"So, Miss Cruz," Hector Raven said in that steady, unhurried tone of his, "you are the safest and most convenient choice for me. After all, I definitely won't be interested in you, and you probably won't have any improper thoughts toward me. Am I right?"
"…"
For a full two seconds, Isabella Cruz did not move.
Then the corners of her lips twitched slightly.
In her heart, only one sentence remained, bright and explosive like fireworks.
Hector, does your mother know you're this good at asking for a beating?
Every time she recalled the humiliation of the morning, her temper rose again. In a fit of pique, she lifted the goblet in her hand and drained it in one breath.
Of course, it was not wine.
After her previous disastrous experience with alcohol, she was no longer foolish enough to grab a random glass and gulp it down. One mistake with Victor Steele had been more than enough for a lifetime.
