Unwilling to impose, Vera made a swift exit.

Once she’d gone, Waylen sauntered over to the door, closing it with a soft click.

Turning back, he found Rena’s gaze fixed on him.

Approaching, he picked up a crystal glass, sniffing its contents.

Rena’s visage, flushed, revealed her inebriation.

Settling beside her, Waylen delicately swept back her hair, his tone tender.

“Are you still upset?”

counter, gazed into

wants. Is

smiled, a confession

“Jealousy.”

braced for

her, breeding

no setting for

They departed together.

the driver’s seat of his black Rolls-Royce, Waylen, still in

Rena averted her gaze.

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