Isabella took a deep breath, holding back the urge to start yelling. Instead, she walked forward and squeezed right between Ethan and Harold, forcing Ethan to let go.
She stepped into the room and only then realized it was the presidential suite. Without saying a word or even glancing at them, Isabella went straight to the sofa and sat down.
Ethan closed the door quietly behind him. Harold just stood there, waiting.
“What are you doing just standing there? Go on,” Ethan whispered.
Harold whispered back, “I’m waiting for you. We’re bros, right? It’d feel weird not to wait.”
Ethan shot him a glare, muttering something Harold couldn’t make out. The two of them finally shuffled over, dragging their feet.
“Ethan, is this what you call talking things out? Just look at Harold. Look what you did to him.”
Harold nodded hard, keeping his voice low. “Isabella, Ethan’s brutal. He went right for my face.”
Ethan jumped in, “You did the same to me! You kept aiming for my face. Babe, look at me. My face is a mess because of Harold. He hit me so hard.” Ethan whined, sounding completely pathetic. “He’s just jealous I’m better looking, so he went straight for my face. How am I supposed to show myself in public now?”
Harold shot right back, “You started it! I was just defending myself. We barely said two words before you threw a punch. I’m not an idiot, you know. I’m not just going to stand there and get hit. If anyone’s to blame, it’s you. And now you’re trying to play the victim.”
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