned urgent. “Oscar told me you were really upset last night—that you drank a ton. And you didn’t come home at all. I’ve been worried sick…”

Then, growing more frantic, she threatened, “If you don’t open the door, I swear I’ll call security to break it down!”

Owen panicked. “Don’t!”

From the bathroom door, Peggy’s voice rang out with a laugh. “Is that your family? Let her in. She and I are bound to meet eventually, right?”

Owen turned, horrified. Peggy was leaning casually against the doorframe, eavesdropping like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He felt his scalp tingle. Peggy was terrifying. She made his skin crawl. It was like he had no privacy around her—she didn’t even bother hiding the fact she was listening in on his call.

“Owen, who’s that? Why do I hear a woman’s voice in your room?” Elsie’s voice rose, followed by another round of frantic pounding.

Peggy didn’t wait for Owen to react. She strutted to the door and flung it open.

And just to twist the knife, she tugged her collar loose as she did, revealing the telltale red marks on her chest—obvious signs of last night’s activities.

Owen nearly screamed. “No!”

But the door was already open, and Peggy and Elsie stared each other down.

Elsie froze at first, stunned to see the half-dressed woman. Her eyes quickly dropped to the marks on Peggy’s chest—any woman who had ever experienced it would know exactly what they meant.

Her expression twisted in rage. “Who the hell are you?! Why are you in Owen’s room dressed like that? Do you have no shame?!”

Peggy leaned seductively against the doorframe, looking her up and down. “And you are? Owen’s girlfriend?”

Elsie snapped, “He’s my Owen!”

Peggy blinked, her expression shifting. “You mean like… your Owen?”

Elsie growled, “What do you think?!”