Chapter 177: Public Humiliation, A Witch's Retort
My hands trembled as I frantically reached for a napkin, desperate to clean the mess I'd made on Lucian's expensive shirt. I was still on his lap, mortified beyond words.
"I'm so sorry," I repeated, dabbing at the wine stain spreading across his chest. The silence in the room was deafening – every pair of eyes locked on us, watching this humiliating spectacle unfold.
Lucian's expression had shifted. The brief flicker of recognition in his eyes hardened into something cold and dangerous. His jaw tightened, nostrils flaring as he inhaled sharply.
"You," he said again, this time loud enough for others to hear. The single word dripped with venom.