A hint of a smile appeared on Mitchel's face, but he quickly hid it.

Humph! He was still upset. He had to keep his poker face.

"You!" The woman grasped her chest, struggling to articulate her frustration.

Raegan chose not to engage further with the woman. Turning her attention to Mitchel, she asked, "Could we have a word?"

Despite his urge to look up at Raegan, Mitchel, without so much as a glance, grabbed another drink and stated icily, "I'm busy." His voice was devoid of any warmth, treating Raegan as if she were a stranger.

Raegan felt a pang of hurt. "I just need a moment."

Noticing Mr. Ortega's fixed stare on Raegan, Mitchel's irritation grew. He knitted his brows and said impatiently, "I told you I'm busy. Isn't that clear enough?"

"Matteo!" Mitchel questioned, “What are you waiting for?" His implication was to have Matteo show Raegan to the door.

Matteo was puzzled, wondering if the alcohol had dulled Mitchel's senses.

Raegan got straight to the point, asking, “Mitchel, were you in Ashfield last night?"

The question seemed to strike a nerve, as Mitchel's look turned even colder. He retorted, "Asking about my whereabouts? Who do you think you are to me?"

Raegan inhaled deeply and confessed, "I'm someone who wants to give us a try. Does that count for anything?"

Raegan's words stirred something in Mitchel, his desire to draw her into his arms burning. She wanted to give them a try? But why did she lie to him last night? She was with Stefan the previous night, yet she claimed she was with someone he wasn't familiar with. He had rushed over upon learning her whereabouts, only to meet with her entering the hotel with Stefan. Nah! He couldn't stomach that.

Reflecting on the previous night, Mitchel clenched his teeth, his voice icy and sharp. "You want to give us a try? Do you think you're skilled at playing games?"

Mitchel's face turned stern, exuding a daunting aura.

Raegan felt a chill. She bit her lip, saying, “I didn't..

But Raegan was interrupted by a mocking voice nearby. "So, you've been rejected and you're pathetically holding on. Drop the act of being decent!"

The woman assumed Raegan was one of her kind.

Clad in fine clothes, Raegan appeared affluent, clearly not sharing the woman's occupation.

But to the woman, Raegan was just another poor thing dumped by a man, no better than herself. “What a sight! This gentleman has turned you away and here you are, shamelessly trying to win him back!"