Chapter 88 Loopholes
Diana raised an eyebrow. 'A drinking contest? I can handle that; it's way better than I expected.'
Seeing Diana wasn't in immediate danger, Jacob felt relieved and headed to the cellar for the wine. The room was already a mess. Charles then turned and headed to the guest room, signaling Diana to follow. They kept a six-foot distance, mostly because Diana was wary of his fists and a bit scared.
Charles plopped down on the sofa, waiting for Jacob to bring the wine. Jacob was quick and even brought a servant along. They carried a bunch of wine, even though Charles had said not to bring the good stuff. But everything in the Percy Family cellar was top-notch. So, Jacob also brought some low-alcohol beer and fruit wine.
Once all the wine was set down, he still felt uneasy and advised, "Mr. Percy, your stomach isn't great; you should drink less."
Charles waved them off, signaling them to leave. They didn't dare linger and closed the door behind them as they left.
Diana looked at the array of wines on the table, feeling intrigued. Back in the organization, she could drink a lot. But then she remembered the child in her womb, and her expression turned nervous. She asked, "Mr. Percy, are you challenging me to a drinking contest?"
"A drinking contest?" Charles sneered, "Do I need to compete with you? Drink all of these, and I'll accept your apology."
Diana's eyes widened. "All of them?" There were a dozen or so bottles of various sizes on the table. 'How could I possibly drink them all? Never mind the alcohol, even finishing this amount of water is impossible.'
"Yes, all of them, and swallow." Seeing her pale face, Charles mocked, "What's the matter? Not up for it? Then go home and wait for the Spencer Group's bankruptcy news."
Diana's eyes flickered, and she confirmed his words again, "Mr. Percy, are you saying that if I drink all of these and swallow, the Spencer Group will be safe?"
Charles nodded and leaned back on the sofa to watch her. There was no way she could finish all that wine, no matter how good her tolerance was. Charles just wanted to see her make a fool of herself when she got drunk. By then, she'd be a mess and could only cry when she got home. Thinking of this scene, Charles felt a bit better.
"Keep your word." Diana looked at Charles and said this. Then she lowered her head to examine the wines. She doubted some of these wines were even from the cellar. 'Would the Percy Family cellar store $10 fruit wines?'
But those three large bottles of red wine over there looked like they were from the cellar.
Diana first categorized them by alcohol content, drinking the lower-alcohol ones first. This way, she wouldn't get drunk as easily and could drink for a longer time.
The first few low-alcohol ones were sweet, with a fruity aroma when opened, making Diana quite happy. But Charles slowly frowned, feeling very displeased.
However, there were only two or three small sweet ones. After those, the rest were bitter, astringent, or spicy. Diana's face started to show her discomfort, but she kept drinking until she had downed about eight or nine bottles.
Her throat tightened, and her mouth started to water, making her want to puke. She quickly rushed to the bathroom and threw up everything she had just drunk.
It was rough, but luckily, she had eaten some bread earlier. Diana pulled herself together and came back to the table with red-rimmed eyes.
Charles glared at her angrily. "Who told you to throw up?"
Diana looked innocent and reminded him, "Mr. Percy, you said to drink all of these and swallow. You didn't say I couldn't throw up. Keep your word."
Charles finally got why Diana had kept confirming his words. She was planning to exploit this loophole. He smirked. "Fine, continue."
Seeing that he wasn't making things harder for her anymore, Diana breathed a sigh of relief and sat down to keep drinking. But having just thrown up, she felt her tongue astringent, and the bitter wines were hard to swallow.
Although Diana used to have a good tolerance, she mostly drank mixed cocktails. Dean had even mocked her for only being able to drink sweet, fruity drinks.
Seeing Charles still watching her, Diana gathered her courage again. 'No problem, I can throw up after drinking.' Diana reassured herself, then pinched her nose and drank it all in one go as if it were medicine. Although she could still taste the alcohol, it was better than drinking it straight.
After just two bottles, she got up to vomit. This time, she hadn't drunk much, so she couldn't throw up, but she couldn't let the alcohol numb her. Diana had to force herself to vomit.
Afterward, she was far less energetic than the first time, and her steps were unsteady. 'No, I am almost done; only a few large bottles are left. Diana, hold on!' She encouraged herself inwardly. Returning to the table, she didn't say a word.
She just numbly poured the liquid into her mouth. Sometimes, she poured too quickly, and the wine trickled down her neck. Feeling hot, Diana took off her jacket. Underneath was a white blouse, with the top three buttons undone. She wore no jewelry, revealing her delicate collarbone. Her chest was wet with wine, showing the outline of her bra.
Charles's expression was unreadable as he stared at her throat, which moved with each swallow, feeling a bit hot himself.
Diana drank four bottles and then went to vomit again. She felt terrible while forcing herself to vomit.
Charles noticed the blood marks on her knuckles, caused by her teeth while inducing vomiting.
Diana didn't care about the minor injury, not knowing how many times she had repeated the cycle of drinking and vomiting.
She felt hot, stopped thinking, but she was still conscious. Pointing to the three remaining bottles of red wine, she said, "Mr. Percy, three bottles left. Once I finish, are we even?"
Diana looked miserable, her face pale, hair disheveled. Her clothes clung to her wet body, making her feel cold. But victory was in sight, and she had no time to care about that.
Seeing her in such a sorry state, Charles didn't feel as pleased as he had expected. Instead, he felt more conflicted, wanting to smash something. And he did just that. While Diana was vomiting, Charles smashed a bottle on the ground. The sound of breaking glass somewhat alleviated his rage.
When Diana came out and saw only two bottles left, she tilted her head and asked, "Why are there only two bottles? Mr. Percy, you broke this one yourself, so it doesn't count. Or do you want to get another one just like it?"
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