Find me in your labyrinth (Stella and Jonathan) novel Chapter 2552

Greg’s expression froze, a flush creeping over his cheeks, but he had no choice but to keep up appearances. “Thank you for your understanding, Ms. Jarvis.”

He turned to Eugene and signaled for a server. “Please help Mr. Winters upstairs to take care of his injury.”

The server bowed slightly. “Mr. Winters, if you’ll follow me?”

Almost instinctively, Eugene glanced over at Sylvia.

She nodded. “I’ll come with you.”

Only then did Eugene let out a small, relieved smile.

Upstairs, Sylvia took the first aid kit from the server, opened it, and found some antiseptic to clean the scratch across Eugene’s cheek.

Her voice was gentle as she said, “You shouldn’t bother arguing with her. Trust me—when it comes to an argument with a woman, you’ll never win.”

Eugene shrugged out of his suit jacket, left in just a pale blue shirt, his features cool and composed. “I shouldn’t have argued at all. I should’ve just given her a slap—that would’ve taught her a lesson.”

“She doesn’t need another lesson,” Sylvia replied, her eyes cool, her tone calm. “Letting her get away with it is punishment enough.”

Eugene paused, tilting his head, studying Sylvia with a look that lingered just a moment too long before he grinned. “Sylvia, I love you.”

The confession came out of nowhere, making Sylvia’s hands freeze for a beat. She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I’m too soft on you as well?”

“If your kindness is a punishment, then I hope you make it even harsher.” Eugene had barely finished the sentence when he suddenly yelped, “Sylvia!”

“I should’ve used chili paste instead of antiseptic,” Sylvia retorted dryly.

“As long as you’re the one doing it, I’d take the chili paste any day,” Eugene answered, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile.

Sylvia ignored him, finishing the dressing and giving him a final instruction. “Keep your face dry for the next couple of days.”

Eugene looked at her, dead serious. “How am I supposed to shower?”

“Exactly!” another man agreed, eager to please. “You’re a real lady—she’s nothing. No comparison at all.”

Jolin gave a cold laugh. “You’re all talk. If I handed Sylvia to you on a silver platter, don’t tell me you wouldn’t take her to bed.”

The man scoffed. “I wouldn’t touch her. She’s filthy.”

The room erupted in laughter.

With a bang, the door flew open. Eugene stormed in, his face dark with fury. He grabbed a chair and swung it straight at the man who’d just spoken.

For a split second, everyone froze—then chaos exploded. Fists flew, people shouted, and the lounge devolved into utter bedlam.

Eugene fought without holding back, but with three or four men against him, and others pulling at him, he took his share of blows.

Jolin, who had always had a thing for Eugene, saw him getting hit and couldn’t help but rush in, trying to pull people off him in a desperate attempt to help.