Snare of Love novel Chapter 392

"Guess," Boyce taunted.

Armand grinned as he gazed at him for a few moments "Have you got a girlfriend? You brought her today?"

Boyce's eyes narrowed. He was okay if it had been someone else in the room, but it was Dolores, and one should never make fun of her.

"I won't joke about it anymore, what's there to be unhappy about?" Armand blinked a few times.

"It's Dolores," Boyce said, casting a look at him.

Armand had tensed as well. Hearing Dolores name or seeing her reminded him of Theresa.

"Well, I'll go then," he replied, his gaze fixed on the floor.

Since Theresa's departure, he's been preoccupied with work and caring for Mrs Leslie. He had last seen Dolores at the airport.

Dolores was close to Theresa, so seeing her reminded him of her. "Thought you'd gotten over it?" Boyce said, looking at him.

Why did he appear to be holding grudges against Dolores?

"No, I'm only..."

"It's all right; we did our best for you." Let's walk in and say hello to her."

Boyce entered the room, wrapping his arms around Armand.

With Armand's interruption, he had forgotten about contacting Matthew.

Dolores was the only one in the room. She sat on the couch, barefoot, sipping a glass of alcohol.

The men exchanged glances but did not look at her; they sat on one side of the table.

"Hi Dolores," Armand initiated the greeting.

Dolores looked up and realized they've entered the room. "Boyce invited you?"

“No, we met at the door,” Armand said as he took a seat on one of the sofa's corners."

Dolores gave a nod. She had no idea why they had met at the entrance.

Boyce had just excused himself to the toilet and should not have arrived at the door, but Dolores was despondent and didn't comprehend what was wrong.

Boyce gave Armand a sidelong glance but remaining mute.

Armand was unhappy as well; he had been plagued by remorse since Theresa's departure. She lost her kid as a result of his hesitation.

He poured alcohol into Dolores' glass, and the sound of the drink falling into the glass sounded like someone crying.

Dolores glanced at the glass filled with liquor. She didn't reach for it instead, "Theresa is doing well now, don't worry," she said.

Armand lowered his head and murmured, "I'm happy to hear that," in hoarse tones.

Dolores didn't say much; given what had occurred, he should have grown.

"This drink is in your honour." Armand extended his glass to Dolores.

Dolores took the glass and knocked on his. The sound of glasses colliding shattered the silence in the room.

Armand bottomed up the drink.

Dolores didn't want to drink only half of the glass, so she endured the burning feeling in her throat and finished it all.

Her brow furrowed as she felt a stinging feeling down her neck.

It wasn't until now that Armand understood Dolores wasn't in a good mood.

"Are you sad, Dolores?" he said, looking at her.

Dolores rested her chin on her arm and gazed into the candlelight. Yes, she was in a bad mood. She was depressed as she watched Jessica being imprisoned, getting thinner by the day.

As a daughter, she had been neglecting Jessica for far too long. Her focus was solely on the kids and job, not on Jessica.

Jessica, she thought, was still young, had recovered from her psychical illness, and had let go of the past.

But she was mistaken. Her physical illness had healed, but the pain Randolph had given her had not.

Dolores didn't want to ruin their good time, so she shook her head and said, "Drink up, I'll go to the restroom."

She dashed out the door after that.

She puked at the sink and felt much better and refreshed as a result.

She then switched on the tap and cleaned her face and mouth.

She grinned as she gazed up at herself in the mirror. She persuaded herself that she needed to be strong because she had a long life ahead of her and that only a healthy physique would allow her to care for Jessica and the kids in the future.

She cleaned her face and returned to the room, wanting to tell Boyce that she wanted to go home.

On her way back, a man with a cap that nearly hid half of his face approached her. "Lola," the guy said, his voice was icy and frosty.

When Dolores looked up, she noticed a familiar figure in the dim light.

They were not far apart, and the atmosphere seemed unsettling.

"Who are you?" Dolores said, taking a few steps back.

She couldn't see his face because it was partly covered by the cap.

"Who you are?" Dolores inquired again, this time in a chilly tone.

"You've forgotten about me?" the man asked, taking off his cap and revealing his face. He had a chilly, nasty expression on his face.

"Is you?" Dolores was taken aback.

She gave him a wary glance. Wasn't he supposed to be locked up? When was he released?

"Are you wondering as to why I'm here instead of in prison?" he approached her gradually.

"Don't come near me!" Dolores became worried.

Evil grinned...

A slew of wicked grins emerged, which was unsettling.