?Chapter 980:


    Inside a booth, a woman in a skin-tight leather dress noticed Norton. Drink in hand, she strode toward the entrance. She lifted her ss with a yful smirk.


    “Hey there, handsome—how about a drink on me?”


    “Get lost.” Norton didn’t even look at her.


    From the second he entered, his eyes had been scanning for one person—Yvonne. Sure enough, she was still on the dance floor, dancing with bold, electrifying energy. Her movements were unapologetically provocative.


    Norton moved through the crowd, pushing past the crush of bodies swaying to the beat, until he reached the front of the dance floor.


    The DJ’s music sted so loudly that even when Norton shouted, the heavy bass drowned out his voice.


    He stared at her, fury building as he saw the way men ogled her with shameless hunger. His patience snapped.


    At once, he climbed onto the stage and draped his jacket around Yvonne’s shoulders, shielding her.


    “You’re leaving. Now.” His voice was low and filled with barely contained anger.


    “I’m not going anywhere.” Yvonne pulled her arm back, swaying a little as she did. Her eyes sparkled with drunken defiance.


    Spotting him clearly now, she stepped closer and poked his chest, shing a grin. “Norton, you’ve been working out. You’re so hot.”


    Norton’s hands balled into fists. “You’re getting bolder by the day.”


    “What?” she shouted, struggling to hear him over the pulsing beat.


    He exhaled sharply, frustration spilling over.


    Without another word, he stepped forward and scooped her into his arms.


    Yvonne squealed in surprise, then quickly looped her arms around his for bnce.


    “Norton, what on earth are you doing?”


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    He didn’t answer; he just strode straight for the exit, holding her firmly.


    “I don’t want to leave! I haven’t finished dancing, and I still need to say goodbye to Mr. Marsh and my riding buddies!” She squirmed in his grip, but he didn’t loosen his hold.


    At her words, he frowned, his jaw tightening, eyes narrowing. “Mr…”


    “Marsh? Riding buddies?”


    “Set me down!”


    He didn’t respond. He marched out of the nightclub, where Leif rushed ahead to open the car door.


    He set her in the back seat without ceremony.


    “Get a driver,” he told Leif, tossing him the keys before sliding in beside her.


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