Chapter 108
In the living room, Gideon lay sprawled on the sofa. He'd downed an entire bottle of whiskey. The bottle was empty, his stomach burned with searing pain, yet he wasn't drunk.
Or rather, he wanted to be drunk, but his consciousness remained terrifyingly clear.
His phone rang again. This time, his secretary.
The secretary had called repeatedly without answer, nearly frantic. Finally connecting, he spoke rapidly. "Mr. Getty finally reached you. Mr. Baldwin is looking for you. Says he needs to discuss the new project."
"Not seeing anyone." Gideon cut him off directly.
"But Mr. Baldwin says it's urgent..."
"I said I'm not seeing anyone!" Gideon raised his voice.
Silence on the other end.
Gideon hung up, silenced his phone, then tossed it on the sofa.
He leaned back, closing his eyes. The alcohol was hitting him now, his head spinning, yet Josephine's calm eyes appeared clearly in his mind.
"Jojo..."
He murmured, voice hoarse. Even saying that name now brought a stab of pain to his chest.
Before he knew it, he'd fallen asleep.
And had a nightmare.
In his dream, Josephine left with a man whose face he couldn't see. He tried to chase them, but couldn't catch up no matter what.
He just felt that man was so familiar—even without seeing his face, the figure was familiar enough to inexplicably infuriate him.
Gideon woke with a start, hearing urgent doorbell chimes.
He braced his hands on his knees, breathing heavily, unmoving.
At the door might be Lorelei or Briana. Either way, he didn't want to see anyone right now.
But the doorbell kept ringing persistently, one chime after another, relentless.
Gideon stood irritably, stumbling to the door and yanking it open. "I said I'm not—"
The words caught in his throat.
Outside stood not Lorelei, nor Briana.
It was Frank.
The man in his thirties wore a dark gray suit, eyes sharp and clear behind his glasses. He carried a briefcase—clearly just from the office.
Seeing Gideon's condition, Frank frowned.
"I heard you weren't going to the office, weren't answering calls." Frank's voice was calm. The moment the door opened, he smelled the pungent alcohol. "Now I see you plan to drink yourself to death at home."
Gideon said nothing, turning back to the living room.
Frank followed, inadvertently kicking an empty bottle that had rolled to his feet. He frowned. "The preliminary proposal for the new project is ready. Needs your signature."
"I said I'm not seeing anyone." Gideon sank back into the sofa, rubbing his aching temples.
Frank spoke bluntly. "Because of Josephine Kennedy?"
Gideon's movements froze.
"You're making yourself a mess over one woman?" Frank's voice carried mockery. "Gideon, the man I know isn't like this."
Gideon looked up, eyes bloodshot. "Then what is the man you know like?"
"At least, he'd remember what he once told me."
Frank still remembered his most defeated day—when Gideon had found him. Told him he'd use every resource to cultivate him, let him go all out, build something great, silence all those voices accusing him of plagiarism.
"I pulled myself together because you promised me you'd help." Frank looked at the defeated Gideon before him. "Your current state—are you telling me the boss I pledged loyalty to is a coward who drowns in alcohol when facing relationship problems?"
Gideon's expression changed.
Frank's words were like cold water dumped over his head.
"Josephine wants to leave, so you just let her go?" Frank continued. "You taught me that as long as you want something, as long as you dare, there's nothing you can't have. You taught me to succeed by any means necessary—all the abuse would vanish in glory."
Gideon's knuckles went white, gripping the sofa armrest.
"If you really want to keep her..." Frank had never been in love—he didn't understand these things. But he understood at least one thing. "Then find a way to keep her. Don't sit here wallowing in self-pity. I think Josephine wouldn't like you this way either."
Gideon looked up, some light rekindling in his eyes, carrying near-obsessive determination.
"You're right." He wiped his face, standing. Most of the drunkenness had dissipated. "She wouldn't like me this way."
Frank watched him pull himself together, nodding slightly. "Now that's the Gideon I know."
"The new project files?"
Frank pulled documents from his briefcase and handed them over. "Sign, then take a shower and change. Nobody will work with you looking like this."
He finally couldn't control his disgusted expression. You didn't notice when you were the one drinking, but watching someone else, you realized how awful alcohol smelled.
Gideon signed and tossed the documents back.
Frank was surprised. "You're not reviewing the contents?"
Gideon rubbed his forehead—too much alcohol had given him a headache. "I trust you."
"Don't worry. I won't disappoint you." Frank looked at him with complex emotions before finally turning to leave.
...
Inside the private room, the atmosphere was lively.
"Another round!"
"Bring it on! Just don't end up under the table!"
Emma acted like one of the guys—bold and generous—matching Aiden drink for drink. Others couldn't get a word in, just watching.
Josephine sat nearby, clutching a glass, frowning as she drank.
She didn't like alcohol, but everyone was happy today. She didn't want to spoil the mood, so she took symbolic sips.
Cedric glanced at her, removed the glass from her hand, and placed a beverage in her palm. "If you don't like it, don't force yourself."
Josephine stared at him briefly, then curved her lips.
"Thanks."
Who knew Cedric had such a considerate side?
Kenneth, nearby, held a beverage, movements pausing. He ultimately wasn't as quick as Cedric. He could only silently drink it himself.
He frowned, glancing at Cedric.
Midway through, Cedric stepped out. Kenneth hesitated before following.
At the restroom entrance, Kenneth waited. Cedric emerged, giving him a cool glance before stopping. "Say it."
Kenneth paused. "You... knew I was waiting for you?"
Cedric spoke flatly. "If you have something to say, say it."
Kenneth didn't know why he'd followed. He just felt he wanted to ask something, but under Cedric's cool gaze... the words wouldn't come.
He hated having such a clumsy tongue!
"I... you..."
Cedric watched him stammer, frowning. He least liked people like this.
"You want to ask if I like Josephine?"
Kenneth froze but felt relieved internally. He really couldn't ask—having the other party bring it up saved him the psychological preparation.
"Yes. You seem particularly different toward Josephine."
Cedric lowered his gaze briefly. "So what if I do? What if I don't? What do you plan to do?"
What to do...
Kenneth honestly didn't know himself. He answered dully. "I'm not planning anything. I just..."
He belatedly caught on.
The other party hadn't denied it.
"You like Josephine." This time, Kenneth's tone was certain.
Cedric still neither denied nor confirmed. "So, are you going to tell Josephine? Or compete with me?"
Kenneth hadn't expected such frankness. The tone wasn't aggressive, yet somehow created inexplicable pressure.
He didn't speak. Cedric had nothing more to say and brushed past him.
But in that instant, Kenneth's voice rang out. "You're not right for each other."