Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love novel Chapter 31

Rosemary was a bit tipsy and slower on the uptake than usual. It wasn't until Martin called out “Maxwell” that she managed to match that mocking tone with the face behind it.

She had no clue why Maxwell would make a comeback out of the blue. But she knew what he was about to say and she didn't want Martin to get wind of it.

Almost on autopilot, Rosemary stood up from her seat and moved toward Maxwell, but her get-up was so hasty that her booze-soaked brain was numbed, causing her to stumble and fall right into the guy's arms.

Maxwell didn't budge, letting her crash into him while his handsome face was nothing but frosty indifference.

Rosemary's legs were like jelly, forcing her to cling onto his arms to barely keep herself upright. She kinda regretted knocking back so much booze!

She looked up at Maxwell and whispered so only they could hear, "Don't you dare spill."

Her voice had an unintended flirtatiousness and a tinge of vulnerability. Maxwell's jaw was set, his features sharp and grim, "What's the matter, scared he'll find out you drugged him? Afraid to shatter the pure and innocent image you've painted in his eyes?"

Rosemary frowned, her displeasure evident, which to Maxwell, felt like a tacit admission, stirring a tempest inside him.

Yet, the drunken woman was oblivious to his anger and instead complained impatiently, "Didn't you leave already? Why are you back?"

Maxwell suddenly let out a half-smile, "My bad for intruding, huh?"

Rosemary, irked by his sarcasm, scrunched her brows, "Think what you want."

After steadying herself, she let go of his hand, turned to Martin, and said her goodbyes, "I'm taking off. Don't sweat what I said earlier. I'll treat you to a meal when I'm free next time."

Clearly, it was just lip service, but it didn't stop someone from taking it to heart.

Martin nodded, "Be careful on your way."

"See ya," Rosemary turned to leave, giving Maxwell the cold shoulder. As she passed by him, her brows furrowed uncomfortably, and her steps were a bit floaty from the alcohol.

This was the second time Maxwell saw her drunk, her cheeks and lips flushed, her eyes a touch enticingly hazy.

Maxwell watched her retreating figure, his thin lips tightening, a dark turbulence brewing in his eyes.

Rosemary made her way downstairs and stood on the curb to hail a cab. It was peak taxi time, and this area was high-end, with hardly a cab in sight, let alone a vacant one.

Rosemary, throwing image to the wind, plopped down on a curbstone and whipped out her ride-hailing app.

Squinting, she leaned in to make out the display, only for her arm to be yanked forcefully, lifting her right off the curbstone.

No need to look to know who it was. The man's presence was domineering and pervasive, with a strong hint of aggression.

Rosemary's arm hurt. She twisted her brow and struggled, "Let go."

Before she could finish, Maxwell hauled her into the car with brute force.

Jason, in the driver's seat, was startled by the commotion in the back. He turned to see his boss pinning Mrs. Templeton to the backseat like wrangling a chicken.