Ashley Bowen's eyes were glued to the slippers on the floor, to the woman's bra and panties. In that instant, her lips trembled so violently she couldn't speak.
Even a fool would understand what was going on.
'Yuri Sinclair and Sylvia Young... in *their* room? Did they sleep together?'
'How could they...'
Ashley grabbed her hair and fled the bedroom as if escaping a fire. She was terrified Yuri would wake up and see her in such a panicked, pathetic state.
She ran so fast she didn't see where she was going. With a loud THUD, she tripped on a small step and fell hard to the ground.
She landed face-first. Her nose slammed against the cold floor, and a sharp, aching pain shot through it. A warm stream of blood immediately gushed out, dripping onto the floor. DRIP. DRIP.
'Wasn't I miserable enough? But fate doesn't seem to have any sympathy for me. It even has to make me fall while I'm walking!'
