But in the next second, my phone was snatched away and thrown aside, followed by a burning slap across my face.
"You filthy whore! Do you think you can call the cops on me? Be grateful that I even want to sleep with you!"
As we struggled, my crop top was pulled up to my chest.
Before I could react, the door to the private room burst open with a loud bang.
A liquor bottle smashed over Reynolds's head, and blood splattered onto my lips. The metallic taste made me gag.
"Who the hell—" Mr. Reynolds, who had been ready to yell, froze when he saw who it was.
