As he spoke, he reached out and grabbed the collar of Isabel Smith's dress, pulling it forcefully. With a ripping sound, her dress was torn apart.
The other men just stood by, watching with amusement, laughing and snickering.
The man who was pressing down on Isabel stared at her exposed underwear, clicked his tongue twice, and spoke with a particularly wicked tone, "I didn't expect it to be black lace... Really, all women are the same. No matter how innocent or cute they are on the outside, they're all wild on the inside."
His words were followed by another round of laughter in the private booth.
Isabel's skin was already delicate and fair, and now, under the contrast of the black lace underwear, it seemed to be so tender that it could be pinched out like water.
Seeing such a scene, the man's eyes were suddenly filled with a wave of lust. Without thinking, he raised his hand and reached for Isabel's chest.