NovelEnglishChapter 185
"You bought the sdress as Eloise. What if she thinks you're upset with her? That's why | said it was a
knockoff. I'm trying to help you out here. If you're not okay with it, we should go clear the air with Eloise right
now."
Sylvia knew Freya wouldn't dare.
As expected, after a few seconds of silence, Freya changed the subject. "Sylvia, I'm feeling a bit queasy. Could
you getsmedicine from the front desk and bring it to Room 67?" "Sure, wait for me."
"Hurry, please. I'm really not feeling well," Freya urged.
"Got it."
Hanging up, Sylvia turned and walked out of the banquet hall.
Meanwhile, Bailey took the opportunity while Bridget was chatting with friends to stroll over to Rupert.
Raising her glass, she hinted, "The coast is clear. Aren't you going to follow her? Aren't you worried something
might happen?"
Rupert sipped his drink. "She's not foolish."
Bailey chuckled. "Then why did | see you almost crush your glass when she was approached earlier?"
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"No, | didn't."
Used to his stubbornness, Bailey changed the subject. "I've passed on the message that you helped with
Bridget's birthday bash. It should smooth over the recent rumors. If all goes well, the contract will be signed
once the guest arrives." "Hmm."
Rupert set down his glass, gave Bailey a look, and left the banquet hall.
Bridget noticed his absence and approached, only to be stopped by Bailey.
"Bailey, where's Rupert?"
"Restroom. Are you going too?" Bailey said with a light smile. "Ms. Simpson, keeping such a tight leash on a man
can backfire."
"Bailey, you jest. You're not in a relationship; you wouldn't understand the fun Rupert and | have," Bridget
retorted, not missing a beat to throw a jab.
Bailey laughed. "We'll see about that."
With that, she walked past Bridget and left.
Sylvia arrived at the door of Room 6. She checked the number and, ensuring no one was watching, quickly
swapped the digits with the room across.
Just as she was about to leave, an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her into the neighboring room.
Caught off guard, she gasped, only to find herself pinned against the door.
Seeing the man in front of her, anger surged through her. She struggled fiercely. "Have you lost your mind? This
is your fiancée's birthday party!"
"Hmm." Rupert's gaze was heavy with an unspoken emotion as he looked at her. "So what? Other men dat can
get close to you, and | can't? Weren't it you who started this?"
As he spoke, the scent of alcohol lingered between them.
Sylvia glanced at her wrist, red from his grip. Exhaustion weighed on her, and she stopped struggling.
She tried to keep her composure. "You're drunk. Besides, | turned them all down."
Rupert's grip loosened slightly at her words, his fingertips lingering on her arm. His warm touch felt scorching
against her skin, sending an involuntary shiver through her.
He lowered his head, his breath hot against her face, making her feel uncomfortably warm. "Then let's say | am
drunk."
"Ah..." Sylvia's protest turned into a startled gasp as his hand slid to her waist, his fingers grazing the thin silk of
her dress, making her let out an embarrassed noise.
"Your mouth seems to only say things that irritate me. Maybe it should be put to better use." His voice was
husky, laced with something dangerous. Rupert leaned in to kiss her.
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In the autumn-chilled room without air conditioning, which should have been cool, Sylvia felt her breaths become
hot and sticky.
She pushed against the man in front of her, but he didn't even wince.
Instead, his other hand only fanned the flames further, intensifying her discomfort.
It wasn't the temperature but her struggles that left her skin damp with sweat.
He leaned closer, a trace of amusement in his voice. "You're damp."
Sylvia bit her lip, her cheeks burning with mortification.
"I meant the dress. Take it off."
Before she could react, his hand was already at her back, unzipping the dress, his palm pressing against her
smooth back. "You..."
"Shh." He was almost kissing her lips as he spoke.
Footsteps approached from outside.
But!
His hands didn't stop!
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