"If anything happens, I've got it."
Having had some drinks, Mr. Fitzgerald was quite bold, and his eyes were fixed solely on the coldly alluring Anna Morgan.
"Fill Miss Monroe's glass again."
President Fitzgerald shouted, and his bodyguard filled Anna's glass again, a different kind of drink, just the smell of it seemed suspicious.
The people at the table watched as President Fitzgerald dared to make a move on Anna, each of them lowering their heads to eat.
Should anything happen, they'd claim they knew nothing.
Self-preservation is the survival rule in the circle.
Zoe Quinn looked at President Fitzgerald leaning toward Anna Morgan, his hand resting on her chair, she smirked, a fallen Phoenix is inferior to a chicken.
Anna certainly wouldn't have imagined she'd face a day of being forced into something she didn't want to do.
"Miss Monroe, if you don't drink the toast and prefer the penalty drink, you can't blame me."
