Chapter 069 Mr. Smith Gets Jealous

Stella's face went ghostly white.

Everyone else was just as shocked. Wasn't Amelia supposed to be mute? They exchanged bewildered glances.

William and Sophia then stood by Heath's side.

Heath was the only one who truly cared for them there.

He wrapped an arm around each of them and said warmly, "Daniel, Amelia, perfect timing. Grandpa's about to order. Come check out the menu and pick what you like."

William shrugged, "I'm good with anything."

Heath nodded and turned to Sophia, asking gently, "Amelia, what do you want to eat? Tell Grandpa, okay?"

He was still reeling from the shock of hearing her speak earlier and was eager to coax her into talking again.

But Sophia wasn't in the mood to chat anymore. She focused on the iPad menu, randomly pointing at dishes with her tiny finger.

Heath adored her, so he ordered everything she pointed at. He handed the iPad to the waiter and said, "Bring it all."

Meanwhile, Monica was being dragged out of the restaurant by Alexander. His grip was firm, and no matter how much she struggled, she couldn't break free.

Alexander himself didn't even know why he was so angry. Ever since Monica said she didn't want him anymore, he hadn't been himself.

"Alexander, let go!" She fought to free herself.

For a moment, it looked like her slender wrist might snap, then he suddenly let go.

Monica lost her balance and stumbled backward.

Alexander quickly grabbed her waist again, sneering, "If you can't handle it, don't drink with others."

Monica found it laughable. "Whether I drink or not, and with whom, what does it matter to you, Mr. Smith? Besides, Michael is my partner in business."

Alexander laughed, glaring at her. "I'm your biggest partner at CLOUD. Why don't you drink with me?"

What made Michael so special? Monica was just being ungrateful.

Seeing the contempt in his eyes, Monica couldn't hold back. "Because I think Mr. Johnson is quite nice, at least nicer than you. I'd rather drink with him than with you. Is that clear enough for you, Mr. Smith?"

She let out all her frustration in one breath. Alexander didn't even think about his family. Who knew what their parents would do next if she drank with him?

She just wanted to avoid him as much as possible.

Alexander's gaze turned icy, his aura growing darker and darker. He said coldly, "He's nicer than me? Monica, just because he sweet-talked you, you see him that way. Do you even know what kind of person he is? Do you think anyone can marry into the Johnson family? Don't forget, you're a divorced woman!"

As soon as Alexander spoke, it felt like the whole world went silent.

The cold wind whistled past them.

Monica felt the little bit of alcohol in her system evaporate with his harsh words and the night's chill.

After a long pause, she gave a cold smile, looking him straight in the eye, her words cutting, "So, you also think of me that way, just like your mother, huh? Well, whether I'm worthy or not is none of your business. Aren't you engaged to Stella? Why aren't you with your fiancée instead of dragging me out here? The last person I want to deal with right now is you. Please stay away from me in the future, and pretend you don't know me when you see me. Thanks a lot!"

She spat out her words in one breath and turned to leave. Her steps were wobbly, and she nearly stumbled a few times, but she refused to show any weakness in front of him.

Alexander watched her walk away, feeling a heavy weight in his chest.

When did he ever say she wasn't worthy?

When did he ever say he was engaged?

She always had a way of twisting his words to make him furious. He shouldn't care about her.

But seeing her like this, he couldn't just leave her alone. He told Joseph to bring the car around and got in.

"Follow her," he ordered, clearly annoyed.

"Yes, sir," Joseph replied.

But Monica was on foot, and they were in a car, so they had to follow her at a snail's pace.

The cars behind them kept honking, urging them to move.

Joseph glanced at Alexander's icy expression in the rearview mirror and didn't dare to say a word, letting the honking continue as he maintained a slow speed.

Monica had no idea they were following her.

She already had a nervous condition, and tonight she drank and argued with a bunch of idiots, making her head buzz. Because of the alcohol, she couldn't take her medication and had to tough it out, stumbling as she walked.

Eventually, she veered off the main road and turned onto a small path.

It was darker and had no streetlights, but it was closer to home, and she could enjoy the breeze.

Unexpectedly, a motorcycle approached, its headlights glaringly bright on the dark street. Monica instinctively stopped and shielded her eyes from the light.

The motorcycle stopped beside her, with a young man in his early twenties at the front and two similarly aged men behind him, all looking sketchy.

"Hey, beautiful, where are you headed? I'll give you a ride," the leading man said with a sleazy smile, his eyes lingering on Monica.

She was wearing a champagne-colored, well-tailored dress today. Though not tight, it perfectly outlined her waist.

Feeling unwell, her face was slightly pale, giving her an unusual, disheveled beauty.

The three men looked at her with predatory eyes. One even licked his lips and said, "But our bike is full. What should we do?"

"That's easy," said the man at the back. "Let her sit between us."