A Journey from Bitterness to Truth (Matilda and Yvan) novel Chapter 705

The thought alone was enough to sour Matilda's mood even further, but she found herself forced into a facade of smiles to appease Dean, for she wasn't yet powerful enough.

If only she could be stronger, just a bit more like the decisive and ruthless Yvan of old, maybe then she would hold absolute sway in conversations.

Dean, sensing Matilda's disengagement, suddenly snapped his fingers, signaling the bartender to top off her glass with more liquor. Before Matilda could even protest, the bartender cracked open a bottle of high-proof bourbon and poured it straight into her glass.

Anyone who's ever navigated a bar scene knows that sticking to one type of drink is manageable; you might get sick, but mix your drinks, and you’re asking for trouble. The worst-case scenario can leave you blacked out and vulnerable.

That was precisely Dean's aim. No matter how good Matilda's tolerance was, a bombardment of mixed alcohols would eventually break her.

Dean's eyes narrowed into a smug smile, his chubby cheeks shining as if they could ooze oil, his stubby fingers raising his glass for a toast with Matilda.

Matilda's smile was strained. Dean's intentions were as clear as day to anyone paying attention, but with the crowd squarely in his corner, Matilda was isolated, making escape all but impossible.

"Here's to Miss Thompson, our esteemed CEO," Dean toasted, quite accustomed to the drinking culture from his frequent bar outings. But Matilda, born into a family of considerable standing and unaccustomed to such rough-and-tumble environments, struggled with the idea of downing such a strong drink.

Tears welled in Matilda's eyes, her pitiful yet defiant demeanor only egging Dean on further. He had been eyeing her for a long time, wondering if tonight might be the night he'd finally "have his feast."

Gritting her teeth, Matilda tipped back her head and swallowed the fiery liquid, which seemed to scorch her throat on the way down.

Rubbing her throat, she looked up at Dean, who was still grinning, his thick lips moving as he said, "Ms. Thompson sure can hold her liquor. It's no wonder you've kept your seat as the head of the Boyd Group so securely. Everyone says Yvan's dead, is that true?"

Matilda, as if stung, stood up abruptly, clenching her fists as she declared, "No!"

Her outburst caught Dean off guard. After a moment, he laughed roughly, "Ms. Thompson, are you still harboring feelings for Yvan? I heard it was a fight to the death between you two."

It felt like a slap to Matilda's face. She clenched her fists tighter and slowly sat back down, managing a strained smile, "Mr. Dean, you're imagining things. As for the rumors of Yvan's death, they could severely impact the Boyd Group... so..."

"Oh? So, has Yvan really gone abroad to study, disappearing for months on end?" Dean pressed, almost cruelly. "I've heard no matter how you try to reach him, there's no reply. He hasn’t ended up in jail, has he? Haha, just like you did five years ago."

Using Matilda's past imprisonment to taunt her was beyond shameless!

Despite turning pale, Matilda kept up her facade, her smile painful to behold. "Mr. Dean, you have quite the imagination. Why don't we discuss the real estate deal in Whty City instead? It's far more interesting than my incarceration five years ago, don't you think?"