CHAPTER 205: CHAPTER 205: ULTIMATELY NOT HIS MATCH

In Caleb Grant’s exclusive private room, over a dozen men and women sat scattered around.

There was the off-key singing of some man and the cheering of people playing games.

However, Caleb Grant did not participate in all this noise. He was drinking his own drink, unable to remember what number cup it was today.

"I say, Ethan, stop drinking alone and come join us for some fun."

"Don’t bother Ethan. He’s probably hurting from some romance."

"Romance? That young girl from last time? I thought Ethan was just playing around, but he’s got feelings?"

"Hey, that’s why I say, women aren’t worth it, smoking and drinking well is life’s real big deal. Ethan, I can call over any girl you want."

Caleb Grant downed his drink in one go, ignoring the crowd.

Just then, a buddy pushed the door open and came in, halting the singing brothers, and said to Caleb Grant, "Ethan, that woman..." Seeing Caleb Grant’s face darken and aware of his regard for Sheila Yardley, he quickly changed his words, "The missus seems to have arrived."

Caleb Grant’s eyes brightened slightly and he asked, "Where?"

"Downstairs. Lee said someone ordered lots of expensive liquor, worried it might be troublemakers, so he asked me to check it out, then I realized it might be the missus, so I came to inform you."

Upon hearing this, Caleb Grant got up and went downstairs with them.

Led by his men, he immediately spotted Sheila Yardley in the crowd.

As Sheila Yardley delivered alcohol, a man got lustful and pulled Sheila Yardley, asking her to drink with him.

Sheila Yardley naturally refused. She was about to shake off the man’s hand when she noticed Caleb Grant walking not far away.

She immediately changed her mind, sitting down next to the man, saying, "Alright, let’s not leave until we’re drunk tonight."

The man saw Sheila Yardley didn’t refuse, so he placed his hand casually on Sheila Yardley’s shoulder: "You’re bold; I love girls like you. Come on, pour a drink for the lady."

The whole table started to cheer, none noticing the murderous glare.

Caleb Grant walked over, stood by the table, and glanced at the hand on Sheila Yardley’s shoulder, his expression cold, not saying a word.

The other party saw him first and spoke up: "Isn’t this Boss Grant? Though we often visit, we rarely have the chance to meet you. If you have time, sit down for a drink?"

Caleb Grant didn’t speak, just stared at Sheila Yardley.

The noisy table suddenly went quiet, everyone looked at each other.

The man noticed Caleb Grant’s gaze too, awkwardly moved his hand away, and said to Sheila Yardley: "Miss, this is Boss Grant, he owns this bar, let’s get to know each other, make friends."

He said it while getting up and offered Caleb Grant a seat: "Boss Grant, please sit here."

Caleb Grant expressionlessly came over and sat down, and the atmosphere instantly became tense.

Sheila Yardley originally came to cause trouble, just to anger him, but seeing Caleb Grant’s demeanor now, she felt a bit uneasy.

When Caleb Grant sat down next to her, she instinctively shifted a bit aside.

"Pour the drink." He uttered blandly.

The girl across who was responsible for pouring the drinks responded, immediately picked up a clean glass, filled it with alcohol, and handed it to Caleb Grant.

Caleb Grant picked up the glass but didn’t bring it to his mouth, instead, he extended it towards Sheila Yardley.

Sheila Yardley froze, glanced at his hand holding the glass and then at Caleb Grant, slightly turning her head away, not taking the glass.

The man didn’t know who Sheila Yardley was but knew Caleb Grant shouldn’t be provoked, and said to Sheila Yardley: "Miss, Boss Grant is toasting you, drink up."

Sheila Yardley seemed not to hear, sitting unmoved.

She appeared calm on the surface, but her palms were sweaty.

Just as everyone thought Caleb Grant was going to lose his temper, he only retrieved his hand, took a sip from the glass himself, and, under the trembling gazes of the crowd, he suddenly clutched Sheila Yardley’s chin, pressed on her lips, pouring the liquid all in...

Sheila Yardley struggled to push him away, the spicy and choking feeling of the liquid made her extremely uncomfortable.

After Caleb Grant released her, she bent down and coughed violently.

Everyone watching didn’t dare speak.

No one expected that after Sheila Yardley caught her breath, without waiting for everyone’s reaction, she landed a heavy slap on Caleb Grant’s face "Pa!"

Everyone nearby gasped, afraid that Caleb Grant would get angry and implicate them.

After she slapped him, Sheila Yardley felt fear but didn’t let those emotions show on her face.

She genuinely despised this man.

Caleb Grant looked at her with hateful eyes, gritting his teeth to calm the anger within.

He stood up and pressed Sheila Yardley onto the sofa, casually grabbing a bottle from the table, pouring it on her face.

The liquid choked her nose, Sheila Yardley coughed and struggled.

"Don’t you enjoy visiting such places?" Caleb Grant ripped her strap dress, "Don’t you enjoy exposing yourself to these men?!"

Sheila Yardley was so choked with alcohol that she couldn’t speak, and no one dared to intervene.

It was clearly Caleb Grant who tore Sheila Yardley’s clothes, but given all the gazes falling onto her, it infuriated him more. He turned furiously at the crowd: "Get out!"

The table full of people seemed to be waiting for this word, each quickly got up, grabbing their belongings and swiftly left.

The subordinate then stopped the music, picked up a microphone and announced to the whole bar: "We sincerely apologize; we have to close early today, all clients will have their expenses waived, please leave promptly."

Soon, the lively bar quieted down, all patrons and staff left, leaving only Caleb Grant and Sheila Yardley.

She was ultimately no match for him; her provocation angered him, bringing not the freedom she sought but instead more relentless torment.

She gave up fighting, her blurry vision staring at the overhead lights, slowly closing her eyes, tears sliding down her temples.

Her increasingly weakened resistance caused her hand to drop to the ground.

She thought dying like this might not be so bad.

Caleb Grant stopped what he was doing, watching her lie motionlessly.

He gently tucked her alcohol-soaked hair behind her ear, using his fingertip to wipe away the tear that hadn’t dried from her eye.

The one who turned her into this was him, but the one feeling hurt deeply was also him.

She was right; his skills in pursuing girls were certainly clumsy, too clumsy.

From the start, he used the wrong way to express his love.

Perhaps his so-called love only ever brought her pain.