The moment this idea fluttered through his mind, Tyrone's grip tightened involuntarily. The veins on his hand stood out prominently, and his eyes darkened. As anger surged within him, a blend of bitterness and pain emerged, reminiscent of dampness on a drizzly day, gradually enveloping him.

Witnessing the icy chill in Tyrone’s gaze, Sabrina wriggled, trying to free herself, and exclaimed, "Tyrone, what's gotten into you? You're hurting me!"

Tyrone inhaled deeply, composed himself, and gently let go of Sabrina's hand. "You've never liked Bradley, have you? Not even from the very beginning."

Massaging her wrist, Sabrina shot Tyrone a dismissive look, spun around, and walked off, retorting, "Who I like has nothing to do with you."

Tyrone remained rooted in place, staring at her departing figure with a gloomy face.