I Fell for the Man Who Ruined Me, Then He Forgot He Ever Loved Me Back novel Chapter 236

The entire space was dead silent.

The men who had been lounging haphazardly on the sofas suddenly sat bolt upright, their hands resting stiffly on their knees. The atmosphere was undeniably tense.

A man in a red shirt leaned over and whispered to Silas Lester.

Silas shot him a sideways glance. "Aren't you the one always bragging about your buddy Jorrod? Now that he's actually here, you're asking me when he's going to leave."

The man in red immediately defended himself.

He had wanted a relaxed hangout where they could grab a drink and chat. He didn't sign up for this suffocating pressure, where sitting on a bar sofa felt like waiting for a corporate board meeting to commence. How was anyone supposed to have fun?

One by one, the wealthy heirs offered awkward greetings to Jorrod Vaughn.

Jorrod, who was genuinely busy, simply offered a curt nod before diving back into his work.

It was a bizarre sight. None of them had ever seen someone come to a bar, ignore the alcohol and the conversation, and furiously type away on a laptop like a maniac.

Were they just background extras in Jorrod's overtime show?

Despite the lingering awkwardness and restraint, they eventually had to move on.

Fortunately, Jorrod was completely absorbed in his own world. As time passed, the group grew accustomed to his silent presence and resumed their usual drinking and chatting.

This gathering had been organized by Weston Whitman, the heir to the Whitman Group. Whenever anyone asked him what the occasion was, his eyes would well up with tears.

To sum it up:

His girlfriend had dumped him and immediately gotten back together with her ex.

The guy in the red shirt mocked him for being pathetic and crying over a woman. Weston shot back, calling him heartless and declaring that a man who cried for love was the greatest kind of man.

"But aren't you crying over someone else's love story?" the guy in red retorted.

Weston buried his face in his hands and sobbed uncontrollably.

On the opposite sofa, Jorrod snapped his laptop shut with a sharp thud.

Instantly, even Weston's dramatic sobbing hitched to a halt.

Jorrod swept a cold glance over the group, stood up, and walked out.

From start to finish, he had remained stoic and composed. His icy demeanor was a far cry from someone who had come out to relax.

The guy in the red shirt sat there, completely baffled.

He turned to Silas and asked if Jorrod was dealing with some minor trouble that he could perhaps help with.

Silas watched Jorrod's tall, retreating figure and took a sip of his cocktail. He let out a dry laugh. "What trouble could he possibly have? Your buddy Jorrod is just too damn stubborn. He's wound up so tight that he needs to go find a wall to punch."