Chapter 469 Seeking Vengeance: Mr. Hayes, Let's Bring Down Albert
The dimly lit bar cast a mysterious glow over the scene. Glasses and liquor shimmered under the colored lights, creating an enticing atmosphere. The scent of alcohol mingled with perfume, creating that distinctive bar aroma that was oddly intoxicating.
Amidst the noise, Clifford sat at the counter, downing one drink after another. His eyes were glazed over—clearly he'd had a few too many. He gripped a glass of dark liquor, his fingertips tapping lightly against its surface.
Suddenly, the light beside him dimmed. Clifford turned to find a woman taking the seat next to him. She was elegantly dressed, though the hat she wore seemed oddly out of place. Despite the fatigue visible in her eyes, she smiled at him.
"Drinking alone?" she asked casually.
Clifford barely glanced up, choosing to ignore her and focus on his drink instead.
Undeterred by his silence, she leaned closer. "Mr. Hayes?"
That got his attention. Clifford looked up at her properly. "You know me," he stated flatly.
"Of course," she replied, pleased to have finally gotten a response. "Drinking alone is so dull. Why don't we have one together? We could chat a bit..."
Clifford frowned, irritation crossing his face. "No thanks. I don't enjoy drinking with strangers."
"Oh, but we're not strangers. Let me introduce myself—I'm Violet." She raised her glass in a toast, though she didn't drink. "I'm Albert's ex."
Surprise flickered across Clifford's face.
Noticing his reaction, Violet smiled. "I know you have feelings for Yvette. But I should tell you, I don't like her. Would you like to hear about my history with Albert and Yvette?"
Clifford's frown deepened. "I don't think I need to know any of that. I just want to drink in peace."
Violet continued as if she hadn't heard his dismissal.
"Albert and I were together for over ten years, but he fell for Yvette over a necklace, of all things." The smile faded from her eyes as she removed her hat, revealing a bandaged wound on her forehead. "Despite their troubled marriage, Albert never allows Yvette to have her own life. He's a possessive, controlling man. This is what he did to me. And he'll do the same to Yvette eventually."
Clifford stared at her injury but remained silent.
Violet replaced her hat and leaned in closer, looking directly into his eyes. "Mr. Hayes, I want revenge on Albert. Why don't we work together—"
Before she could finish, Clifford abruptly stood up, cutting her off, "I won't be collaborating with you on anything, and I don't want to hear about your history. It has nothing to do with me."
His voice was hoarse, his breath heavy with alcohol.
He grabbed his glass, downed the remaining liquor, and walked away.
As Clifford stormed off, Violet's lips curled into a slight smile. She reached for his phone on the counter, installed spyware on it, and returned it to its place before leaving. She was confident that if Clifford truly had feelings for Yvette, everything would unfold exactly as she planned.
Clifford staggered back to his room, his eyes bloodshot and weary. He collapsed onto his bed, enveloped in darkness, trying to fall asleep but only aware of time crawling by.
The words Violet had spoken at the bar haunted him like a spell, echoing in his mind over and over. They pounded in his temples like a sharp, insistent ringing.
He took a deep breath. According to Violet, both Albert and Yvette were in danger.
Clifford tried to clear his head, to figure out how to warn Yvette, but the drowsiness of intoxication washed over him, pulling him back toward sleep.
Before succumbing, Clifford had just one thought: he had to tell Yvette.
Yvette was still shaken. She had considered keeping the children home for a couple of days, but they didn't know what had happened, and her anxious state was making them nervous.
They should be safe at preschool, she reasoned.
Unable to resist their hopeful faces, Yvette walked them to preschool. Watching them bounce into the building with their backpacks, she still couldn't shake her unease.
Trying to suppress her anxiety, she turned to walk home.
As she passed a small alley, she looked up and saw Clifford. Instinctively, she glanced beside him, expecting to see Niamh, but she wasn't there.
Seeing him walk directly toward her, Yvette frowned, clearly displeased.
Clifford noticed her reaction and stopped about six feet away. "I need to tell you something important."
He looked at her earnestly, concerned she might reject him outright.
But Yvette's prejudice against him ran deep. She stepped back defensively. "I think we've said all we need to say to each other."
Clifford held her gaze. "I'm not here to say anything you don't want to hear. This is about your husband Albert's safety."
At the mention of Albert, Yvette's expression changed. "What exactly are you trying to say?"
"Violet found me."
Yvette stared at him in disbelief. "Why would she contact you?"
"I don't know," Clifford pressed his lips together, his expression grave. "She might have seen us talking before. She approached me at a bar yesterday, suggesting we team up to get revenge on you and Albert."
Yvette's emotions surged as she stared at Clifford in shock.
Though Albert hadn't told her the cause of the accident, based on what Clifford was saying, yesterday's car crash was almost certainly Violet's doing.
The realization sent a chill down Yvette's spine.
She knew Violet hated her, but never imagined she'd be ruthless enough to try to kill her in a car accident.
Yvette opened her mouth to speak, but a strange feeling came over her—as if someone was watching them with malicious intent.
She instinctively turned around just as several men in black emerged from the shadows.
Before Yvette could react, they rushed forward, spraying something at both of them.
Yvette's body went limp.
As she lost consciousness, she vaguely heard one of the men on the phone saying, "We've got both of them."