Sweet Flash Marriage with the Restrained Tycoon (Isabelle and Damien) novel Chapter 817

Chapter 817 Drunk Harold

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“Not really. Normally it’s pretty busy, but tonight it’s just the one,” Joseph replied, glancing toward Noah.

Noah pulled up a photo on his phone and held it out. “This her?”

“Who’s asking?” Joseph wasn’t in the habit of giving out a girl’s whereabouts to just anyone.

“I’m her brother.”

“Oh.” Joseph cracked a slight smile. “Lot of people looking for her tonight, huh? Another girl came by earlier asking about her too. She’s been in the restroom awhile–might’ve passed out in there.”

“Thanks.” Noah pocketed his phone and headed inside.

Just past the entrance, he saw Katrina helping Chelsea out of the women’s restroom. Chelsea had gotten sick and was still unsteady on her feet.

“Noah…?” Chelsea mumbled, squinting as if she couldn’t trust her eyes.

She stumbled forward, leaning on Katrina, who nearly lost her balance trying to keep her upright.

Noah stepped in quickly and steadied both of them.

“Thanks!” Katrina hadn’t caught Chelsea’s muttering. She nudged Noah aside and started moving past him.

“I’ll take her home,” Noah said, taking most of Chelsea’s weight.

Katrina tugged Chelsea back, putting herself between them. “Appreciate it, but we’re good.”

Chelsea pulled her arm free from Katrina’s grip. “I gotta go with him, or I’m not getting home tonight. You head back, Katrina.”

“No way.” Katrina held on stubbornly.

Noah looked at Chelsea–disheveled and clearly out of it–then said evenly to Katrina, “I’m her brother. Real brother. Don’t worry.”

Katrina stared, speechless for a second.

Chelsea grinned, wobbled over to Noah, and looped her arm through his, leaning heavily against him. She flashed Katrina a tipsy smile. “Remember the guy I said I’d introduce you to? My brother, Noah. Not bad- looking, right?”

Katrina fell silent.

Noah had nothing to say either.

Without another word, the two of them managed to get Chelsea into the car.

Noah shut the passenger door and turned to Katrina. “Sorry for the trouble.”

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Chapter 817 Drunk Harold

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“It’s fine.”

“Need a ride?”

Katrina shook her head. “Drove myself.”

He nodded and slipped into the driver’s seat.

A light drizzle had started outside.

Streetlights glowed through the misty rain, streaking across the car windows and casting soft, shifting shadows inside.

Claudia was behind the wheel. Harold sat slumped in the passenger seat, his gaze fixed on her.

She glanced at him every so often.

“You feeling sick?”

Harold gave a faint smile. “Nah.”

“Your face is all red.”

He just smiled again and didn’t reply.

Halfway home, Claudia pulled over and hopped out to grab something from a 24–hour pharmacy. She returned with a small bag, a fine mist of rain clinging to her shoulders.

“I’m not drunk,” Harold said abruptly.

Claudia hummed in response. People who were drunk never admitted it.

Once they pulled into the garage, Claudia circled the car and opened the passenger door. She reached across to unbuckle Harold’s seatbelt.

Suddenly, his hand closed over hers.

Claudia went still, looking at him.

Harold wasn’t looking at her face–he was staring at their joined hands, as if surprised by his own action.

He didn’t know why; he’d just wanted to hold her hand.

“What’s wro-”

Before she could finish, Harold slid an arm around her waist, cupped her face, and kissed her.

It felt to Claudia like he wanted to melt her into his very bones, he held her so tightly.

His rough hand slid under her shirt, roaming over the curve of her waist.

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Chapter 817 Drunk Harold

A long moment passed before he slowly loosened his hold.

Claudia’s mind was foggy as she clumsily helped him out of the car.

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Harold was buzzed–more than usual–otherwise he wouldn’t have kissed her like that outside, not just

once.

As soon as he stood, he draped an arm over her shoulders.

Claudia wrapped her arm firmly around his back, worried he might stumble.

A soft chuckle escaped Harold.

Back at the apartment, Harold leaned against the sofa, watching the woman in the kitchen mix honey into

warm water.

“Ding-”

His phone lit up on the cushion beside him.

He glanced at the screen. A message from Keith. An apology.

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