I glanced at them and followed inside.
The private room was buzzing. A group of people raised their champagne flutes high and the wine flowed like water.
Just as they burst into celebration, someone accidentally splashed a full glass of liquor. Bianca stepped in front of Darren and got soaked. Her clothes clung to her skin, damp and translucent.
Mine were wet too—but no one noticed.
All attention was fixed on her and Darren.
I quietly took a tissue and wiped the wine off my face and shirt, then found an empty seat in the corner.
Soon, dishes were served and bottles uncorked. The room grew louder with laughter and toasts. Then Darren stood up with his glass in hand.
“The successful completion of this project couldn’t have happened without Ms. Bianca’s tireless effort,” he said with a smile. “Let’s raise a glass to her!”
Everyone stood—except me.
Laughter and applause filled the room. I sat alone, the only silent figure among the celebration.
Then Darren poured himself another glass.
“But tonight, there’s someone else I want to thank,” he continued. “Without his support behind the scenes, we wouldn’t have made it this far.”
He turned to me and raised his glass. “Mr. Scott, this one’s for you.”
I didn’t move.
“Thanks,” I said flatly. “But I’m not feeling well. I can’t drink tonight.”
The smile on Darren’s face froze.
Bianca’s brow furrowed sharply. “Not feeling well? This is the first I’ve heard of it.” Her voice tightened. “Kevin, this is a celebration—not the time for games.”
Darren still tried to smooth things over. He walked over, glass in hand.
“Kevin, I mean this sincerely. Without your support for Ms. Bianca, the company wouldn’t be where it is today.”
He lowered his voice and leaned closer. “Let’s not dwell on what happened at my birthday. That was my bad. I shouldn’t have let her come. Just drink this and let’s move on.”
But I saw the smug glint in his eyes.
I met his gaze coldly. “I told you—I can’t drink.”
“Mr. Scott, come on. We’re both men. Be generous.”
He acted as if he hadn’t heard a word I said and forced the glass into my hand.
I pushed it away. It tipped, spilling wine across his expensive suit.
A stunned hush fell over the room.
Then—clack—Bianca slammed her chopsticks down.
“Kevin, enough already! I let it go the other night. And now Darren is trying to patch things up and you’re still making a scene?”
“‘Not feeling well’? More like being petty.”
She grabbed a bottle, poured a glass to the brim and stormed over.
“Here. Drink.”
Darren tried to de-escalate. “Ms. Bianca, it’s fine. He’s not feeling well—don’t force him.”
A few others chimed in, trying to calm her down.
But Bianca wasn’t backing off.
“Kevin, do I not give you enough respect?”
“You’re a grown man. How long are you going to act like a spoiled brat?”
“Darren is being the bigger person and trying to end this nonsense and you’re still putting up a front? Are you trying to humiliate me?”
I looked at her, baffled. “End a conflict? Did I hear that right? Or are you just delusional? Is that what he’s doing?”
“You’re unbelievable!” she snapped.
Fury blazed in her eyes.
“I’m warning you—either you drink this glass, or get ready for a divorce. I’ve had it. I won’t tolerate another minute of this!”
I nodded, calm and steady.
“Fine. Then let’s divorce.”
