Catherine had already been through the storms of love, and she understood all too well the kind of insecurity that cos from feeling "not good enough." She had once struggled the sa way because of the vast difference between herself and Bert, and had even believed for a ti that she was unworthy of him.
But once she finally found the courage to be with him, she realized that things like family background and social status didn’t truly matter. As long as two people genuinely loved each other, they could overco anything. Ford must have known from the very beginning about the gap between him and Riley, yet he still chose to pursue her—clearly, in his eyes, those differences ant nothing at all.
Under Catherine’s gentle comfort, Riley slowly cald down. She lay there quietly for a while, then lifted her head and waved for Catherine to keep drinking with her.
"Co on, let’s keep drinking. Let’s stop thinking about all that ssy stuff."
This, perhaps, was what people ant by drowning sorrow in alcohol.
Riley was in a bad mood, and Catherine decided to be the loyal friend who stayed to the end. They drank one glass after another, until both of them were thoroughly drunk. Catherine was picked up by Bert, while Riley was taken away by Ford.
Even though Ford had said bitterly that he would "grant" Riley her breakup, he still ca looking for her after hearing from Catherine that she was drunk.
After finishing his own al, Bert went to their private room. When he saw the two won completely drunk, he was so angry he nearly wanted to throw Catherine out. Thankfully, he had followed them here today—otherwise, what would she have done?
It was one thing if she got drunk when he was with her—he could take care of her. But to drink herself into this state when he wasn’t there...
Catherine, of course, felt she hadn’t done anything wrong. She leaned against him and let him lead her out. Once they were in the car, Bert leaned over to fasten her seat belt. Seeing her flushed, drunken face, he clenched his teeth and snapped her na.
"Catherine!"
She drowsily opened her eyes, looked at his cold expression, and asked innocently,
"What’s wrong?"
He scolded her sharply, "Why did you drink so much? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for a woman to get drunk outside?"
Catherine raised a hand to rub her throbbing forehead.
"Riley was in a bad mood. I didn’t know how else to comfort her, so I just drank with her."
Bert nearly choked with anger. Riley was in a bad mood, so she drank herself senseless with her? Since when had she beco so reckless?
What he didn’t understand was just how much Riley ant to Catherine. She desperately wanted her friend to be happy, yet Riley was trapped in her feelings for Ford—wanting to love him but held back by her own insecurity.
Catherine didn’t know how to make Riley feel better, so the only thing she could do was drink with her. It was the only way she knew how to stand by her friend.
Hearing this, Bert felt both angry at her for hurting herself this way and heartbroken for her kindness. He also knew that she had done this because she truly cherished Riley as a friend.
While Bert was still stewing in his mixed emotions, Catherine’s slender arms reached up and gently wrapped around his neck as she whispered to soothe him,
"Don’t be angry anymore..."
Her words were gentle to begin with, and after drinking, her voice grew even softer and more intoxicating. Bert felt his heart lt completely, and he wasn’t nearly as angry with her anymore.
Still, he shot her a warning glare and said irritably,
"From the day I t you until now, just look at how many tis you’ve gotten drunk!"
Bert couldn’t help thinking that he had sohow ended up with a little drunkard—soone with barely any tolerance for alcohol, who got tipsy after just a few drinks, yet still kept drinking.
The first ti she got drunk was when they had just t, when she drank alone at ho to drown her sorrows.
The second ti was when they visited Dave’s place.
And now, this was the third ti.
Catherine giggled, holding him even closer. Their noses were almost touching, their breaths mingling as she asked him in a slightly childish tone,
"Do you not like drinking?"
"Then I promise I won’t touch alcohol again."
Her words left Bert montarily speechless.
How could he possibly admit that, in truth, he rather liked it when she was a little drunk—how she beca more proactive, more passionate, how she responded to him so readily, even agreeing to things she normally refused, her body so soft it was almost unreal?
At the thought, his body tensed. He reached out and pressed her back into the passenger seat, took a deep breath, and started the engine, driving away.
They would be ho soon.
And then... he would make her pay.
That sa night, while Catherine and Bert were wrapped in passion and tenderness, Channing was rushed to the hospital. Lucca and Tracy had enraged him so badly that he suffered a stroke.
The reason was simple. After seeing the dayti news—that Channing Group had been acquired by Bert and given to Catherine as a proposal gift—Lucca and Tracy lost all restraint. Late at night, the mother and daughter stord into Channing’s residence and made a scene.
They demanded to know why he had agreed to sell Channing Group to Bert, accusing him again and again of not thinking about his son at all, claiming that the four of them were now completely ruined.
Channing was already burning with anger, and their confrontation only pushed him further. He collapsed again. Just a few days earlier he had fainted and been hospitalized, and the doctor had warned him not to get angry again, or the consequences would be severe.
This ti, the warning ca true.
After being rushed to the hospital, the doctors announced that he had suffered a stroke. Half of his body was paralyzed. Tracy and Lucca were completely stunned.
The two of them had been spoiled and willful all their lives, living in comfort under Channing’s protection, never truly suffering—except for the blows Bert had dealt them recently. They had never experienced real illness or hardship.
Now, seeing Channing lying motionless in the hospital bed, they finally realized how serious everything was.
They had already hated Catherine for taking over Channing Group, but Lucca in particular felt as if she were losing her mind. She had never imagined Bert would use such a ruthless thod—buying Channing Group and handing it to Catherine—cutting off their family’s only ans of survival.
Lucca was far too proud to ever work under Catherine.
Before, she had still relied on the fact that Channing owned the company and that she could continue living in comfort. Now that Catherine had taken control, there was no way Lucca could remain there. And even if she wanted to, soone like Bert—so vindictive and rciless—would never allow it. He must have already prepared an excuse to fire her.
With her current reputation, no other company would want her. Wasn’t this the sa as cutting off her future completely?
Her heart was filled with hatred—and trembling fear. Bert was a madman: ruthless, obsessive, and cruel. To offend him was worse than death.
At this mont, Lucca truly felt that life was worse than death.
Her parents’ marriage was shattered, her family was no longer a ho. Her love and future were gone, her reputation ruined, her career destroyed. Now Channing lay in the hospital after a stroke, Tracy had no ability to survive on her own, and her younger brother—still in school—needed tuition and expenses, yet he too had grown up as a pampered young master.
For a fleeting mont, Lucca thought of death.
To her now, death felt like release.
Beside her, Tracy sobbed in despair.
"What are we going to do now?"
Tracy’s crying snapped Lucca out of her shock and terror. She stared blankly at her collapsing mother, then at Channing lying still on the bed with his eyes closed.
What to do?
She had no idea at all.
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