"Careful!" A cry of alarm sounded, and a strong arm wrapped around Zoe Yale's waist, pulling her petite body into a broad, solid chest.
Charles White's body collided with William Frans, just briefly, and he quickly steadied himself.
In doing so, he also let go of the hand that was holding Zoe Yale.
Everyone's attention was focused on Zoe Yale, who almost fell into his arms; no one noticed Charles White slip something into his pocket.
"Are you alright?"
"Your complexion looks terrible; you must be scared—take a seat for a bit..."
"Exactly, your hands are ice-cold..."
"..." Surrounded by people, Zoe Yale's body became rigid.
She was buzzed by everyone's concern, but she heard not a word of it, her mind fixated on one thought: It's over, she had swallowed the sip of wine she had been holding in her mouth!
Could she still manage to induce vomiting in the restroom now?
No, what she wanted to know more urgently was who had pushed her just now?
And with such force!
