Chapter 576 Proposal
In the Night Club.
Samuel pushed open the door to the private room and saw that only Zachary was inside. "I thought we were drinking. Why are you alone?"
Zachary replied, "I need to ask you something. Didn't invite anyone else."
Seeing his serious expression, Samuel also became serious. "What's up?"
Feeling a bit thirsty, Samuel grabbed a bottle and poured himself a drink. He had just taken a sip when Zachary pulled out a gray velvet box from somewhere. Judging by its size, it was clearly meant for a ring or some other piece of jewelry.
Samuel choked on his drink. "What are you doing?"
Zachary rolled his eyes. "I want to propose to Winona. I need your help to see if she'll like this ring."
Samuel looked at the massive pink diamond ring and almost blurted out, "Do you think this looks good?" But knowing Zachary for years, he was well aware of his friend's questionable taste. Despite growing up in high society, attending monthly art exhibitions and other aesthetic-enhancing activities, Zachary's sense of style remained hopelessly unrefined.
The pink diamond sparkled under the light, but aside from being expensive, it had no other redeeming qualities. It was too gaudy to wear.
To the untrained eye, it looked like colored glass. To those who knew better, it was too tacky. Who would wear a ring that could cover three fingers?
Samuel refrained from criticizing him. "Whether she likes it or not, you should ask Winona. Outsiders' opinions don't count."
He couldn't bring himself to lie and say he liked it. From what little he knew about Winona, she definitely wouldn't like it either. "An engagement ring isn't a wedding ring. If she doesn't like it, you can always get another one."
Zachary thought about it and agreed. He stopped worrying about the ring. "What about the proposal ceremony? Should I..."
He stopped mid-sentence, waved his hand, and with a smug look said, "Forget it. You're inexperienced. I'll hire a professional. I worked hard to win Winona back. If you mess it up, I'll regret it forever."
Samuel was furious.
It wasn't a big insult, but it was highly offensive.
Samuel gritted his teeth and said, "Then why did you call me here? Just to look at a ring?"
"Yes."
Wow, no beating around the bush.
Since that was the case, Samuel didn't bother being polite. He sneered, "Do you think that ring looks good?"
Zachary held the ring up to the light, seriously saying, "It's pretty. Women like shiny things, right?"
Samuel was speechless and buried his head in his drink.
A little after eight, the two left the Night Club. Samuel had a ten o'clock curfew, and Zachary wanted to get home early to be with Winona.
As they walked to the parking lot, they heard a woman shouting, "Let go of me!"
Zachary and Samuel turned to look.
Not far away, a man was pulling a girl's hair and slapping her. "Be smart. Your dad owes me money and has given you to me as collateral. You should be grateful that I want you. Behave for a month, and the debt will be cleared."
The men around him laughed. "Do your best to please our boss, and you'll get benefits. Your salary as a waitress for a year isn't worth what our boss spends in a day."
The girl looked college-aged, wearing a Night Club waitress uniform with a temporary badge. Her clothes were torn, and she was desperately trying to cover herself.
"No way. My dad owes you money, so go after him. My mom divorced him, and the court gave me to her. I have nothing to do with him," Maeve Harrington said, struggling fiercely.
Her right cheek was swollen, and her lip was bleeding, but her eyes were bright with defiance and pride. "If you don't let go, I'll call the police."
"Call the police?" The man slapped Maeve again. "Go ahead. You owe me money. I'm the victim here. See if the police protect me or you."
He kept slapping her, each hit loud and clear.
Maeve's face was turned to the side, but her eyes remained fixed on the man.
Samuel frowned. "Doesn't she look familiar? Like..."
He thought for a while but couldn't remember who she resembled, so he gave up.
Samuel had seen many situations like this and had no intention of intervening. This wasn't a random encounter with a thug; it was a debt issue. Helping her now wouldn't solve the problem unless he paid off the debt himself. Otherwise, Maeve would continue to face trouble.
The sound of a glass bottle breaking echoed through the parking lot, followed by a man's scream.
Maeve had grabbed a bottle from one of the men and smashed it over the head of the man hitting her. She pointed the sharp end at him. "Go after him. He owes you money, not me. Leave me alone, or I'll fight to the death."
Blood streamed down the man's forehead, staining his eyes. He glared at Maeve, his voice cold. "You dare hit me? I'll show you what happens when you hit me. You were going to a hotel, but now you'll be lucky to be in the wild."
He sneered at his men. "Everyone gets a turn."
He reached to tear Maeve's clothes, but before he could touch her, his hand was grabbed.
Then he was kicked hard in the stomach, rolling several times before stopping.
Zachary frowned, forgetting his leg injury. It hurt, and his head throbbed.
The man started to speak, but was interrupted by security guards who had rushed over after receiving a call. The manager was with them.
Zachary said, "Take them to the police."
He then turned to the manager, his presence commanding. "You and the security on duty tonight will each be fined five hundred dollars. Go to the manager and recite the Night Club's rules."
The manager apologized profusely, promising to be more vigilant.
After everyone left, Maeve shakily approached Zachary. "Thank you."
Zachary glanced at her torn clothes and threw his jacket to her. "No problem."
Samuel raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you care about strangers?"
He looked at Maeve. Her face was swollen, but her features were still recognizable. "I remember what she looks like."
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