Melinda was cold to her husband the whole night, and it wore on his already fragile state. He wanted to
vent his emotions somewhere; they were becoming too heavy for him to carry for much longer.
But every time he felt like he could no longer bear it, every time he moved to do something, the
memory of the past afternoon reared its head like a glowering beast ready to devour him.
Then he would grow somber, and become dispirited, and would always end up retreating back into his
own room.
The place had been his bedroom not so long ago.
But as he stood there, he had the vague sense that it didn’t belong to him anymore, didn’t welcome in
the way it always did in the past. The walls were painted a light of slate gray, and gave off a cool, sort
of emotionless atmosphere to the room.
He had few personal belongings left here; he had brought most of them with him to Melinda’s room. In
fact, this room had been rather empty for a while now. Only servants would come up regularly to clean.
Jonas sat at the edge of the bed and ran his hands down his face. Then he flung his body back on the
covers, arms out, and stared at the ceiling.
The room felt cold. Was it always this cold in here? He hadn’t felt this cold since he started sharing a
room with his wife.
He missed the warm, cozy feeling he would always have once he stepped in there. A faint scent of her
shampoo or her lotion would always linger in the air, in the pillows she slept on. The sight of her
cluttered desk always brought him comfort, despite the disarray.
He closed his eyes and sighed heavily. Emily’s parting words echoed in his mind. Jonas hesitated for a
moment, then took out his phone and dialed a sequence of numbers.
"Jonas." Emily answered his call almost immediately.
"Are you free right now?"
Although his tone was still cold and a little hostile, Emily took it as a good sign. She honestly doubted
he would never call her at all, but there it was.
She would be stupid if she didn’t take advantage of that opportunity. Maybe she could worm her way
into his heart again.
She knew all too well how badly her presence could strain Jonas's marriage; if she played her cards
right, she could widen the rift between the couple, and Yulia could land the finishing blow.
"Yes of course," she answered hurriedly, afraid that he might change his mind. Realizing she might
come off as desperate, she changed her tone and tried to sound coy. "Would you like to meet up?"
"Yes." Jonas's answer was curt, and his voice terse.
He couldn’t get anything done even if he wanted to anyway. The documents were sent over from his
office, but he wasn’t in the right state of mind to be dealing with business at the moment.
He was consumed by yesterday’s events, and since he could not distract himself from those horrid
thoughts, he decided he might as well dive into it.
And his muddled brain inferred that in order to understand the inner workings of a woman’s mind,
perhaps he needed to speak with a woman.
It was just that the woman he needed to be communicating with had shut herself off from him.
"I’m guessing you’re in a bad mood," Emily said carefully. "What do you say we go to a bar? I know
somewhere that's really cozy and private. You can unwind and relax there without worrying about a
thing."
Jonas said yes without thinking. He wasn’t capable of thinking straight anyway. Emily then gave him
the name and address of the place, and he went to change his clothes after they hung up.
As soon as he was out on the hall, his feet took him straight to Melinda’s door. He stood there for a few
moments, hesitating, wanting to call out to his wife.
In the end he turned without doing anything and left the villa, the tires of his black sports car screeching
as he drove out of the mansion gates.
Contrary to Emily’s claims that the bar was "private," it was packed with what looked to be a very fun-
loving crowd that night.
As soon as Jonas entered, heads turned to his direction, eyeing him up and down as he strode to the
bar counter. Women in various groups of three or five huddled and twittered among themselves as they
ogled and pointed at him.
"Long Island Iced Tea," he ordered as soon as he reached the counter.
"Hey handsome," a woman in a short, silver strapless dress sidled next to him. "Why don’t you try
some Stay Out Tonight?"
She drawled out the name of the drink, grinning at him with a sort of vulgar invitation. Stay Out Tonight
was, in fact, a rather strong drink, and not a lot of people could hold it in.
The smell of the drink alone was enough to make the weaker ones dizzy. It had a dangerously high
alcohol content.
Jonas shot the woman a look of disgust once, and then ignored her. The bartender said nothing as he
prepared the drink that was ordered and placed it gently on the counter. Jonas downed his glass in a
single gulp.
The cocktail had none of the effect he was aiming at, so he motioned for the bartender again.
"Whiskey."
The glasses kept coming after that. Whiskey was known to burn the throat as it went down, but Jonas
just kept throwing it back as if it were non-alcoholic.
With the amount that he was drinking, the bartender worried at some point that he may not be able to
pay for everything he ordered. Luckily, he recognized the famous brands that Jonas wore, including his
expensive watch.
Soon it was well past his meeting time with Emily, but the woman still wasn’t in sight. Not that Jonas
cared.
He was finally starting to feel numb against all the angst he was holding inside. He slammed his glass
on the counter as he downed another shot.
"Would you like another refill, sir?" the bartender asked warily. 'Can he handle some more? Won't
anything happen to him later on if he keeps this up?'
Although it was a common trope to drown one’s sorrows in alcohol—and the bartender had indeed
seen many such scenes throughout his years—there were few who had ever drunk as much as Jonas
was drinking.
"Aw, it’s no fun to drink alone," came a woman’s soft voice. "Let me drink with you." Vaguely, Jonas saw
a hand shoot out and grab his yet untouched refill of whiskey. He imagined the woman must have
chucked the drink herself in the silence that followed.
But very soon he heard a choking sound, and then there was endless coughing. He finally opened his
eyes wide to get a good look at the woman beside him, though he was still in an obvious daze.
Emily’s throat was on fire.
"Are you all right?" the bartender asked her as she kept on coughing, and then handed her a glass of
water which she downed in a couple of gulps. She was gasping for air when Jonas finally recognized
her.
"Hey, here you are!"
He signaled the bartender for another glass of whiskey, and this time the latter was prompt with his
refill, no longer worried. Company had come for the drunk customer, after all. Whatever happened after
they left the bar counter was no longer any of his concern.
"Do you have any empty seats out there?" Emily leaned over the counter as she asked. "Please
arrange a booth for us."
The bartender complied, and they were soon ushered into one of the VIP rooms. Emily gave out her
order, and a platter of fruit and a bottle of wine was brought to them.
Jonas was drifting in and out of consciousness. They had a perfect view of what was going on down on
the floor, where a performance of some sort went on, but he didn’t give a damn. To him, they just
happened to change their location, but the drinking was still in full swing.
"Sorry I was late," Emily said in a breathy voice. "I got held up in traffic."
She took a sip of the mixed wine, which was exponentially milder than the whiskey, and felt a little
better after her awful coughing fit. The truth was that she had been in the bar long before Jonas
showed up, but didn’t approach him until he got himself visibly drunk.
"What did you say?" Jonas asked, his senses impeded by all the alcohol he consumed.
Emily didn’t mind it, and repeated herself calmly. She didn’t stop him from downing more drinks, either,
and would refill his glass when it was empty.
The music started to get louder, until they had to lean closer to each other to hear what they were
saying.
"Jonas," Emily whispered in his ear. "Let’s go dance."
She stood up and pulled Jonas, who staggered to his feet. They moved into the crowded dance floor.
Jonas's ears were ringing with all the noise. His head was aching, and the room was spinning. He
struggled to get his bearings, and moved to leave the dance floor, but Emily quickly clutched at his
sleeves and pulled him back.
She danced around Jonas, throwing her hands up in the air as she swung her hips seductively to the
music. Jonas only stood there and narrowed his eyes. A crowd of dancers came between them, and in
the blink of an eye they were separated practically by a sea of people. Several girls immediately
pounced on him, pulling at his arms and shoulders from all directions.
"Hey handsome, let’s dance!" One of the girls curled her arm around Jonas's and tugged, but he only
pushed her away.
Emily saw it all play out, and smiled to herself in satisfaction. It was obvious Jonas wasn’t used to this
kind of scenes, with all the people and the loud noise. With great difficulty, she made her way back to
his side and grabbed at his clothes.
She stood on tiptoe to once again whisper in his ear. "Jonas, there are too many people here. Should
we hold hands so we don’t get separated again?"
He didn’t react to what she said. He only looked around once, and reluctantly let Emily hold on to his
arm. At that, her grin only grew wider, and she looked very much like a cat that swallowed a bird.
The DJ began to play some fiery beat, and the dance floor immediately ignited.
Emily was down with the music, and kept dancing around Jonas, shaking her hips unnecessarily,
constantly brushing against his body and trying to whisper in his ear.
Jonas made no attempt to push her away; in fact, he didn’t show any sign of irritation at all. Instead, he
remained a stoic wall of ice, and if there was anything brewing in him, it was impatience. She soon had
to give up her little show to save face, since people were starting to stare at them: a woman seemingly
desperate to seduce a man who displayed blatant disinterest.
The moment she stopped her "dancing," Jonas strode back to their booth. And he promptly resumed
drinking.
As she realized his behavior was all rooted to Melinda, Emily’s head clouded with jealousy. "Jonas,
won’t you stop drinking? There’s a lot of other fun things to do here. How about we play dice?"
He did not reply, but Emily was not to be dissuaded. She asked some of the people around them to
come play with them. In a matter of seconds, their booth was filled with players.
"I’ll call the number first!" Emily initiated. She was used to this kind of stuff after all. The players began
to roll the dice, and although he didn’t want to, Jonas had no choice but to join in as well.
Despite being under heavy influence of alcohol, he was quick to recognize that none of the players was
a match against him.
He had a good eye for observation, and kept track when the others were bluffing. It didn’t take long for
him to identify their tells.
More importantly, being the ruthless businessman that he was, he had a talent for speculation, and his
hunches were always right.
After a few rounds, several players Emily invited got obviously drunk. Jonas was about to throw the
dice when he suddenly felt Emily leaning close to him. "Jonas, that person..." she whispered as she
looked at him with frightened eyes. She motioned to the man beside her. "He’s been touching my
hands and brushing against my legs frequently."
Jonas looked over and saw the man in question biting into a watermelon, minding his own business.
"Jonas," Emily whined urgently, tugging at his arm. "Help me."
Needless to say, the man did nothing of what she accused him to have done. He might have glanced at
her a couple of times, but made no move to assault her or cause any kind of trouble.
Jonas did not know this, of course. His inebriated state, coupled with the pressure from Emily, drove
reason out of his judgment, and he pulled Emily up and made her sit on his other side.
The man turned to him in concern. "Is something wrong, buddy?"
"You don’t deserve to call me buddy!" Without preamble, Jonas rose from his seat and landed a violent
punch on the man’s face.
The man fell to the floor, and girls began to scream.
Jonas was on a rampage, and he seemed no longer able to fully control his own actions. "I dare you to
call me that again! Who do you think you are, talking to me like that? Did you think I’d let you crawl out
of this place alive?"
The man struggled to get back on his feet. One hand covered his bleeding mouth as he tried to get his
bearings. He might have broken a tooth or two.
He actually came from a rich family himself, and was a regular at this bar. As such, most of the staff, as
well as many other regulars, knew him.
People quickly swarmed around him as soon as the scuffle broke out. "How dare you beat up my bro!"
a burly man roared. "Do you want to die?" He lunged at Jonas with his fist, but the latter was quick to
dodge the blow.
He may have been drunk, but his instincts were still sharp, honed in the years that made him known as
a tyrant.
Besides, all the violent energy thrumming in the air only served to sharpen his senses even more. If
anything, Jonas was even more terrifying now than he usually was in the corporate jungle.
Out there he would control himself and temper his attacks when he lashed out. But in here there was
no stopping him.
He had already hit a man without hesitation, so hard the skin was beginning to bruise.
"Holy shit, where’s the manager?" somebody called out. The incident was rapidly escalating, and
something had to be done before anything worse happened.
A couple of minutes later the manager was among them, and behind him stood several security
guards.
62fb1bb41dcb31934bd49bda