Chapter 147

Evelyn Laurent squinted through her drunken haze, her fingertip lightly tapping Ethan Sullivan's chest.

"If you dare follow Xander Quincy's example..."

Her voice carried a tipsy coquetry, the ending note lifting slightly. "And side with Sophia Lowell against me..."

Ethan caught her wandering fingers, his gaze darkening abruptly.

"Never."

The word rumbled from his chest, each syllable weighted with unshakable conviction.

Evelyn tilted her head, studying him before bursting into giggles.

Her steps faltered, and she swayed into Ethan's arms. He caught her waist effortlessly, the warmth of her skin against his palm stealing his breath.

"I'm not drunk!"

Her protest was bold, but her body melted against him like liquid. The faint scent of gardenias mingled with alcohol, drifting into his senses.

Victoria Langley watched her daughter with a resigned shake of her head. Richard Langley gave his wife's hand a reassuring squeeze.

Upstairs in the suite, Evelyn curled into a kitten-like ball the moment she touched the bed. She tugged weakly at Ethan's sleeve, murmuring incoherently.

"Drink this."

Ethan knelt beside the bed, carefully supporting the nape of her neck. She wrinkled her nose after a sip, turning her face away in distaste.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a rosy hue over her porcelain skin. Ethan's gaze traced the flutter of her lashes down to her slightly parted lips.

He stood abruptly, his Adam's apple bobbing.

The overlapping shadows of the lamplight danced on the wall. Ethan retreated like a man fleeing battle, his fingers trembling as he shut the door behind him.

The next morning, Evelyn stared blankly at the ceiling.

Her temples throbbed from the hangover, yet the memories of last night remained vivid. She grabbed a pillow to smother her face, her toes curling involuntarily.

"Two percent alcohol..."

Counting the empty bottles, she suddenly remembered something and reached for her phone.

In the family group chat, Julian Langley was boasting about his heroic feat of downing three beers the previous night. Evelyn glanced at her own tally of five bottles and quietly exited the conversation.