Preston Keaton lowered his gaze, watching her in silence. He narrowed his eyes, his dark pupils radiating a dim, cold, profound meaning.
He parted his thin lips. "You've been drinking."
It wasn't a question.
The young woman's face was faintly flushed, her breaths soft and sweet. She tilted her head up obediently, her eyes seeming to hold a glimmer of starlight.
She looked exquisite in black. Her skin was fair and smooth, revealing her elegant collarbones and swan-like neck. A glittering diamond necklace adorned her throat, echoing the sparkle in her eyes and creating a breathtaking sight in the darkness.
Her vibrant beauty held a delicate charm unique to her, now softened into an enchanting tenderness by the touch of alcohol.
She just happened to have such an alluring little face.
Evelyn Grant held up her thumb and index finger. "Just a tiny bit. I didn't dare drink too much."
After Sini left, she had secretly grabbed another glass—a tequila cocktail.
