Chapter 5

Trisha stood frozen in place after hearing everything Cyril said. So, every second, every minute, he had felt nothing but disgust toward her. It didn't matter, for his suffering would soon come to an end. Trisha silently smiled, then quietly turned and left. The bar was alive with neon lights and raucous laughter. She ordered and drank a few more glasses until her vision blurred with double images. In her drunken haze, a man approached with a glass in hand to strike up a conversation. Perhaps truly drunk, the sight of his eyes—so similar to Ethan's—made her take the drink as if possessed. When she saw him holding out his glass to her for a clink, the wild streak she had been holding back finally surged to the surface. Without thinking, she hooked her arm around his. "Let's link arms and drink from each other's glasses. And then you'll tell me your name, okay?" she teased. "We can drink, but let's skip the name part. What do you say?" Lost in those familiar eyes, she mumbled drunkenly, "You won't tell me your name? You're Ethan, right?" She blinked hard a few times, trying to see his face more clearly. When she opened her eyes again, she saw Cyril charging toward them like a madman. He swung his fist and landed it squarely on the man's face. The two tumbled into a brawl, shattering bottles and glasses, one of which cut Trisha's hand. The pain snapped her out of her haze for a moment. She staggered forward and grabbed Cyril to stop him from beating the pain. "I want the one who talked to him first. Why are you hitting him?" she demanded. The blood coursing through Cyril's body seemed to freeze. His gaze sharpened as he turned to look at her. For some reason, Trisha felt guilty under his gaze. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind and find a few reasonable excuses. "Don't you think his eyes look like y'all's? You don't like me anyway, so how about this? I'll stop bothering you, and I'll find a new sugar baby. What do you say?" With each word, Cyril's expression grew darker. He couldn't hold back any longer—he grabbed her and dragged her out of the car. "Are you bored with me now? You've had your fun, and now you want to discard me? Well, let me tell you, Trisha Newton—I won't allow it!" Trisha waved her hand and replied in her usual languid tone, "Didn't we agree that we're only doing this for mutual benefits? So, how can you say I'm discarding you? If I can have you as my sugar baby, why can't I get someone else to do the same?" The words detonated Cyril's rage. He pressed her violently against his chest and said through gritted teeth, "Don't you dare!" Trisha frowned, irritation flashing in her eyes. "Why wouldn't I? You were just Ethan's—" "Cyril, I just went to the restroom. Why are you out here?" Anna's sudden appearance shattered Trisha's train of thought. Cyril, too, gradually calmed down. He forced down the inner turmoil raging in his chest and helped Trisha to her feet. "She's drunk. I'm taking her home. Since you're out as well, just get in the car," he said, his tone already back to its usual calmness. With that, he tossed her the car keys and helped Trisha into the backseat. As Anna drove, her eyes kept flicking to the rearview mirror. "Why was she at the bar?" "No idea." A devilish glint appeared in Anna's eyes as she heard his icy tone. "I heard she dated tons of guys before she met you. In fact, she's a regular at bars. Cyril, you're so lucky you're not marrying a woman like that. Who knows, she might go back to her old ways after marriage." Cyril's temper flared up again, and the peace he had just regained slipped away. "Anna, eyes on the road!" he snapped. Hurt by his harsh tone, Anna pouted and turned her head. "You're yelling at me." As she spoke, she turned the steering wheel, not noticing the sharp curve ahead. The next second, the car slammed straight into the mountainside.