SEVERAL strands of her wet hair were still stuck to her fair, smooth shoulders. Her curves, her chest, and her entire figure were completely exposed under the dim lights of the penthouse. Heavy drowsiness was written all over her sleepy eyes, and the intense kick of alcohol showed in every step she took, causing her walk to crisscross to the point where she almost bumped into the side of the large sofa.
“Yaya Ising... I need my clothes...” Adeline groaned in a raspy, sleepy voice, as if she were in her own house, calling out to her maid.
On the other end of the phone line, Samantha heard heavy coughing and a woman's voice.
[“Matt? What was that? Who’s there?”] she asked, shocked and confused. Matthew didn't answer.
[“Do... do you have someone there with you? Is that a woman’s voice?”]
