NovelUSAChapter 224 Wendy had a date, so she didn't ride back with Isadora.
Before leaving, Isadora turned to Rowena and said, "Rowena, take care of your uncle for now. Wendy and I will handle things at Seafarer Designs. You don't need to worry." She returned to Summit Crest Estates.
The house was shrouded in silence and dimness, the only light spilling in from the tall windows where the moon hung pale and high, casting a cool, silvery glow across the room.
Isadora didn't bother turning on the lights. She slipped off her heels, letting them fall to the floor, and padded barefoot straight to the liquor cabinet.
The cabtook up an entire wall in the living room, stacked with dozens of expensive bottles-whiskey, gin, fine wine-all glinting in the moonlight.
She sat down on the floor in front of the couch, unscrewed the cap from a bottle, and watched the liquor swirl inside like shattered moonbeams.
She started drinking, one swallow after another.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtAs the alcohol burned its way down, her eyes grew red and stung with unshed tears.
Isadora looked down at her wrists: two delicate bracelets-one set with sapphires, the other a crystal one Margaret had given her.
Her voice caught in her throat. “Grandma, I miss you so much." She kept drinking. One bottle emptied, then another.
Her cheeks flushed, her head began to spin, and her mind drifted in and out of clarity.
Suddenly, there was a soft click.
A second later, the living room lights flickered on.
Victor stood in the doorway, tall and composed, one hand in his pocket. The sharp scent of alcohol in the air made him frown.
If he didn't know that Summit Crest Estates' security staff were all former elite peacekeepers, he might have thought his hhad been broken into.
Victor's dark gaze swept the room, landing on Isadora, who sat on the floor by the full-length windows, drinking in the moonlight.
Bathed in the silver glow, her slender figure looked draped in fragile gauze, lonely and lost.
He walked over, noticing the empty bottles strewn carelessly on the floor.
He couldn't help but let out a short, incredulous laugh.
Trust her to go straight for the most expensive bottles.
"Not enough at the Greenhouse Lounge? Had to keep drinking at home?" Isadora turned slowly, recognizing his voice, her face flushed with drink.
Her eyes glimmered with tears, her nose was pink, and her lips, cherry-red and inviting, parted as she breathed in the scent of alcohol and something sweeter.
Victor slouched down on the sofa beside her, his gaze lingering on her for a long moment.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmHe reached out and gently pinched her flushed cheek. Her skin was burning hot beneath his fingers-hot enough to send a jolt straight to his heart.
Isadora mumbled, her words tangled, "Don't... touch me." "Who am I?" he teased.
"You're... a jerk. The one who bullies me... a big jerk." Victor's mouth twitched. "Oh, really?" So she was upset because he hadn't given her an answer-a reason to drink herself sick?
His eyes darkened, and he was silent for a few seconds. Finally, he asked softly, "Isadora, is being withreally that unbearable?"
But Isadora was far too drunk to understand him. She just felt sick-her n.
chest tight, her stomach churning. Something inside her twisted, the discomfort rising until she couldn't hold it back anymore. Suddenly, she retched.
She threw up right there on the floor, on herself, on Victor.
Victor, always so meticulous and a stickler for cleanliness, grimaced.
His black suit pants were splattered; the carpet was a disaster.
He forced down his irritation and, a moment later, mustered his patience. Without angthe word, he scooped her up; cradling her in his arms, and carried her straight to the bathroom.
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