Episode 85

Each man stood over six feet tall, boasting broad shoulders and slim waists—a sight that could easily place them among second-tier celebrities. This must be what people called "toy boys" online.

Elizabeth had never been to a place like this. Yet, even without experience, the scene before her clearly depicted its infamous reputation.

"Enjoy yourselves, ladies!" the men chorused, their voices smooth as honey, yet startling Elizabeth. Camille, however, remained unfazed, as if she'd frequented such gilded halls many times. She nudged Elizabeth and gestured toward a young man leaning against the far wall.

"Look at the one on the far right," she said, a wicked smirk playing on her lips. "Doesn't he remind you of that jerk, Elijah?"

Elizabeth followed Camille's gaze. Under the dim lighting, his sharp features did bear a passing resemblance to Elijah's, though the comparison left a sour taste.

"A little," she admitted, nodding reluctantly.

With a casual wave, Camille beckoned the boy over. "Come keep Elizabeth company," she instructed, her confidence palpable.

The Elijah lookalike approached, smoothly uncorking a bottle of wine. "Miss, would you prefer poker or dice?" he asked, settling beside her.

Elizabeth's body immediately stiffened. Despite the plush sofa, she sat rigidly, her posture reminiscent of a disciplined schoolgirl. Her physical reactions had always been brutally honest—a testament to her emotional sensitivity. Though undeniably attractive, the boy evoked no desire; instead, she felt a subtle sense of repulsion, her body instinctively recoiling.

Camille, observing Elizabeth's discomfort, spoke with a mix of frustration and pragmatism. "Elijah and his mistress have likely been intimate countless times. You're practically divorced—why cling to your principles?"

Recognizing the futility of changing Elizabeth's nature, Camille turned to the men. "My friend doesn't enjoy physical contact. Drinks and games only. Understood?"

Elizabeth's grip tightened around her wineglass. If Elijah could find someone else, why couldn't she? Good men might be rare, but there was no shortage of men. Why resign herself to loneliness after severing ties with the James family?

Swallowing her hesitation along with the wine, Elizabeth forced herself to stay. Whether out of spite or a desire not to dampen Camille's spirits, she reached for the cards and began to play.

The men, sensing the shift, gathered around, and the games commenced. Camille, more enthusiastic than skilled, quickly amassed a losing streak, leaving her with a row of empty beer bottles. She swayed unsteadily as she rose.

"I can't take it anymore. Bathroom break," she slurred.

Elizabeth stood to follow, but the crowd prevented her. A single misstep would mean brushing against too many people, so she sat back down, resigned.