It felt like an eternity before Rupert finally released Sylvia. She slumped against the wall, her breaths short and rapid. Her lips, flushed and slightly parted, tested Rupert's self-control, pushing it to the very edge of reason. He made to move closer again, but Sylvia sharply turned her face away.
"What are you playing at? One moment cold, the next sweet?"
"What do you mean?" Rupert casually wiped the trace of blood from his lips, a testament to how hard she had bitten him in her anger.
Listening to his nonchalant tone, Sylvia glared at him. "Can you seriously stand there and play dumb? All the things you've done for Bridget, do I really need to spell them out for you? If you love her that much, why do you treat me this way? Am I really that worthless to you, to be used and trampled on at will? Can your love drama not involve me? I'm not interested in the slightest!
Thanks for the hangover cure. I'm fine now."
With those words, Sylvia brushed past him, not looking back as she left.
...
In the private room.
After Sylvia left, Rupert spilled his drink and headed to the restroom.
Bridget, worried after not seeing Rupert return, left the private room to use the restroom and overheard suppressed moans.
She knew exactly what those sounds meant, but she never imagined they would come from Rupert.
Rupert had always been reserved around her, never crossing any boundaries. She had thought it was just his nature, considering they were eventually to be married, and there would be plenty of opportunities for intimacy.
But here he was, visibly losing control over another woman, like a beast starved for its prey.
Bridget took a step forward but then hesitated, choosing not to reveal her presence. She glanced at Sylvia, scoffed quietly to herself, and turned back toward the private room.
Upon entering, Bridget saw those three lecherous men eyeing her.
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