Chapter 33: Misunderstanding

At first, Rupert only wanted to punish Annabel. But her lips were so soft and sweet, their effect on him almost magical, leaving him deeply addicted. This feeling was so intense, he couldn't resist deepening the kiss.

The sudden kiss made Annabel feel shy and angry. Rupert, so bossy, pried her lips and teeth open with his tongue, sliding it into her mouth and kissing her passionately. Annabel could hardly breathe; her heart pounded. She tried to push him away, but he held her hands against the door. The restroom's temperature seemed to rise.

Suddenly, Annabel bit his lip hard. The smell of blood filled her nostrils. Feeling the pain, Rupert released her. Finally able to breathe, Annabel took deep breaths to calm herself, patted her burning face, and glared at him.

"Rupert, you're a bastard!"

Rupert's face darkened as he stared intently at her. Did she hate him so much? She had even bitten him! Remembering Annabel singing to Marcel minutes earlier, he imagined an intimate scene between them. His handsome face hardened. He wiped the blood from his lips and growled, "Marcel is not suitable for you."

"What?" Annabel was irritated. She saw Marcel only as a brother. Rupert clearly misunderstood their relationship. But so what? What was his relationship to her, anyway? He had no right to interfere.

"It's none of your business!"

With a final fiery glare, Annabel opened the door and left. She'd had enough; she didn't want to be near such a dangerous man.

Watching her go, Rupert frowned. He didn't understand his uncontrollable emotions around Annabel; it was unsettling.

After the forced kiss, Annabel was in no mood to see Marcel and his friends. She called him, saying, "I'm leaving."

"Annabel, what happened? Are you okay?" Marcel asked, concerned by her unusual tone.

"Nothing. I just feel a little uncomfortable," she quickly excused herself.

Marcel hurried to ask, "Annabel, where are you? I'll take you back."

"No, thanks," she refused.

But Marcel was determined. He took the elevator downstairs and waited for her at the gate. Annabel was surprised to find him there.

"Annabel, are you okay?" he asked, hurrying to meet her.

Annabel smiled. "I'm fine. Why are you here?"

"I want to take you home," he insisted.

Seeing she couldn't change his mind, she nodded. "Okay."

"Wait a minute. Let me get the car," Marcel said gentlemanly.

"Okay."

Five minutes later, Marcel's Maserati arrived. "Come on, get in," he said, opening the door for her.

"Thanks," she smiled, settling into the passenger seat.

Meanwhile, Rupert returned to his private box. His client waited patiently.

"Mr. Benton, you're back."

Rupert's face remained dark, the restroom scene replaying in his mind. The kiss had intoxicated him, but Annabel's rejection made him unhappy. Her angry departure worried him. It was late; would she be in danger?

"I have to leave now," he said abruptly, rising. He left his shocked client without another word.

Arriving at the gate, he saw Annabel getting into Marcel's car. He watched them laugh and talk; her smile was different from the one she'd given him in the restroom. Marcel drove away. Rupert's expression grew even more frightening.

"Mr. Benton, are you okay?" his client asked, concerned.

Rupert gave him a cold glance. "Let's go back and drink."

Marcel drove Annabel back to the Benton family house and dropped her off.

"Thank you," she said gratefully.

"Don't mention it." Marcel considered her an idol; he would do anything for her.

In her room, Annabel quickly showered and went to bed. The unexpected kiss replayed in her mind. She tossed and turned until midnight.

"Rupert, you bastard!" she cursed again. She blamed him for her insomnia, a first for her.

Pursing her dry lips, she stood to get water, but found none in her room. She had to go downstairs. As she descended the stairs, she heard footsteps.

It was late; could it be a thief? Annabel tiptoed and hid. Just then, the front door opened, and a tall, alcohol-soaked figure stumbled in. It was Rupert!

Relieved, Annabel emerged and headed for the kitchen, but a strong hand grabbed her.

"Rupert, what are you doing?" she screamed. She lost her balance and fell, coincidentally landing on top of him. Her lips met his; she smelled the strong scent of alcohol.

Annabel quickly stood, frowning. Was he drunk? Why had he drunk so much? She looked down at the figure on the floor and decided to ignore him.

"Candy…" he murmured.

When she turned to leave, Rupert grabbed her. "Don't leave me, Candy," he said in a low, hoarse voice, filled with sadness.

Candy? Who was that? Annabel was utterly confused. It was clearly a female name. Was it the name of his beloved? Did he think she was that girl?

"Rupert, let go of me!" she scolded when he tried to pull her down again.