The call connected quickly, and she glanced outside, lowering her voice.
"Director Grant, Evelyn ca back looking unhappy. What happened?"
Jas Grant’s distinct fingers clutched the phone, subtly tightening as his tense jawline relaxed. He said two words: "Nothing."
Then, the call was disconnected.
Staring at the black screen of her phone, Yara Reagan was montarily dumbfounded.
Why does it seem like everyone has a chip on their shoulder today?
Yara packed up her things and brought out a bowl of porridge.
Evelyn Clayton was still bent over, working on her design drafts, which were scattered ssily on the floor.
She found an empty spot and placed the bowl of porridge down.
A tab suddenly popped up on the open laptop, a hot video trending: "Jas Grant, Indulgent Heartthrob" in bold letters.
Evelyn raised her hand and clicked on it, playing the video.
On the screen, Jas Grant was in a lively nightlife spot, surrounded by hot beauties. His face bore a tranquil look, indulging in the scene.
With her almond-shaped eyes slightly fallen, Evelyn watched the video with indifference, though her fingertips dug deeply into her palm.
Suddenly, Yara leaped up angrily from her seat: "That’s why he’s out having fun with won behind your back?! No, you co with !"
She forcefully grabbed Evelyn’s hand and headed straight to the video’s location.
In the bar, Yara led Evelyn the whole way, kicking open the door to the private room.
With a bang, all eyes inside were imdiately drawn to them.
Amidst the colorful neon lights, Evelyn imdiately spotted Jas Grant sitting in the center.
More than a dozen empty bottles lay before him, and his entire body was slumped into the sofa, his brows and eyes clouded, facial lines cast in shadows, ambiguous and dim.
Several beautiful won, like octopuses, clung to his body.
Yet there he was, holding a wine glass, eyes squinted in a look of pure enjoynt.
"Who are you! How dare you kick open Director Grant’s private room!"
Evelyn shot a sharp glance over: "I kicked it open, so what."
Her eyes were cold and indifferent, causing the woman who spoke to instantly adopt a look of grievance, complaining as she clung to Jas Grant.
"Director Grant, look at her! You should stand up for ~~"
Stand up?
Evelyn seed unbothered, raising her chin and staring directly at Jas: "Your little beauty is upset, wants you to stand up for her."
She was curious to see how Jas could stand up for others in this situation.
Jas had drunk more than ten bottles of brandy, the alcohol hitting hard, though his consciousness remained clear.
Tilting his head, his distinct fingers pressed against his jaw as he clicked his tongue: "Then, you join too?"
"Director Grant!"
The woman next to him imdiately playfully punched Jas in the chest.
Unfazed, he smiled instead, lifting his gaze with indifference to sweep Evelyn standing at the door.
She always carried such indifference, even seeing him with other won, that cold face remained unmoved.
Yara, however, was furious, her face flushed red.
"Jas Grant! How can you?! Evelyn is still here!"
Jas raised an eyebrow: "I invited her to join; she wasn’t willing."
"You!"
Evelyn stopped the furious Yara, her cold palm holding Yara’s hand as her red lips spoke with biting chill.
"Let him be, just a playboy. I, Evelyn Clayton, am not interested in such n, they sully my eyes."
With that said, she didn’t bother to check Jas’s expression, taking Yara’s hand and walking out of the private room with a regal air.
Slumped on the sofa, Jas’s eyes held none of their earlier calm, a turbulent, hidden aggressiveness rising in him.
When another woman tried to press against him, he coldly pushed her away, jaw tense.
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