"Say it one more time!" Five dangerous words, accompanied by the sound of shattering glass.
When Titus Zane turned his gaze, he was startled.
The clearly jointed fingers of Nathan Moore were already stained red with fresh blood, and at this moment, droplets were falling like beads of snow.
And the previously intact wine glass was now just a few shards held in his hand.
The surprise was but a fleeting moment, as Titus Zane turned his gaze back, took the last bit of smoke in, exhaled leisurely, and said, "If you’re disgusted by the blood, go at a blood bank instead of spilling it here, wasting it and polluting the environment."
"Titus Zane!" Two words, steeped in danger.
"Hmm? I’m here." Titus Zane turned his gaze once again, casually extinguished the half-smoked cigarette in his hand, propped his forehead with one hand and slightly tilted his head, his drunken and hazy gaze meeting Nathan Moore’s black eyes, carefree and fearless.
Nathan Moore fiercely dropped the shards in his hand onto the ground, and reached inside the bar, where the Bartender had already brought over a clean towel.
Nathan Moore took it, wrapped it around the bleeding palm, his black eyes never leaving Titus Zane.
"Last time, if it weren’t for me bailing you out, do you think you could have come out unscathed?"
Mrs. Thornton was famously ferocious; even celebrities had been injured by her on several occasions—numerous unknowns even more so, and the most serious case had led to a lawsuit. In the end... a small-time celebrity without any backing could never win against a rich and powerful woman!
If it wasn’t for him safely getting her out of there, it’s unlikely she would’ve escaped being disfigured or seriously beaten.
Titus Zane looked down at Nathan Moore’s towel-wrapped hand with an uncaring sneer, "If it wasn’t for you, I could have returned perfectly intact just the same."
Colt Thornton was always ready to step in, and furthermore, the young master serving that private room had been bought over by them, just in case of any unexpected incidents.
"Do you trust Colt Thornton that much?" Nathan Moore wrapped up his injured hand, his thin lips curling into a mockery.
Titus Zane shook his index finger, with a smile that was not quite a smile, slightly shaking his head with a flirtatious charm in his eyes, "I only trust myself."
"Arrogant." Nathan Moore sneered and with a tilt of his chin towards the inside of the bar, the Bartender brought over a new wine glass and set it down before him.
Injured in the right hand, Nathan Moore used his left to pour a glass of wine for himself. After pouring, he saw that there was scarcely any wine left in Titus Zane’s glass but made no move to offer some. He put down the bottle, picked up the wine glass, and sipped slowly by himself.
Casting him a nonchalant glance, Titus Zane took no further reaction, reached for her purse, and pulled out a pack of ladies’ cigarettes. Fetching one, she placed it between her lips; her pale, slender hand spread out in front of Nathan Moore.
"Hand it over!" She was asking Nathan Moore for her lighter.
Gazing at her dismissively, Nathan Moore made no move. Suddenly, he turned around, propped his arm on the bar, half-leaning and looking towards the club’s central stage, leaving Titus Zane with a cold back view.
Curled her lips slightly, she didn’t continue to demand from him but turned instead and snapped her fingers at the Bartender.
"Handsome, lend me a lighter, will you?"
The Bartender looked up at Nathan Moore and pulled out a lighter from the bar’s cabinet and handed it to Titus Zane.
"Thank you." Titus Zane curled her lips, the smile filled with feminine allure.
The Bartender glanced at Nathan Moore once more, gave a slight nod, and went back to his work.
Lighting the cigarette, Titus Zane took a drag, exhaling with a puff.
The taste of the smoke wasn’t all that great, but it helped her pass the tedious time.
Taking another drag, she tilted her head back and drank the last bit of wine from her glass. Pushing the empty glass forward, she said, "Another one, add something strong!"