But when the woman spoke, Tristan Sterling's heart sank.
It wasn't Holly Sinclair.
It was Vivian Linton.
"What are you doing up here?" Tristan Sterling paused while drying his hair, his sharp brows furrowing slightly.
"Tristan…"
Vivian Linton's face was flushed, her eyes smoldered, and her sweet, delicate voice sounded incredibly seductive.
She wore a tight red dress that accentuated her curvaceous figure, exuding an air of captivating, multifaceted charm.
This was her battle attire, something she had put on specially for him.
Twenty minutes ago, she had personally witnessed the scene of Tristan pinning Holly Sinclair against his desk.
He had been kissing Holly ferociously, as if he wanted to devour her whole.
The desire in his eyes had pierced her heart.
'Why?'
'Why could he feel such intense desire for that bitch, Holly, yet be so stingy as to not even grant her a kiss?'
'No!'
'She didn't believe it!'
