Considering that all the patrons present were untouchable, she couldn’t afford to cause trouble for Olivia, so she had to grit her teeth and bear it. Then, her arm suddenly jerked, pretending to accidentally spill the drink.
Some of the alcohol splashed onto Brandon’s arm, and some sprinkled on her skirt.
Panicked, she stood up in disarray and hurriedly apologized.
“Sorry, I’m really sorry, Mr. Brandon, I really didn’t mean it.” She apologized while quickly using a tissue to wipe his arm.
Originally, the drink had only landed on his arm, but in her hasty attempt to clean it, it stained his shirt and trousers.
“No need, I’ll take care of it myself.” he feeling annoyed, held his hand out to stop her from helping any further.
Brandon smiled as he dried his arm, maintaining silence throughout.
Even though he knew this girl had done it intentionally, he couldn’t pick a fight over it; that would be uncouth.
He subconsciously glanced at Isabella, not missing the cunning flicker in her sparkling eyes, reminiscent of a sly fox.
He pondered for a moment, a smile slowly spreading across his lips, resembling the excitement of a hunter encountering a rare prey.
This little girl was quite intriguing indeed.
Seeing that Brandon didn’t make a scene, Isabella breathed a slight sigh of relief.
“Sorry, I need to visit the restroom, the skirt needs some fixing,” she pointed to the red wine stain on her hem.
After saying this, just as she was about to leave, Brandon’s outstretched arm blocked her path.
“No rush, I think it would be nice to dye this skirt a little bit.” Brandon gestured to the seat next to him, indicating she should sit down.
Isabella furrowed her brows slightly. This man was clearly not naive. It seemed escaping wouldn’t be so easy.
Just as she was wracking her brain for a way out, the door of the private room was pushed open.
“Oh, what a coincidence, quite a gathering today.” Accompanied by a playful voice, a handsome man entered, a playful smile adorning his handsome face.
The men in the room, upon seeing him, instinctively stood up. “Mr. Ryan, what a surprise, we didn’t expect to see you here.”
Several men were prominent figures in Ithaca town, yet none dared to act big in front of Ryan.
“It seems lively here, mind if I join?” Ryan leaned against the door of the private room, asking with a smile.
“Mr. Ryan, you honor us with your presence.” No one present would dare to disrespect him.
Ryan smiled and walked into the private room straightforwardly, picking a seat casually. His nose twitched slightly, his gaze fixed on Isabella. He was surprised to detect an Alpha scent emanating from the woman.
He was astonished. Had an Alpha already marked her?
“Did you come alone?” One of the men poured Ryan a drink, trying to flatter him.
“With a friend,” Ryan’s train of thought was interrupted as his gaze naturally fell outside the door.
The others also subconsciously glanced at the entrance. Isabella also turned to look, and there she saw Andrew walking in.
His attire was casual today, no suit, just a dark shirt with rolled-up sleeves, revealing strong forearms. One hand casually tucked in his pocket, the other holding a lit cigarette.
Andrew had always been low-key, seldom appearing in front of the media or public events, so very few had actually seen him in person.
The men present assumed he was merely Ryan’s friend. Although nameless, his low-key yet domineering aura was impossible to ignore.
Everyone present was seasoned in the business world, highly sensitive to cues, aware that a man with such an aura was not an ordinary figure.
As a result, their attitudes toward Andrew were exceptionally courteous.
Andrew exuded an air of cold aloofness, but his gaze remained fixed on Isabella.
He sat across from Brandon, crossing his slender legs casually. His deep gaze swept past him, betraying no discernible emotions.
Brandon, on the other hand, remained firmly seated on the sofa, the only one who didn’t stand up to compliment Ryan. He was also the only one who recognized Andrew.
However, Andrew’s status was esteemed, and he wasn’t lacking, thus not needing to bend over backwards in flattery.
Brandon’s attention remained on Isabella. Her continuous refusal to comply with his wishes was somewhat irritating him.
While a woman playing coy and using tricks wasn’t necessarily bad, his patience was wearing thin. He was just about to reach out and pull her closer when a deep, cold voice suddenly rang out.
“Why are you standing there? Come over and pour the drinks.” Andrew looked at Isabella and spoke. He was actually furious; his mate was being approached so closely by another man, and he wished he could tear the human man to pieces.
Isabella was eager for someone to intervene for her. She obediently sat by his side, pouring the drink for Andrew, handing him the glass dutifully.
His pale blue eyes glanced lightly at her as he reached out to take it.
His clean and elongated palm accepted the highball glass, gently swaying it, allowing the crimson liquid to splash against the crystal walls.
Isabella and Andrew had nothing to say to each other. She hadn’t forgotten they were still in a sort of silent conflict.
He clearly had no intention of initiating conversation either. He simply sat there quietly, his dark shirt blending with the dim light, enhancing his depth.
The slightly open collar exposed a bronze-toned chest, subtly sensual yet reserved.
The surrounding air seemed stifled, oppressive, suffocating almost, only his cigarette, glowing at his fingertips, flickering in the light, remained the sole motion.
She couldn’t stand the smell of smoke, feeling discomforted. She wished she could rush over and snatch the cigarette from his fingertips, stamp it out vehemently underfoot.
Thinking this, Isabella had already reached out, removing the still-burning cigarette from between his slender fingers and forcefully extinguishing it in the crystal ashtray in front of her.