With a hint of fear in his eyes, Jack Thompson desperately shook his head, murmuring, "Mommy, we don’t know how to choose, we don’t want to leave you either."
Charlotte Thompson tilted her head, knowing very well the dilemmas her two children were facing. Her eyes started to well up with tears.
How could she bear to let them go?
To her, all her children were like her own flesh and heart. Losing them was equivalent to having a piece of her heart ripped out alive.
Charlotte lifted her head, fighting to hold back the tears welling up in her eyes.
The air went extremely quiet. Adam Ross, sitting opposite to them, didn’t know what to say. Silently, he watched the mother and her children with an indescribable agony in his eyes.
Jack extended his little hand to tug on Charlotte’s sleeve. His eyes were red and he couldn’t utter a single word. Uncontrolled tears began to fall like broken beads, incessantly pouring down.
An overwhelming pain surged in Charlotte’s heart. She quickly wiped Jack’s tears with a tissue, choking back her sob as she hugged him. "Don’t cry, darling. If you can’t choose, then don’t. Mommy is always here for you."
Chad Thompson surreptitiously wiped a tear drop, too. Overwhelmed by the sadness in the place, Adam rubbed his temples. His lips, slightly pale, were now a thin, straight line.
The two children were inconsolable. Charlotte requested Adam Ross to give her and the children some time to think. She returned with her children.
Left alone, Adam sat there, feeling a crushing pain in his chest.
Only after a long time did he look up, paid the bill, and left the restaurant, absent-minded.
Opposite to the restaurant was a place he often visited—the Blue Tone Club.
It was afternoon. He suppressed the irritability in his eyes and entered the club. While the outside world was bathed in sunshine, the club was as dim as night.
Everyone in the club was either rich or powerful. Given Adam’s status, the waiters were especially respectful. He ordered a few bottles of wine and leaned back on the soft couch.
The waiter brought the wine. He closed his eyes, picked a glass of wine and poured it straight down his throat. The spicy taste stimulated his throat and every nerve in his brain.
A few seconds later, he slammed the empty bottle on the glass table. The irritability and perplexity in his eyes almost overflowed. He closed his eyes, drained of energy.
After a momentary lapse in focus, he picked up another bottle of wine to continue drinking. However, before he could lift it to his mouth, a sudden force tightly grabbed his wrist.
Adam tried reflexively to shake it off. His mouth was burning.
But annoyingly, he couldn’t shake it off. The grip on his wrist moved down and snatched the bottle of wine from his hand.
Furrowing his brows, Adam opened his eyes, ready to vent his anger. But when he saw the cold eyes of the man before him, all the harsh words were stuck in his throat.
He furrowed his brows, then said, "My dear brother? What brings you here?"
The successful snatcher, Justin Battleson, sat down on the couch next to him. The club’s faint blue light fell on his face.
Justin looked at the bottle with a smile that wasn’t quite a smile. He placed it on the table and said, "Just here for some business." Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn novel•fire.net
As if he had just remembered something, he crossed his arms casually. Watching Adam, who had sunk into the couch with a tired face, Justin raised his brows slightly and said, "It’s unlike you to drink alone and in silence."