It was rare for Beryl to hate someone in such a short period of time. Mrs. Bronte was an exception. She had only seen Moira for less than ten minutes and was already slightly resistant to her emotions.
Marcellus took the woman's body as she leaned in, wrapping his arm around her and planting a kiss on her forehead, returning to his playboy demeanor. "Drinking is the only way to have fun, " he said.
"You're so annoying." The woman pretended to be shy and hit him gently. It seemed that she was flirting with him instead of really refusing him.
Beryl had never seen such a scene before. Her family was a very traditional family, and the way they expressed their love was reserved and tactful. There was no doubt that she could not accept such a scene.
"Ahem..." She cleared her throat and pointed upstairs. "If there's nothing else, I'll go upstairs."
Moira couldn't wait to see her go up, but she was interrupted by Marcellus when she was about to speak. "Aren't you watching TV? Keep watching."
She wanted to watch TV, but now the two of them were flirting with each other. What would she think?
Beryl took a deep breath and tried her best to calm down. "I won't watch it now."
Marcellus looked at her tense face and didn't want to make things difficult for her, but now he suddenly had an idea.
He had thought that she was naive enough not to care about anything, but now it seemed that was not the case.
So, he pointed to the sofa not far away and ordered, "Sit there and watch."
Beryl knew that it was useless to refuse, so she could only accept her fate and walk over to sit down. She could pretend that there was no one behind her. Anyway, her back was turned, and she could not see anything.
It turned out that she was still too young. Just because she couldn't see didn't mean that she couldn't hear it. When those ambiguous moans entered her ears, she felt terrible.
"Be gentle. It hurts so much..."
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