His hand slowly lowered, and his demonic pupils flickered with a mysterious light. Suddenly, he looked away and turned to leave.
Returning to the villa, Chester Yale went straight to the living room, took a bottle of wine from the wine cabinet, and poured himself a full glass, drinking it all at once.
The strong alcohol burned his throat, temporarily numbing his senses.
He seemed infatuated with this sensation, drinking one glass after another.
His tall figure lazily leaned against the leather sofa in the living room, his slender legs crossed leisurely.
He held the wine glass in his hand, examining it, his deep gaze as if trying to see someone through the glass...
"Mr. Chester, you've had enough to drink. Drinking any more might harm your health," the butler couldn't help but advise.
He didn't know what was wrong with his master today.
After his previous outing, he had returned and spent half a day hitting a sandbag.
