Chapter 768
Just as Hertha was about to take a sip from her glass, it was suddenly snatched from her grasp.
Her mood was suddenly interjected and her expression turned sour within a sec, “What the hell?” she grumbled, turning to the
side.
She was about to let out a string of curses, but the sight of Alaric’s devilishly handsome face stopped her in her tracks.
“Why did you snatch my drink? Give it back!”
She reached out to grab the glass he had stolen from her.
Alaric held the glass high above his head and out of her reach; his piercing eyes were sternly fixed on her. “Have you had
enough yet?” He asked.
“A bit of courtesy wouldn’t hurt, would it? I was the one who offered a toast to this lovely lady here. At least let us finish our
drinks,” the man who had been hitting on Hertha earlier chimed in. With his dyed blond hair and smug expression, he was clearly
a seasoned bar-goer who was always on the prowl for women on their own. His demeanor was bold, teetering on the edge of
rude.
Alaric slammed the glass down on the bar counter. The wine in the crystal-clear glass was taken up and down by the force of
gravity and bubbled up white.
He pointed at the glass as his piercing gaze bore through the blond man, “Need me to dial 911 and have the cops explain the
situation. to you?”
The blond man’s cocky demeanor quickly faltered, his eyes displaying a mix of fear and panic. “Alright, alright! You win!” With
that, he grabbed his glass and hurriedly left, as if fearing any delay might deprive him of his freedom.
Hertha’s vision was still foggy. Seeing that the man who had been flirting with her had left, she asked Alaric angrily, “What the
hell, Alaric? Why do you always scare away any man who comes near me? Can’t stand the sight of me, can you?”
She wasn’t a regular at bars and usually only came with her friend Thalassa. They had never had any trouble when they were
together, so she was oblivious to the idea that her drink might have been spiked.
In her eyes, Alaric was just being difficult. He had been sour and irritable toward her ever since she accidentally hit his foot with a
golf club, even though she had sincerely apologized.
She couldn’t forget his disdainful eyes that day, which pierced her heart. She had decided to give up pursuing him.
She had been trying her best to resist her feelings for him, hoping to keep him away and protect her own heart.
Yet there he was, right in front of her.
Alaric met her reproachful gaze as a surge of annoyance filled his chest.
“I can’t stand you? That’s rich!” he laughed scornfully. He picked up the glass and thrust it towards her lips. “You want to drink,
right? Here, drink up! Whoever doesn’t drink is a chicken!”
Annoyed, Hertha snorted and snatched the glass from him. “Fine, I’ll drink! I’m no chicken!”
She was about to drink when Alaric swatted the glass from her hand.
The glass fell onto the marble bar counter, spilling its contents in all directions.
Hertha instinctively jumped back but was still splashed by the spilling liquid.
She stared in disbelief at her clothes, now stained with alcohol, and glared at Alaric. “Alaric, are you out of your mind?!”
He tapped her forehead with his finger, “You are the one out of mind! You should go see a psychiatrist tomorrow!”
Hertha froze and immediately understood his meaning. Furious, she shot back, “Alaric, you’re the one who’s crazy! Your whole
family is crazy!”
“Shut up!” Alaric snapped, his eyes flashing with anger. “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be stained with alcohol, you’d be in way
worse shape. Don’t you get it?”
“What do you mean by that?” Hertha asked. She was unable to make sense of his words at that moment.