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Chapter_18
Dylan’s jaw practically hit the floor as he processed the revelation. Jasper’s ex-wife—this was the woman he had been publicly humiliated by. No wonder she had such an undeniable presence. Her beauty was far beyond that of his sister’s, and it was clear that his superficial sister never stood a chance against someone like Alyssa, even with her childhood connection to Jasper.
“Mr. Beckett,” Dylan sneered, still unwilling to back down despite his shock. “Even if she’s your ex-wife, that doesn’t mean I should apologize to her! If she apologizes first, I’ll pretend this never happened.”
Jasper’s icy glare sharpened. “Your men might have already done something to her if I hadn’t shown up in time. Just because it didn’t happen doesn’t mean you’re not at fault. Apologize.”
Dylan’s internal nerves quaked, but he fought to maintain his defiant front.
Alyssa’s face flushed from the alcohol, and her head swam as the drunken haze grew heavier. She caught snippets of the conversation about ex-wives and apologies. Her thoughts were clouded, and irritation boiled inside her. Does this despicable man really expect me to apologize? She clenched her fists. I might as well twist his head off and use it as a ball.
As tension reached a boiling point, a voice broke through the chaos, cutting through the air with authority.
“Apologizing is too troublesome,” Landon said, strolling toward them with a mischievous smile. He had a group of people trailing behind him, and his presence was undeniably commanding. “How about we handle this my way?”
Landon’s gaze swept across the room, his smile growing broader as he exuded an intimidating aura. “We can either send him to the police station and let me play the role of a model citizen, or take him outside and give him a good beating. Your call.”
Dylan’s eyes widened with fear, his voice trembling. “Why should I be the one getting beaten? Is there no rule of law anymore?”
Landon raised a finger, and the woman who had been nearly drugged earlier timidly stepped behind him, her eyes darting between the two men.
“Firstly,” Landon continued, “in my club, these women are here to serve drinks and dance. They never provide personal services to customers. By forcefully making her drink and harassing her, you’ve violated the rules of my establishment. Secondly, I don’t tolerate banned substances or drugs. I despise that more than anything. I consider it light punishment to break the legs of anyone involved. You should thank Ms. White here. If she hadn’t stopped you, you’d be dead already.”
Jasper’s eyes widened in realization. He had no idea things had escalated that far.
Alyssa’s lips curled into a satisfied grin. “Haha! Well done, man!” she exclaimed, narrowing her eyes and giving Landon a thumbs-up.
“Thanks for the praise,” Landon said with a wink, and their playful exchange sent an unexpected twinge of discomfort through Jasper’s chest.
Jasper’s expression grew tight, his attention snapping between the two of them. “Jasper,” Landon teased, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “What do you think of my suggestion?”
Jasper’s gaze remained as cold as ever. “It’s feasible,” he replied, his voice clipped.
Dylan, now visibly defeated, swallowed his pride. “It’s my fault! I’m sorry! Mr. Beckett, I didn’t know she was your ex-wife. I was ignorant… I’ll compensate Ms. White. I’m sorry…”
Dylan’s apology felt forced, and his frustration was evident. But before Jasper could process the situation further, his eyes scanned the room.
Where did she go?
“Looking for your ex-wife?” Landon whistled, nodding toward the stage. “She’s over there.”
Jasper’s heart skipped a beat. He locked eyes with Alyssa as he saw her, lit by the pulsating lights, her body swaying sensually in the spotlight. She was a goddess among mortals, but something in her movements felt… off. She was completely drunk, and her every step seemed erratic, carefree, as if she were floating.
Before anyone could react, Alyssa leaned back, her body tilting dangerously as she struggled to stay upright. Gasps erupted from the crowd as she fell, but in an instant, a pair of strong arms caught her, pulling her safely into a warm embrace.
Alyssa blinked, her vision spinning, and she saw only one thing: Jasper’s furious face staring down at her. She flashed him a silly smile, the alcohol making her voice slurred. “I feel nauseous,” she muttered weakly.
Jasper’s face hardened as he gripped her tighter, dragging her toward the men’s restroom.
Alyssa stumbled as he pulled her inside. The harsh fluorescent lights of the restroom only made her headache worse. She leaned over the toilet, her body trembling as she vomited uncontrollably, no longer the composed woman she once was.
Jasper stood by the door, arms crossed, watching her with icy detachment. His cold expression softened, though, as he observed her struggling, and a rare flicker of concern passed through his gaze. Slowly, he stepped toward her, placing a hand gently on her trembling back to offer some support.
After what felt like an eternity, Alyssa stumbled to the sink, her face pale as she tried to wash her mouth. “Ugh… I feel terrible…” she groaned, her voice small and fragile.
Jasper’s voice was low and accusatory. “Then why did you drink? You brought this upon yourself.”
Alyssa turned to him, her eyes narrowed but weak. “Because…” she paused, taking a shallow breath. “I’m sad. I feel terrible.”
Her words hit Jasper like a cold wave. He stood there, silent for a moment, his mind racing. Alyssa wasn’t just angry—she was hurt. And he, unknowingly, was a part of that pain.