Even After Death

Chapter 83

Ethan’s impression was still the same as the last time, when she’d thrown a pot of porridge at him a few days ago. She’d been furious and crazy, and she’d looked just like an angry cat.

Now, sfie was the exact opposite of that. Standing with her head bowed, she anxiously shifted from one foot to the other.

Olivia tried to overcome the discomfort and awkwardness she felt under his gaze. Softly, she said, “I want to ask you for a

favor.”

A laugh escaped his mouth as he sat with his legs crossed, plucking out a cigarette from a box. She knew he was mocking her. ” What do you want now?” He asked.

Jason Yates, a rich youngster, stood not far away from them. Somehow, he was able to discern the slight difference in the way Ethan treated her

As he approached them, he said, “There’s no one in this world who wouldn’t want to ask Mr. Miller for help. Young lady, is this the attitude you should have when you’re asking someone for help? Hurry and light Mr. Miller’s cigarette for him.”

Jason ushered Olivia to stand beside Ethan as the latter leaned in his seat, looking as lackadaisical as ever. Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

Apart from the tit–for–tat exchanges they’d had in the past two years, he’d used to be more polite and had more self- restraint. He’d never smoked in front of her.

Now, though, his collar was open, and the top two buttons were unbuttoned. The dim light emphasized his already prominent facial features, making him appear all the more formidable.

As Olivia busied herself to find a lighter, she met Ethan’s deep eyes, which seemed to be judging her. She couldn’t care less what he thought of her and proceeded to bend over with one knee on the couch.

She leaned forward, ready to light the cigarette. Since she and Ethan were not of equal standing, she was forced to be humble

around him.

The light from the flame of the lighter cast a flickering glow on his face. As he lowered his eyes, a hint of a smile hung at the corner of his lips for some unknown reason.

“I seem to recall that you once said you’d rather jump from the seventh floor of a building than come to me for help,” he said.

That sentence was like a humiliating slap. She hadn’t expected her father to get caught up in something like this and hence need Ethan’s help. Still, she wasn’t in the mood to guess what he thought of her, so she simply bent lower toward him.

In a humble voice, she said, “You’re a magnanimous man, Mr. Miller. I’m sure you wouldn’t be mad at something so trivial.”

The gears in Jason’s mind started turning.

Ethan had never let any woman close to him, but this woman seemed to be the only exception. Although she was dressed a little too modestly, she had a pretty face, which could suit Ethan’s taste.

Hurriedly, Jason poured three glasses of whiskey for Olivia and rapped his fingers on the table. “This is the way things work.”

Olivia furrowed her brows. Half a glass of this was enough to make her pass out, yet he wanted her to down three of them.

She glanced at Ethan, who then propped a hand under his chin and said nonchalantly, “What excuse are you going to come up with this time? That you’re feeling uncomfortable or that you’re sick to the point of no return?”

The sneer on his lips was as clear as day. He knew that she had a low alcohol tolerance, but he enjoyed making things tough for her. Perhaps this was him taking revenge on her.

Olivia felt her heart clench when she recalled the times he’d forbidden her from touching alcohol. Things were different for them now. Ethan sat there with his chin tilted slightly upward.

The air of arrogance and prestige he exuded was evident to anyone around him, and it ultimately put a wall between them. To him, she had been a puny and powerless wealding from the beginning.

Now that she’d thought things through, Olivia’s mind zeroed in on saving her father. Her life and dignity were nothing in the face of saving him.

She raised one of the glasses into the air and downed the drink in one long gulp. She didn’t drink often and was clueless about the quality of the whiskey. All she knew was that her throat was on fire after she finished it.

Pain. Not only did it burn her throat, but it also made her stomach hurt. Her clothes were thick, trapping heat and soaking her

in her own sweat.

Her stomach was torturing her as it churned like a whirlpool inside of her. She pressed one hand on her stomach, then reached for the second glass with the other.