With that question weighing on her mind, Nevaeh dialed Cyrille's number.
At that moment, Cyrille was in a hotel, tangled up with Noreen.
The shrill ring of his phone cut through the atmosphere, pulling him out of his pleasure.
His face darkened immediately.
He almost hung up, but when he saw the caller ID, he shoved Noreen, who was lying on him, to the side and muttered, "A buddy of mine is drunk. I need to help him out."
Noreen frowned. "Cyrille, you can't go."
But he didn't even look at her. He quickly got dressed and walked out.
Noreen's chest tightened in disbelief. Was he really leaving to help a friend? No, she was certain it had to be some other woman calling him.
Throwing on her clothes in a rush, she decided to follow him.
Cyrille had no clue that Noreen trailed behind him as he stepped out of the hotel.
