Hazel, still swaying slightly from the effects of the wine, raised her head to meet the gaze of the man who had abruptly yanked her away.
To her tipsy senses, he appeared like a good-looking figure, and she greeted him with a casual.
"Hey."
The person who had forcefully intervened was none other than Francisco. He held Hazel in his arms, his eyes momentarily locking onto hers before shifting to Rafael, who stood a short distance away.
"Mr. Francisco, you shouldn't have pulled her in this way. She could be hurt."
Rafael admonished, his tone carrying a hint of anger as he clenched his fists in disapproval.
Francisco's anger, palpable and etched on his face, flared in response.
"How dare you touch my PA?"
He spat, the words filled with a possessiveness that revealed more than a professional attachment.
"She is your PA, not your girlfriend. So, dare not say it."
Rafael retorted defiantly, drawing a line between professional boundaries.
As the tension escalated on the dance floor, Hazel, caught between the conflicting emotions of Rafael and Francisco, turned to Rafael with a soft tone.
"Rafael, why are you so far from me?"
Rafael, seemingly about to reach out to Hazel, found himself pushed away by Francisco. The anger on Francisco's face was palpable, and his stern voice echoed through the momentarily hushed atmosphere.
The onlookers, those who had been dancing and reveling in the party, now stood still, their attention drawn to the unfolding drama.
"How dare you?"
Francisco's words cut through the air, filled with possessiveness and a hint of fury.
The dance floor, once vibrant with movement, was now a stage for a confrontation that seemed to transcend the boundaries of a mere professional disagreement.
"She doesn't like your company. Let me handle her."
Rafael declared, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. At that moment, he projected an air of authority that demanded obedience.
Francisco, undeterred by Rafael's display, arched an eyebrow and shot back, "Who the hell are you?"
Rafael clenched his fists in frustration, grappling with the situation. He couldn't fathom how to intervene effectively.
"You know I have the right to do it. What is the assurance that you will not take advantage of her?"
Amidst the escalating conflict, Hazel repeated Rafael's name, a plea in her tone.
"Rafael!"
However, Francisco, unyielding, tightened his grip on Hazel's arms.
"Ms, let's go. I will drive you home."
Rafael declared with an authoritative tone, making his intentions clear.
In her slightly intoxicated state, Hazel nodded in agreement, her gaze shifting between Francisco and Rafael.
"Mr, I need to go with him. So please…."
She attempted to voice her desire to go with Rafael, but Francisco interrupted her mid-sentence.
"She is my PA. I can drive her home," Francisco asserted, his possessiveness over Hazel evident in his words and actions.
"Hey, where are you taking me?"
Hazel's voice rang out in confusion and protest as Francisco, seemingly ignoring her, carried her away from the crowd.
The onlookers, both surprised and intrigued, watched this unexpected turn of events. Francisco, typically the center of attention for romantic pursuits, was now creating a stir by fiercely defending Hazel.
The crowd couldn't help but engage in speculative murmurs.
Had Francisco finally chosen someone?
What about Emily?
Had Francisco dumped her already?
Gossipy whispers spread like wildfire among the curious onlookers.
Francisco, driven by his inner turmoil, remained silent and walked briskly, seemingly determined to distance himself from the prying eyes and judgmental whispers.
Rafael, not ready to let the situation escalate further, shouted after them.
"Francisco!"
Unable to contain his anger any longer, Francisco abruptly put Hazel down and, with a swift movement, seized her with one hand while grabbing Rafael's collar with the other.
The abrupt confrontation had drawn the attention of everyone in the vicinity. Expecting a physical clash, the attendees stepped back, creating a makeshift circle around Francisco and Rafael.
Rafael, not one to back down, grabbed Francisco's hand in response. The standoff escalated when Francisco's guards swiftly entered the scene, brandishing their guns and pointing them at Rafael. The cold, ominous atmosphere intensified as the partygoers watched in silence, uncertain of how the situation would unfold.
In a hushed tone laden with restrained anger, Francisco issued a warning to Rafael.
"You don't dare think about it."
The weight of his rage hung heavily in the air, setting the stage for a potentially explosive confrontation.
Rafael, undeterred, maintained eye contact with Francisco as he retorted, "Because of this, you know I can lock you up."
Rafael's words echoed in the room, hinting at a deeper conflict that extended beyond the immediate confrontation.
Francisco's narrowed eyes, a calm demeanor, masked the turmoil within.
"You can't," he asserted cryptically.
"You know better why you can't."
With a dismissive shove, Francisco pushed Rafael aside and, without further engagement, lifted Hazel into his arms. Despite her intoxicated attempts to resist, Hazel found herself carried away, powerless against Francisco's strength. Her futile struggles garnered sympathetic glances from some onlookers, while others exchanged speculative looks, attempting to decipher the complexities of the relationships.
Rafael, seething with anger, stood in the aftermath of the altercation, his eyes fixed on Francisco's departing.
As he witnessed Francisco pushing Hazel into the car and locking the door, a surge of frustration and resentment welled up within him. Rafael swiftly retrieved his mobile phone, his fingers dancing across the screen as he dialed a number.
Meanwhile, Francisco stepped out of the venue only to find his car waiting for him, the door opened by his vigilant guard. His expression remained stern as he tossed Hazel into the car, and then he entered himself.
Inside the car, Hazel, still intoxicated, was not one to passively accept her predicament. Fueled by the desire to return to the dance floor, she attempted to open the car door with determined persistence. Her slurred words conveyed her insistence.
"What are you up to? I want to dance there. Let me go."