?Chapter 661:


    “I— I was just talking nonsense. I had too much to drink. Please, do not take it seriously,” Miguel stammered, his bravado now reced with panicked submission.


    “I don’t smell any alcohol on you,” Karina observed, stepping into the room with a piercing gaze that immediately locked onto Miguel. She took a small, deliberate step closer, almost as if testing the air around him.


    “Probably just some watered-down version of what’s supposed to be booze.”


    Without waiting for a response, she moved confidently to the liquor cab, pulling out two bottles of whiskey.


    “Come on. Let me show you what a real drink should taste like.”


    The bottles she chose were infamous—liquor so potent it could knock even the toughest drinkers off their feet. Most wouldn’t dare finish a single bottle, let alone two.


    With a swift motion, she mmed the bottles onto the marble table, the loud thud echoing through the room. The sound sent a chill down Miguel’s spine, his pulse skipping a beat. His gaze flickered between the bottles and Jules, his brow twitching in anxiety, betraying his inner unease.


    If he drank both of those, he wouldn’t be walking out—he’d be carried out, if he was fortunate enough to survive.


    “Mr. Ford, I swear I was just drunk and talking nonsense. Please don’t take me seriously,” Miguel stammered, forcing a smile that came across more as a grimace. His lips stretched unnaturally, his entire face frozen in a tight mask of anxiety, but he dared not let it slip.


    Jules looked down at him with a cold, calcting stare, his eyes sharp as a de in the dark.


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    “Are you going to drink it yourself, or would you prefer I call someone to help you?”


    It sounded like a choice, but everyone in the room knew that if Jules made that call, the oue would be far worse.


    After what felt like an eternity of hesitation, Miguel gritted his teeth, unsteadily pushing himself to his feet, and opened one of the bottles. Tilting his head back, he began to gulp the whiskey down.


    He barely managed half the bottle before his stomach revolted. He doubled over, gripping the trash can nearby, and vomited uncontrobly.


    Jules frowned ever so slightly, giving a quick, discreet nce to one of his associates.


    “Don’t let him leave until both bottles are empty.”


    The message was unmistakable. Miguel would not be leaving until he finished the whiskey, one way or another.


    A collective breath was drawn by the crowd, the tension thick in the air. They pitied Miguel for crossing Jules, but at the same time, silently hoped they wouldn’t be next.


    As Jules turned to leave, he paused for a brief moment, casting a sharp look over his shoulder at the group behind him.


    “If I hear even a whisper about Corrine from any of you again…” His voice trailed off, the weight of his threat hanging in the air like an iron chain. His lips curved into a faint but chilling smile.


    “I promise you won’t like the consequences.”


    With that, he strode out.


    Karina followed him at anguid pace, barely sparing the gossiping women a nce. As she passed them, she let out a mockingugh, not bothering to hide her disdain.


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