I snap out of my reverie when I see a guy approaching her, and they start dancing together—too close. She’s rubbing against him. My blood boils. I feel like punching that bastard in the face. Who does he think he is? No one will touch her as long as I desire her.
As soon as they start kissing, I rush down from the VIP area, pushing everyone on the stairs aside. I don’t even take my eyes off them for a second. As I pass the bar, I grab a glass and start shoving everyone in front of me.
I pretend to accidentally bump into them, and as she turns, I throw the drink right on her chest, to be precise. She takes a deep breath. Only then do I realize she had her eyes closed.
When she opens her eyes, her expression changes. I can’t decipher that look.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur in her ear. What a wo
