The group of doctors gathered, their hushed whispers filled with a mix of curiosity and envy. One of them, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief, leaned in and asked, "Do you know Rayleigh MacKenzie?"
Another doctor, his eyebrows raised in recognition, replied, "Oh, you mean Anthony's daughter?"
"The one who's single and beautiful?" A third doctor chimed in, smiling while sipping his champagne.
"The super smart orthopaedic surgeon?" The first doctor continued, his tone laced with a hint of admiration, his eyes fixed on the beautiful Rayleigh, who had stood up among the crowd at the event.
Suddenly, a female doctor sauntered over, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Oh, I slept with her once, years ago," she confessed, her words eliciting a collective gasp from the group.
"What? You slept with her?" One of the male doctors exclaimed, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Is she... is she a lesbian?"
The female doctor nodded, her expression unperturbed. "She is, and she's never hidden that fact."
The first doctor's face fell; he had plans for wooing Rayleigh. "What? No! She's coming today, and I'll use everything in my power to win her over! She's the sole heir to the hospital her father owns, right?"
The female doctor let out a scoff, her eyes dancing with amusement. "She's the sole heir, and she's a lesbian. Don't you see the woman she's bringing with her today?"
The group of doctors exchanged bewildered glances, their minds racing to put the pieces together. "Not Lauren Thompson?" one of them asked. The news of how close Rayleigh is to Lauren Thompson from the pediatric department and how possessive Lauren is over her was always the top news in the doctor's community.
"Lauren's come by herself; suit herself," the female doctor retorted, a knowing smile gracing her features. "Well, good for you then. Go ahead and try to pursue a lesbian," she added, her laughter tinged with a touch of mockery.
The first doctor, undeterred by the revelation, straightened his posture and declared, "I can always present myself to her father. I bet he doesn't know, right?"
The female doctor shook her head in amusement and disbelief. "Oh, dear, you have no idea what you're up against," she murmured, her gaze sweeping over the group of doctors, each one harboring their own dreams and delusions about the rich and beautiful doctor Rayleigh MacKenzie. "Jonathan is fully okay with his daughter being a lesbian." The female doctor is leaving for good while still sipping champagne.
"Awwww, shit." The rest of the male doctors cursed under their breath.
Isabelle had no idea her girlfriend was such a famous person who charmed others. But she couldn't blame them for getting drawn to Rayleigh's attraction. After all, who could resist the pull of such a beautiful, talented woman—not only a smart doctor but also the daughter of a major New York hospital owner?
As Isabelle's gaze settled upon her beloved, she couldn't help but admire Rayleigh's effortless elegance. The dress she chose for the occasion was authentic evidence of her outstanding style: an espresso brown jersey masterpiece by the famous Salvatore Ferragamo.
The dress's round neckline and short sleeves nicely highlighted Rayleigh's tall, slim figure. The modest use of gold-tone hardware offered a sense of grandeur, while the thigh-length hem exuded polished sophistication. The supple, soft cloth appeared to complement Rayleigh's light, porcelain skin well.
Isabelle admired the dress's ability to give off Rayleigh a majestic yet approachable atmosphere—the ideal blend of sophistication and friendliness. And her natural appearance, complemented by a touch of modest makeup, simply added to her beauty.
As Rayleigh approached, her long arm wrapping possessively around Isabelle's waist, she leaned in and whispered, "Do you like what you see?"
Isabelle couldn't help but smile, her heart swelling with adoration. "Absolutely," she responded, her voice soft and sincere.
Rayleigh rewarded her with a gentle, loving kiss, her lips caressing Isabelle's with a tenderness that belied the public setting. "I love you," she murmured, her words eliciting a collective gasp from the people around them.
In that moment, Isabelle felt like the luckiest woman in the world. She had the love of a woman who was not only stunning in appearance but also deeply caring and devoted.
Lauren's gaze was filled with a smoldering hatred as she watched Rayleigh and Isabelle's intimate exchange. She woke up this morning full of hope that she could change Rayleigh's impression of her. She had hoped that wearing a sleek and sensual bow-trim off-the-shoulder minidress would bring out her shape and portray herself as an appealing, desired choice.
However, Rayleigh emerged from her room and made her way to the hotel lobby, accompanied by an exceptionally beautiful woman. Rayleigh, dressed in an espresso brown Salvatore Ferragamo dress, radiated an effortless grace that Lauren could never match. And Isabelle, breathtaking in a Versace Jeans Couture midi dress with a stunning monochrome design, just added to Lauren's envy.
The black dress, with its baroque-inspired clasp at the shoulder, clung to Isabelle's curves in a way that was beyond all expectations and absolutely stunning. It matched her olive skin and regal demeanor, making her look like a beauty queen on the red carpet. Paired with Rayleigh's attractive appearance, the two women created an image of dazzling couple perfection that struck a deep sense of pain through Lauren's heart.
Lauren watched, her fingers clenching into fists, as Rayleigh pulled Isabelle closer, their bodies intertwined with a familiarity that spoke of a deep, unbreakable bond. The soft murmur of Rayleigh's words, the gentle caress of her lips upon Isabelle's—it was a sight that Lauren had so desperately longed to happen to her all these years, only to see that Rayleigh did it to someone else other than her.
Thomas suddenly appeared at Lauren's side, his brow furrowed with concern. "You should calm down, Laur. Those looks don't suit you," he said, handing her a glass of champagne.
"Oh, it's you," Lauren replied; she sounds irritated.
Thomas chuckled. "What's wrong with me? Don't I look handsome?"
Lauren rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you are. Now, leave me alone."
"That's the same woman she introduced to me in Bangkok, Rose, I think. Is that her name?" Thomas asked, his gaze fixed on the figures of Rayleigh and Isabelle, "Damn, they look great together."
"She called her Belle," Lauren scoffed.
"Belle is for Rayleigh only. The other people call her Rose," Thomas added, mimicking Rayleigh's words to him.
"You're making it worse," Lauren groaned, her grip tightening on the champagne glass.
Thomas shrugged, undeterred. "Why? I'm here with you, bringing you a glass of champagne. I'm good-looking, rich, and a successful orthopedic surgeon. What about me makes it so terrible for you?" he asked boldly. "Is it because I'm not Rayleigh?"