Chapter 638 Quentin After Getting Drunk
"Grace is stubborn. She won't agree if the child can't be born legitimately and rightfully."
"Only you know your feelings. I'll just give you one piece of advice: If you love her, don't take her for granted."
Quentin didn't respond.
But he kept downing glass after glass of alcohol.
In the end, Quentin was completely drunk.
Gabriel had only drunk a little and was sober.
He instructed someone to take Quentin back.
Then Gabriel took a car home himself.
Quentin was heavily intoxicated, and as soon as he collapsed in the back seat, he started tugging at his tie and clothes.
The heat from the alcohol was rampaging through his body, making him feel unbearably hot.
"Where's the air conditioning? Is it on?" Quentin shouted with a frown.
The driver immediately turned the air conditioning down a few more degrees and asked, "Mr. Taft, you're very drunk. Should I take you back to The Taft Manor?"
"Forget the Taft Manor, take me to my place."
"Yes, Mr. Taft."
Half an hour later.
As soon as the car stopped, Quentin pushed the door open and staggered inside.
Seeing this, the driver quickly caught up to support him, "Mr. Taft, walk slowly."
Quentin pushed him away angrily, "Get lost, I'm not drunk."
Despite his words, Quentin's steps were unsteady.
He was swaying and stumbling as he walked.
The driver, afraid he might fall, signaled to the nearby servants, "What are you standing there for? Help Mr. Taft upstairs and settle him in."
"If Mr. Taft gets hurt, we'll all be in trouble tomorrow."
The servants, knowing Quentin's temper, immediately ran over to support him.
But Quentin mercilessly pushed them away.
"I'll say it again, get lost."
"Don't touch me."
After saying that, he suddenly collapsed on the stairs.
Quentin reeked of alcohol.
His long tie hung loosely around his neck.
At a glance, Quentin looked disheveled and defeated; nothing like the decisive, strategic, ruthless man he once was.
Yet, as he sat there, no one dared to breathe loudly or approach; they simply stood by, attending to him with a respectful distance.
After a while, Quentin suddenly opened his eyes and asked, "Where is she?"
"What?"
The servant was not immediately understanding.
Then, a more experienced servant quickly caught on, "Mr. Taft, do you mean Ms. Morgan? She's upstairs."
"We'll help you up."
"No need."
Coldly saying this, Quentin got up again and climbed to the second floor.
Reaching the bedroom, Quentin started banging on the door, but he remained silent.
Grace had been sleeping soundly but was suddenly awakened by the loud knocking.
With no one speaking, she felt a bit scared.
So she hugged herself tightly, curling up under the covers.
But Quentin was relentless, knocking almost continuously.
Finally, Grace couldn't help but ask, "Who is it?"
"It's me!" Quentin's voice was slurred with drunkenness.
Hearing Quentin's voice, she quickly replied, "I've already gone to bed. Whatever it is, let's talk tomorrow."
"No, I want to see you now."
"I am asleep, Quentin. You can't be so overbearing and rude."
Then, the room was engulfed in silence. Grace covered her ears and burrowed into the blanket, trying to fall back asleep.
Outside, Quentin made a fuss for a while longer.
Finally, perhaps exhausted, he stopped.
Kicking the door hard, Quentin turned and staggered downstairs to the living room.
As soon as he reached the living room, he kicked over a few chairs.
Then, vases, tableware, tables... almost everything breakable was smashed.
He roared with anger, smashing things furiously.
The servants, already afraid, were now even more terrified by his rage. No one dared to approach him.
In less than ten minutes, the living room was a complete mess.
The floor was covered in shards, with glass fragments scattered everywhere.
As if exhausted from smashing things, Quentin let his hands drop and sat on the floor.
At that moment, seeing shards of glass pierce his body as he sat down, the servants couldn't help but gasp, feeling the pain.
But Quentin didn't make a sound, just frowned indifferently.
Soon, blood was flowing from the places on his hands and legs where the glass shards had pierced.
The servants were terrified, discussing among themselves, "This won't do. Mr. Taft is injured and bleeding a lot. We need to treat his wounds immediately."
Another servant whispered, "That's true, but look at Mr. Taft. Do you think he'll let us approach?"
"We can't, but someone else can!"
"You mean..."
With that, everyone simultaneously thought of Grace.
After Quentin's outburst, Grace, though lying in bed, couldn't fall back asleep.
At that moment, there was another gentle knock on the door.
"Ms. Morgan, could you please open the door?"
"Just say what you need to." Grace's voice came from inside the room.
"Mr. Taft drank a lot tonight and is very drunk. After leaving your door, he started smashing things in the living room, and everyone is very worried."
"And just now, Mr. Taft got injured. No one dares to approach him or bandage his wounds."
"Ms. Morgan, Mr. Taft misses you. Could you please come down and help bandage his wounds?"
Grace closed her eyes, looking pained, "That's his body. If he wants to get angry, no one can stop him."
"If you can't handle it, call a doctor. I'm sorry, but I can't help."
Seeing she wouldn't agree, the servants had no choice but to call a doctor.
But as soon as the doctor, carrying his medical kit, entered the living room, Quentin cursed him away.
With no other option, they went back to Grace.
In the end, feeling a pang of compassion, Grace opened the door and went downstairs.
As soon as she reached the living room, she saw Quentin sitting there, drunk, his eyes glazed over. Though heavily intoxicated, he exuded a powerful, untouchable aura.
As the servants had said, his hands and legs were pierced with glass shards, bleeding.
Grace walked over, about to speak.
Suddenly, Quentin looked at her and gave a particularly gentle smile, "Grace, you finally agreed to see me!"
"But I don't want to see you reeking of alcohol. If you don't want me to leave immediately, go take a shower and then lie down in the guest bedroom." Grace instructed.
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