The room bore conspicuous traces of habitation, distinct from the aura of a freshly occupied space.

With a curiosity that danced in her voice, she inquired, “Why an I here?

Blayze found himself momentarily at a loss for words, finally responding, “What is your surmise?"

Following a contemplative pause, Sabrina ventured, “Did you retrieve me from the bar?"

It was not Tyrone but Blayze, who had come to her aid on that occasion. She had drunk a fair amount. Had she erred in her judgnent?

Blayze arched an eyebrow, offering no denial.

“Blayze, I extend my heartfelt gratitude for your assistance."

Sabrina, her countenance tinged with bashfulness, tentatively inquired, “In my inebriation, did I utter anything that may have offended you?"

Such as calling Blayze Tyrone?

Though the case of mistaken identity held no grave consequence, it remained discourteous to the unrecognized, especially one such as Blayze.

“No, not in the slightest," Blayze responded, his smile reassurance itself. Sabrina breathed a sigh of relief, murmuring, “That is a relief."

Blayze's countenance took on a wry twist as he admitted, “But you did throw up all over me.

“What? Well..." Sabrina was taken aback.

“What? Your jacket bore witness to the aftermath of your indisposition. I took it upon myself to dispose of it."

With a contrite smile, Sabrina gingerly extricated herself from the covers and stood.

"I apologize profusely... And how much was your attire? I will gladly compensate you."

“You needn't trouble yourself with that. I possess substantial wealth.”

To Blayze, a mere garment hardly registered as significant. After a moment's reflection, Sabrina proposed, “How about I treat you to dinner tonight?"

Given Blayze's assistance in apprehending Hobson and his aid at the bar, it seemed only fitting for Sabrina to extend an invitation to dine.

Blayze lifted his gaze to meet hers.