NovelStartChapter 330 The dinner venue had been switched to a much fancier restaurant this time- somewhere with real privacy, the kind of place where the waiters wear crisp white shirts and the wine list is longer than your Christmas shopping list.
The moment you stepped inside, you were hit with a sense of opulence-soft golden lights, thick carpets, and the gentle clink of champagne flutes. The private dining room had a long table dressed up with tasteful floral arrangements and elegant place settings. It all felt very "Gatsby's mansion, minus the jazz band." Eloise entered first, greeting a couple of foreign guests with the classic European cheek kiss-double tap, smiles all around-before politely taking her seat.
Sylvia trailed behind her, a little out of her depth, and had barely taken two steps when a tall figure suddenly blocked her path.
"Hey there, miss." Sylvia looked up, surprised to recognize one of her favorite Italian designers- Mark. His nwas straight out of the Bible, a classic in Italy, but his creations were anything but traditional. He was famous for his bold, innovative designs, and rumor had it he drew inspiration from his own personal muse. Probably a hopeless romantic, Sylvia thought.
She couldn't quite believe he was talking to her. She was about to offer a handshake, but he went in for a hug instead his hands sliding from her shoulder down her back. It made her bristle a little, but she reminded herself that Europeans had different ideas about personal space.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtStill, when he leaned in for a cheek kiss, she instinctively put up a hand to stop him. Thankfully, Eloise stepped in, greeting Mark with a quick hug of her own.
"Mark, it's been ages! I saw your latest collection-absolutely stunning," Eloise said, smoothly intercepting him. "Thank you. And this young lady is...?" Mark nodded towards Sylvia.
Eloise, ever the protective mentor, blocked him a little and replied offhandedly, "She's my intern. Con, let's have a drink." Mark grinned and followed Eloise to the table. Sylvia exhaled, feeling a tension she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her. She glanced up, but nothing seemed out of place.
The dinner party kicked off. Designers swapped stories, glasses clinked, and Eloise-going through a rough divorce-seemed genuinely happy for the first tin weeks. Sylvia decided not to intrude, taking a quiet seat at the far end of the table.
Suddenly, a glass of wine appeared before her. Mark was sitting across from her, raising his glass with a charming smile. "I've seen your work. You've got real talent. I'm looking forward to seeing where you go next." "Thank you," Sylvia replied, barely able to hide her excitement at being noticed by her idol. She took a sip of the wine he offered.
After a few minutes, Mark drifted away to chat with other designers. Sylvia didn't think much of it-untila strange rush of energy swept over her. It wasn't the usual buzz from a glass of rosé. It was more like she'd just ridden a rollercoaster her body felt lighter, her heart pounded, and she was suddenly hyper-aware of everything.
1.n The sensation didn't feel right. Sylvia glanced at her empty wine glass, noticing the faint orange tint from the cocktail she'd finished. She looked around the table, her eyes landing on Mark. Across the flickering candlelight and bouquets, he caught her eye, lifting his glass in a silent toast, his smile a little too knowing.
Her heart hammered in her chest. She was scared-scared she might lose control, do something embarrassing, or worse. As the others chatted, she quietly pushed back her chair, hoping to slip out unnoticed.
But as she tried to stand, a strong hand gripped her arm.
"Sylvia, are you alright? Had a bit too much? Lethelp you get sfresh air," Mark said, his voice all gentlemanly concern.
She looked up at his smiling face, wanting to call for Eloise, but when she tried to speak, only a weird, strangled sound cout. Panic flared there was no way Eloise could hear her over the conversation, surrounded as she was by other guests.
Sylvia clenched her jaw, trying to pull away. Mark's grip tightened slightly, still polite on the surface, but unyielding.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm"Con, let's step outside," he insisted quietly.
Powerless to resist, Sylvia could only m watch as Mark half-led, half-carried ve.
her out of the dining room. But he didn't take her outside.
Instead, he steered her to a small
private lounge at the end of the hall, Sylvia was placed in a chair, limbs heavy and uncoop her .n All
she could do was tilt her head back, her mind spinning as she stared up at the chandelier, hoping someone E would notice she needed help.
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