Abandoned by All I Took It All Back novel Chapter 335

To steel his nerves, John opened a bottle of cheap whiskey and took a swig.

He knew drinking could lead to mistakes, so he didn't have much—just enough to give him some courage while keeping his head clear.

He pulled out his phone, found a number, and dialed.

He tried several times, but there was no answer.

"Damn it!" he roared in frustration.

In the next room, Dylan heard the commotion and thought something was wrong. He rushed over. "Boss, what's wrong?"

John waved him off. "It's nothing. Go back to what you were doing."

This wasn't something he could share with Dylan.

"Okay, just call me if you need anything," Dylan said before returning to the other room to continue preparing the tools.

After ten consecutive calls, someone finally picked up.

John’s expression hardened. He took another gulp of whiskey, leaned back in his chair with a lazy air, and prepared to negotiate.

A middle-aged woman's voice came through the line. "Hello, who is this?"

"It's me, John Grant," he said, his tone slightly slurred from the alcohol.

"Hmm? John Grant? I don't know anyone by that name. You must have the wrong number," Silvia said, racking her brain but coming up with nothing.

John almost choked. This wretched woman had actually forgotten him.

Was he that forgettable?

"Ms. Silvia, you sure have a short memory. Don't you remember me? You were touching my abs just the other day."

The mention of abs made Silvia pause. She had touched a lot of men's abs. Every time she and her friends went to the club, they hired male dancers. Touching their abs was just part of the fun.

She assumed he was just one of the many dancers she'd hired and felt a wave of disgust.

"How did you get my number? What do you want?"

"Pfft! You think some cheap gigolo is worth that much? I wouldn't take you for free. Besides, why the hell should I give you any money? Are you out of your mind?" Silvia spewed a string of insults, not giving him a chance to speak.

When she was finished, she hung up.

John was so furious that Silvia had not only cursed him but also hung up on him that he hopped on the spot, wanting to smash his phone but not being able to bring himself to do it. Instead, he balled his fists and punched the wall a few times to vent his anger.

He clutched his chest, forcing himself to calm down, and dialed the number again. This time, he would be direct.

Silvia didn't answer. She had blocked his number.

John gritted his teeth.

Damn it!

That bitch Silvia! he thought.

Here he was, risking his life, while that mother-daughter duo sat back and reaped the benefits. They were just using him like a disposable tool.