Divorce, Please: The Young Master Does Not Love Me

Chapter 669: Chapter 661: Unforgivable

Leo Joyce’s words brought Amelia Avery’s wandering mind back into focus. She stared at him, her beautiful eyes hazy and filled with confusion.

The truth was, she’d only come here in the middle of the night because she was in a bad mood. What she hadn’t known was that Leo Joyce was also back. He seemed to be in an even worse mood than she was—and dead drunk. The moment he saw her, he simply pulled her into drinking with him without a word.

Perhaps the memories of them drinking together and pulling all-nighters to play cards came flooding back. She didn’t refuse and began to drink with him.

The entire time, Leo Joyce hadn’t said a single word to her, so she had no idea why he was in such a bad mood.

But now, after hearing what he’d just said, how could she not understand?

On any other occasion, she might have offered him a few words of comfort, but tonight, she just wasn’t in the mood.

Or perhaps it was just that she was too possessive, too selfish. She hated hearing that the people who were supposed to care about her were caring for someone else instead. It made her feel deeply uneasy and insecure.

She grabbed her bag and staggered to her feet, ready to ditch Leo Joyce and leave.

Seeing this, Lucy blocked Amelia Avery’s path, clearly displeased. "Ancestor Avery, you’re drunk." In other words: ’Just stay put and stop trying to run off.’

"Lucy, have you got a fucking death wish? Get out of my way!"

"Hah. Ancestor Avery, let me ask you just one thing: why exactly did you come here in the dead of night?" ’He was really starting to wonder if this so-called Ancestor Avery just couldn’t stand to see Young Master Joyce happy.’

’Otherwise, why else would she show up less than five minutes after he’d called Miss Grayson?’

’Fine, maybe that was a coincidence. But then why was Ancestor Avery trying to leave the second Miss Grayson was gone?’

’This was just too damn unfair to their Young Master Joyce!’

’Today, for their Young Master Joyce’s sake, he was going to root out this weed, Ancestor Avery.’

"Do I need to report to you why I’m here?" Amelia Avery had a short fuse to begin with, and it was even shorter when she’d been drinking. Anyone who provoked her was asking for a tongue-lashing.

"Ancestor Avery, I can see you’re up to no fucking good. Go on, tell me. What’s a married woman like you doing in a bar all the time for no reason? If people didn’t know any better, they’d really fucking think you and our Young Master Joyce were having an affair."

Amelia Avery sneered, tossing her bag onto the bar and cracking her knuckles. "Lucy, you’ve gotten awfully bold lately. Is it because *I* haven’t used you for target practice in a while? Are you itching for a beating?"

"..." To be honest, when Lucy saw that Amelia Avery was ready to fight him, a dark flush crept over his face. Though it wasn’t obvious, he couldn’t help but recall his miserable past experiences with her.

Just then, Ian Shaw emerged from the private room. He was already furious at being woken up, and when he came out and heard Amelia Avery’s arrogant parting shot, his brows knitted in displeasure. "Amelia Avery," he barked, "are you done being crazy yet?!"

Amelia Avery looked toward the source of the voice and saw Ian Shaw standing there, his face cold and grim. He glared at her so fiercely, it was as if she’d committed some heinous, unforgivable crime.

Even though she hadn’t done anything wrong, she was still a little scared of Ian Shaw.

She sheathed her wildcat claws. Turning back around, she snatched her bag and prepared to walk away on her four-inch heels.

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