"What's up with Murray?" Cliff glanced at the man drowning his sorrows in scotch, quietly sliding closer to York.

When they entered, Murray had been sporting a glower that could kill. The lively buzz of the party had noticeably dimmed.

"Somebody got blocked," Ever the instigator, York couldn't help but add fuel to the fire, reveling in the drama.

Murray's face darkened even more at the words.

Crash! He slammed down his wine glass on the glass table, his frustration palpable as he roughly undid the top buttons of his shirt, a hint of aggression in his movements. "I said, stop mentioning her. Can't you understand what I said?"

York just shrugged, opting to stay silent.

The mood shifted instantly. The singers fell silent, and the chatter around them died down, nobody daring to speak up.

Cliff almost choked on his drink. Roseanne was seriously not messing around, huh?

A bit tipsy, Corley leaned in and whispered to Cliff, "Did Roseanne come back yet?"

Cliff just shook his head and mumbled something noncommittal, not daring to say much.

guessing Roseanne probably hadn't returned

a game of Truth or Dare?" Everyone quickly

a woman

here. We've got a spot

star attraction and no stranger to keeping Murray

obviously disinterested. "Have fun, you

a group of stunned faces and a Janie, who

driver asked Murray where

of brandy, Murray felt his head

of the empty mansion, he muttered,

assistant, ready to leave, was surprised to

his irregular schedule around this time, playfully demanding he go to bed early. Despite his protests, he'd usually

coldly, "Wrapping up for the

assistant answered humbly, "Yes, Mr. Sherwood. Anything

to dismiss her but felt a pang of hunger and the alcohol stirring uncomfortably in his stomach. He turned pale. "Could you get me

came back within twenty minutes with

it, he couldn't hide his displeasure. "Why is it

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