Chapter 197: Chapter 197: Old Habits Die Hard
After speaking, Evelyn Clayton heard a chill-inducing chuckle.
James Grant seemed to be waiting for her explanation, but instead, she said something irrelevant.
The initial softness completely faded away, leaving only bone-chilling cold and gloom, with a sarcastic smile at the corner of his lips.
He gave her one last look, his thin lips tightly pressed together.
Without saying a word, he drove away.
Stunned in place, Evelyn Clayton blankly watched the luxury car drive away.
——
"Really? You touched the tiger’s butt?"
On the other end of the phone, Yara Reagan sounded surprised.
Evelyn Clayton wandered aimlessly, dispiritedly through the streets, slowly making her way to the company.
Holding the phone, Evelyn walked among the crowd.
"Yes."
She answered weakly, dragging out a lazy tone, emitting a sound through her nose.
"What should you do then, apologize?"
Apologize.
She couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Besides, it was James Grant himself who hadn’t changed those bad habits, flirting everywhere; she wasn’t wrong.
Seeing her delay in speaking, Yara Reagan saw through her little thoughts and sighed.
"Although you saw him with other women, what if he had no intentions at all, and those women approached him instead? You know, Director Grant is so handsome and rich, basically every girl’s dream guy. It’s not surprising if women flock to him."
The phone went silent again.
Evelyn Clayton took slow steps, walking down the street.
Her eyelids lowered, obscuring the emotions in her eyes, while her grip on the phone caused her fingertips to turn white.
Yara was right.
A person born in the mire, even if pulled from it one day, would still be stained.
She let out a sigh, her voice low and hoarse, "Okay."
After speaking, she hung up the phone.
Standing under a street lamp, her gaze fell on the phone screen.
Evelyn’s fingers trembled slightly as she opened James Grant’s location.
One Night Bar.
"..."
A rush of anger surged up in Evelyn.
Yara’s words echoed in her ears.
Hard to change one’s nature, nurture slowly.
She persuaded herself, then lifted her eyes, closed her phone, and caught a cab to One Night Bar.
Bar.
Evelyn Clayton watched as the location got closer, once again arriving at the door of the private room.
This time, it was different; the room was bathed in dim neon lights, bedazzling.
The music was turbulent, and she could hear the passionate cheers of people inside.
She slowed her steps, her heels touching the ground gently, like walking on clouds.
Fingers tinged blue, unconsciously squeezing the phone tighter, she moved towards the open private room.
Inside, the music was deafening, and people’s screams rose and fell.
She reached the doorway but suddenly lowered her head, holding her breath.
Evelyn Clayton closed her eyes for a moment, she was here now.
She lifted her gaze again, a surprising coldness in her eyes, and walked resolutely into the private room.
What met her eyes left her feet feeling like they were weighed with lead, her whole body frozen in place.
In the crowd, James Grant was always the most out of place.
Even surrounded by beauties, he stood out immediately.
His tense face showed a hint of drunken anger; his eyes relaxed into a squint, his shirt collar casually open as he sat there, naturally exuding a stubbornly attractive aura.
Enticing, yet unapproachable.
Those scantily clad women couldn’t wait to throw themselves at him, wishing they could devour him.
"James Grant."
Evelyn tightened her rigid body, trembling slightly, and called out softly.
Someone who recognized her in the crowd informed James Grant, who was still mingling among the flowers.
She clearly saw the sudden chill that spread across his eyes.