Winning Her Heart Back



I'll Drink This Glass

All eyes turned to Emelie in an instant.

She lifted a smile devoid of warmth.

"An accident," she said lightly.

However, her expression was far from relaxed. It was like the frozen shores of a lake in

winter, where the ice wouldn't melt even under the sun.

She fixed her gaze on Daphne, who was sprawled on the floor, and a hint of dark red seemed to glimmer in her eyes.

Daphne instinctively sensed danger. She sobbed and crawled backward on the floor.

William quickly moved to grasp Emelie's hand.

Emelie's gaze immediately shifted to his face.

He was frowning as he looked at her hand. Her palm had been cut by the shattered glass, with a few drops of blood splattering onto the tiled floor like tiny red fireworks.

But upon closer inspection, it wasn't as bad as it looked. There were only two minor cuts, and since she usually wore gloves, the wounds weren't deep.

Bryan turned and ordered a maid, "Bring the first aid kit."Text © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

Emelie tried to pull her hand back forcefully, but William held on tightly.

She exhaled slowly. "I'm not in a good mood right now, Mr. Middleton. Don't push me."

William calmly retorted, "It's not like you haven't done that before."

The two stared at each other.

One of them had raging emotions under a cold exterior, while the other remained calm and seemingly indifferent to anything that she might do

Beathan and Bryan exchanged glances.

Beathan took a sip of his wine with a smile while Bryan's gaze shifted slightly to the two glasses of plum wine near Patrice's hand.

The liquid in the plum wine was pale green, like a poisonous potion from a fairy tale that exuded an unsettling air.

Emelie looked down and saw that Daphne had already vomited. She asked, "Did I tell you to stop?"

Lyle decided to grab Daphne by the hair and force the bottle back into her mouth.

Lyle had never claimed to be a gentleman. His only rule was that anyone who harmed Emelie had to pay the price.

Emelie sneered. "Mr. Middleton, take a good look at your true love."

"I'm looking," William said.

Emelie was referring to Daphne, yet William didn't even lift his eyes to look. Instead, he carefully removed her glove.

The maid quickly brought over a first aid kit, and William began by rinsing her wound with saline solution.

Emelie watched his movements coldly. "Mr. Middleton, if you're so concerned, you can drink on her behalf."

William sprinkled some medicine onto her palm. "I only care about your injury. Next time, don't do this. There are many ways to vent your anger. You don't need to hurt yourself."

He lifted his eyes to meet hers. "As for her, I just want to know if doing this really satisfies you."

Emelie replied in a detached tone, "You can drink for her. I don't mind cheating. Anyone can drink these 18 bottles tonight. I just want them finished."

William looked at her face as he carefully wrapped her hand with gauze.

"You didn't want me to drink for her. You want me to drink solely because you want me to, don't you?" His voice was low as he continued, "Did you recall the time when I forced you to drink?"

Emelie's face remained expressionless, but her eyes were as still as a frozen lake.

William put the first aid kit away, then casually picked up a glass of untouched wine from the table.

He had drunk the least that evening, probably not even half a glass in total. Yet now, he downed the entire glass of plum wine in one go.

Patrice stood up suddenly. "Will!"

Lyle dropped Daphne, who was nearly passed out drunk by now.

He frowned. "Emelie, Will is not in great shape. He can't drink."

Perhaps it was the medicine seeping into the wound that Emelie belatedly felt the pain coming from her palm.

William picked up another glass. "How many glasses did you drink back then?"

She didn't respond, so he drank another glass.

Lyle couldn't stand it any longer and rushed over to grab William's hand. "Will!"

William turned the glass upside down, and the strong liquor burned through his insides. He pressed his hand against his heart, coughing heavily as the alcohol seared his lungs.

He was in pain, just as she had been in pain when she drank three days after her miscarriage. He was using his fragile, ailing body to repay her for the agony she had endured

back then.

Emelie clenched her teeth, and a deep red began to spread in her eyes.