?Chapter 922:


    Without another word, they reached home. As soon as Norton parked the car, Yvonne bolted out, desperate to escape the suffocating tension between them. She wasn’t about to spend another second cooped up with him.


    Norton quickly followed, closing the distance in a few long strides, his hand catching her wrist. “Why the rush?” he asked, his toneced with curiosity.


    “Long legs, what can I say?” Yvonne snapped back, pulling at her arm in an attempt to free herself. She red at him, her eyes shing with defiance. Once inside, she didn’t spare him another nce, walking straight for the wine cab, her steps purposeful and brisk.


    Norton trailed behind her, leaning casually against the wall as he watched.


    Her hand paused over the bottles before selecting one—tequ, encased in a dazzling silver bottle adorned with diamonds. She held it up to Norton, a small smirk ying at the corners of her lips. “This one looks impressive, doesn’t it?”


    Norton raised an eyebrow, impressed despite himself. “You certainly have a good eye,” he remarked, moving closer as she set the bottle down and grabbed a ss.


    She poured herself a drink, not bothering to acknowledge Norton, as she downed it in one swift motion.


    “Take it easy,” Norton cautioned, his voice softening just slightly.


    Yvonne remained silent, her attention fixed on the drink in her hand as she downed another ss.


    Norton let out a soft sigh, rubbing his temples in resignation. He grabbed his own ss and poured himself a drink, trying to steady his nerves.


    Yvonne, gripping the bottle possessively, pulled it closer to her chest. “This one’s mine,” she dered sharply, then swiftly drained the remaining liquor in a single, defiant gulp.


    Norton, undeterred, moved to the liquor cab, retrieving a bottle of brandy and cing it on the table.


    Without hesitation, Yvonne discarded her empty bottle and immediately seized the brandy, clutching it with the same possessive grip. “This one’s mine too,” she asserted, her tone unwavering.


    “Yvonne, you’re drunk,” Norton said calmly, watching as the empty bottle rolledzily across the floor, its surface catching the dim light from the room.


    “I’m not drunk!” she snapped, her grip tightening around the bottle as she red at him. She wasn’t about to back down.


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    Norton approached her, slowly reaching for the bottle in her hand. He barely got a chance to touch it before she sprang to her feet, her eyes zing with fury.


    “Who are you to tell me I’m drunk? You liar! You promised I’d get to work if I cooperated with you in front of Edmond today, but you went back on your word. You’re despicable!” Her words came out in a sharp, unsteady burst as she fumbled with the bottle and opened it, tipping it to her lips, her hands shaking.


    “You’re really drunk. Stop,” Norton said firmly, swiftly taking the bottle from her hands.


    “I’m not drunk!” she protested, reaching desperately for the bottle, but he kept it out of her reach, raising it high above her head.


    “Give it to me! I hate you!”


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