His cocktail-making skills were impressive, and his profile was incredibly charming. With his long fingers shaking the delicate bottle, a confident, elegant smile played at the corner of his lips, with just a hint of rebellion.
Sitting there at the bar, many girls were already enchanted by him just from his silhouette.
In that moment, even Natasha Portman had to admit his perfection.
But there was one thing, even after she had downed a drink, Natasha Portman remained perfectly clear-headed.
That was: his charm, his graceful manners, his gentlemanly demeanor around women, and the way he made girls swoon. All of it had been earned at the expense of numerous other girls.
She remembered all too well what he had said to her at his house that day, and she also clearly recalled the two-year deadline she had given him.
As she was lost in thought, she saw him coming toward her, holding a freshly mixed drink.
The icy blue liquid in the glass shimmered under the lights, giving a cold impression just by looking at it.
"This one's made just for you," he said, placing the drink in front of her. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as he spoke.
"This cocktail's name is… Virgin…"
His gaze was suggestive, his demeanor that of a playful, roguish gentleman.
Just hearing those two words made Natasha Portman's face turn pale. She stood up, about to leave, but he quickly grabbed her delicate wrist.
"Hey, I'm not done yet. The real name of this drink is… Virgo, alright?"
Louis Donald had deliberately teased her by separating the words to play on her reaction. Natasha Portman, now even more embarrassed, tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let go of her hand. He said with a look of mock seriousness:
"You really can't take a joke, can you?"
She shot him a glare, irritated. Wasn't it him who started with the inappropriate words?
Louis Donald, holding the glass, then announced:
"Alright, actually, the real name of this drink is… Hedgehog!"
It was fitting for her, wasn't it? Because in his eyes, she was like a hedgehog, bristling with sharp quills to keep others at bay. That's why he made her a drink named "Hedgehog" and gave it to her.
For Natasha Portman, the name "Hedgehog" was like another painful jab to her heart. Did this man really need to see her in a pitiful state before he was satisfied?
Yet, he didn't let up, still pressing on:
"Your fiancé made this drink just for you. Don't you think walking away like that would be too disrespectful?"
Natasha Portman really wanted to get as far away from him as possible. So, at his comment, she swiftly picked up the glass, tilted her head back, and drank it in one go. Before Louis Donald could react, she had already downed it.
Louis Donald watched in surprise. This was the strongest vodka mix he had made...
Seeing him still staring at her, Natasha Portman coldly asked, "Can I leave now?"
She shook off his hand, which was still holding hers, and took a step toward the exit.
But her legs felt weak, as if they were walking on air, and she stumbled forward.
Louis Donald, watching her fall into his arms, sighed with frustration. At first, he thought she had a strong tolerance when she downed that "No Turning Back" drink. But now, it was clear her alcohol tolerance was actually quite low.
But why did this woman have to pretend to be strong when she couldn't handle it?
Why couldn't she just show some weakness or act cute?
Since Louis Donald had also been drinking, he called the driver to drive them back. He helped the heavily intoxicated woman into the backseat, though she repeatedly tried to push him away in irritation.
"Get off me!"
"Mind your own business!"
He was furious, wanting nothing more than to leave her here and forget about it. He felt that coming here to find her tonight had been an absolutely ridiculous decision. Despite his years of experience dealing with women, he had never been rejected or dismissed like this before.
Once in the car, she curled up in the corner with her eyes closed. He was about to ask her where she lived so he could take her home, but he realized he had no idea where the Portman family lived, as he had never interacted with them before.
"Stop, stop!"
The driver quickly pulled over. After all, such an expensive car couldn't be ruined by vomit.
Before the car had even fully stopped, she opened the door and ran out. Louis Donald followed, sweating nervously, frowning as he grabbed her coat.
What a night.
It might have been the stuffy air in the car, but as soon as Natasha Portman got out and breathed in the fresh air, she found herself unable to stop herself from vomiting. She wiped her tears away with her hand, got up, and staggered forward.
The alcohol had completely taken over her mind. If she had been sober, there was no way she would be wandering the streets in a backless dress at this time of night, making such a disgraceful spectacle of herself.
Meanwhile, Louis Donald, leaning against a tree by the roadside and lighting a cigarette to calm his frustration, saw her walking away. He threw the cigarette down and hurried after her.
"Hey, what are you doing? If you're not going to throw up, get back in the car!"
"No!"
Natasha Portman shook off his hand and staggered forward in her high heels. Louis Donald shouted angrily,
"What's wrong with you?"
The driver caught up and, looking a bit awkward, said,
"Mr. Donald, this area doesn't allow for long-term parking…"
Louis Donald glared at her stubborn figure ahead, gritted his teeth, and ordered,
"Go ahead and find a place to park up ahead and wait for me there!"
The driver obeyed the command and drove off, leaving Louis Donald to take a deep breath and calm the boiling anger inside him. He quickly caught up with the defiant woman and yanked her into the sidewalk.
What was she thinking, wobbling so drunkenly in the middle of the street like that?
"Thank you..."
She tilted her head and smiled at him, her eyes blurry, her beautiful features soft and intoxicating.
Then she wobbled forward again, humming that song under her breath.
...
Louis Donald, behind her, tugged at his tie in frustration. What was going on? Had she somehow affected him? When she smiled and thanked him just now, he had been momentarily distracted, almost lost in her gaze.
Louis Donald's frustration reached a boiling point as he struggled to contain his emotions. His face flushed with embarrassment—he couldn't believe this was happening. If anyone had seen him right now, he would never be able to show his face in Seattle again. Fortunately, it was late at night, and the roads were nearly empty.
Grimacing, he stepped forward and roughly wrapped her up in her coat.
"Can't you just calm down for a minute?" he muttered under his breath.
He didn't know it then, but in the years to come, he would never see Natasha Portman quite like this again—raw, vulnerable, and a little reckless. She would build a hard shell around herself, one that no one would be able to break through.
Natasha, still in his embrace, blinked her bleary eyes and stared at him for a long moment before suddenly bursting out into a laugh.
"Louis Donald?" she asked, her voice hazy.
Before he could react, she shoved him away with surprising force and pointed a trembling finger at him, her voice rising in anger.
"Louis Donald, don't think you're the only one unwilling to go through with this marriage! Don't think you're the only one who feels wronged!"
Her words grew more frantic as she spoke, the anger and frustration in her voice giving way to something deeper, something raw.
"I had a boyfriend in England, you know! He was way more handsome than you, more refined, more mature. You think you're the only one with someone you care about? You think you're the only one who feels trapped in this?"
With those words, she seemed to collapse, her energy drained. She staggered backward and fell into a crouch, burying her face in her hands as she cried out softly, the anguish in her voice impossible to ignore.
"Steven, I miss you. I miss you so much... Please, save me. Take me away..."
Her cries were desperate, as if calling out to someone only she could hear. Louis stood there, stunned, unsure of what to do next.