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Isabella was indeed dressed in a fitted and tailored crystal mermaid dress, intentionally accentuating her alluring curves. Her slightly tousled hair and butterfly-shaped classical blue crystal earrings added to her allure. The dress shimmered under the lights, showcasing her graceful neck and captivating red lips.
This beauty was meant for him alone. How dare she flaunt it so shamelessly just a minute ago, especially in the presence of the young man whom she had met only today? It was abominable and unforgivable.
The more Alexander thought about it, the angrier he became. He grabbed a spiked glass of wine from a friend and demanded her to drink it.
"Fine!" Isabella, frustrated, grabbed the glass and downed the wine, slamming it on the table. "Now are you satisfied?"
"You..." Alexander grew even angrier, raising his hand as if to strike her.
"What? Going to hit me?" Isabella, her head buzzing from alcohol, glared at Alexander. "You're out there openly flirting, yet you have the audacity to forbid me from socializing and dancing with others?"
"I'm a man! I do what I want! You're nothing! Acting innocent in front of me, then turning around and doing such things..." Alexander's words were cut off as Isabella grabbed a tablecloth and threw it over his head.
"Bastard... wretched..." Alexander struggled under the tablecloth. "You wretch, just wait until the effects of your medication kick in. You'll come begging for me!"
Anger clouded Alexander's eyes as he cursed at the thought of her possibly being with Ethan. Today, he would make sure to make her pay.
Seeing the commotion, Olivia urgently pushed Isabella and urged, "Go! Don't let him catch you!"
Isabella nodded and quickly left.
Perhaps the situation was too overwhelming, or perhaps the exertion from running exacerbated the effects of alcohol. Isabella felt hot, dizzy, and nauseous. She quickly asked a waitress for directions to the restroom and rushed in, dropping to her knees in front of the sink in a fit of dry heaving.
Her head was spinning when she looked up, her vision hazy. Isabella tried to clear her head by splashing cold water on her face. But the situation didn’t get better. She realized Alex might hand her a spiked alcohol.
Suddenly, the sound of water stopped. Isabella looked up to find someone behind her reaching to turn on the faucet.
"You're..." Isabella turned her head and hit a "wall" that was warm and smelled like tobacco.
Looking up, her hazel, drowsy eyes met sleepy and mesmerizing eyes. An awkward silence ensued.
After a while, Isabella blinked and said, "Sir, you're in the wrong place. This is the ladies' restroom."
"Are you sure?" The man asked rhetorically.
"Isn't it?" Isabella glanced at the "sinks", her foggy brain not yet realizing the mistake.
"What ladies' restroom have you ever seen with a whole row of individual sinks against the wall?" The man warned kindly.
Finally comprehending, Isabella looked around, her eyes widening in realization. "This isn't the ladies' restroom?!"
"Congratulations on finally realizing you're in the wrong restroom," the man said with a hint of a smile, revealing a flicker of refined light in his eyes.
Isabella, still a bit dazed, tried to save face. "I must have taken a wrong turn. I thought I encountered a mysterious wall and ended up here."
"Did you not enter the men's restroom intentionally? And you don't recognize me?" the man inquired.
"Well, I don't know who you are." Isabella blinked, attempting to feign confusion. OMG. She really didn’t want to meet Ethan again, leaving alone under those conditions.
Ethan gentlemanly offered to walk the seemingly drunken woman to her room.
"...Not... don't bother..." Isabella said feebly, feigning drunkenness, holding onto the wall as she walked out.
Ethan watched her until she disappeared from sight, and an inexplicable warmth coursed through him as he admired her shapely figure.
Damn it. His body was reacting to a woman he had just met. And, if he wasn't mistaken, she seemed to have taken drugs. He felt her body was scorching hot, and the way she looked at people was unnaturally flirtatious.
As Isabella tried to find a place to sober up, she accidentally bumped into a child with a pet chinchilla.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Isabella apologized hurriedly.
"It's okay, pretty," the little boy reassured.
He was about four or five years old, with ebony eyes. Dressed in a white shirt and pants, he carried a transparent bag with a pet chinchilla inside, munching on carrots.
So adorable, Isabella thought.
In the distance, Alexander's angry shouts echoed once more. "Bastard! Get out of here! I won't let you off this time!"
Isabella was furious, wanting to confront Alexander, but she needed to ensure the safety of the child in front of her first.
"Little one, go away. Don't let that man—"
"Don't worry, pretty. I'll protect you," the child interrupted.
He held Isabella's hand and said, "Your face is so red, and your hand is so hot. Were you bothered by bad people?"
"Er..." Isabella was taken aback. Were children this mature these days?
Whatever, it's better to get out of there.
Isabella took a deep breath and prepared to leave, holding onto the wall for support.
"No, follow me!" protested the child, clutching Isabella's hand and ushering her into a luxury suite.
The room was lavishly decorated, but Isabella couldn't help noticing some inappropriate adult items on the coffee table.
"Here is... my uncle's room, perfectly safe," the child reassured her.
"Er..." Isabella hesitated, eyeing the items on the table. Perhaps it was best to leave.
The child held her hand firmly, insisting, "You will be bullied by bad people if she goes out now! I won’t let it happen! "
Isabella hesitated, feeling the fiery sensation inside her intensify. She had to get out, but she also didn't want to put the child in danger.
"I... I..." Isabella stammered.
"Don't be afraid, sis. I'm still a kid and can't help you, but I have a super awesome dad who can definitely help you!"
The child grabbed a phone and called for his father, urging him to come quickly.
"Thanks," Isabella breathed a sigh of relief, but the flames inside her surged again.
She forced a bitter smile, "Shall I tell you a story? Distracting yourself might calm you down."
"Good," the little one burrowed into her arms, eagerly anticipating a story.
Isabella began to tell a story, and as she spoke, the child nestled against her, accompanied by a pet chinchilla.
Meanwhile, Ethan, the father of the child, stood in the room next door, observing the scene cautiously.
Six years ago, he had been set up by a similar tactic, accidentally having s*x with a woman who hung out at a nightclub, and ten months later, reaping the rewards of Liam, his baby son.
- Writer
