Chapter 269: Connor Hayes Lounged Lazily on the Sofa

Connor Hayes lounged lazily on the sofa, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "I've quit drinking for health reasons. Can't risk it."

Grant Holloway's punch landed on cotton, leaving him frustrated.

"Connor, are you even a man? Too scared to drink?"

"Alcohol has nothing to do with masculinity." Connor adjusted his cuffs leisurely. "As for whether I'm a man, anyone with eyes can see that."

Grant scoffed. "Is this how you act when pursuing Clara?"

"No." Connor wagged his finger. "She's too sharp for pretense."

"Then what do you talk about?"

"World cultures. Financial markets. The artistry of poetry." A glint of amusement flashed in Connor's eyes. "Occasionally, sweet nothings too."

Grant's throat tightened.

Connor added fuel to the fire. "Want details? I could give you a private lecture sometime."

"..."

Grant grabbed his glass and downed it in one gulp.

Three whiskeys later, he loosened his tie, revealing a flushed neck.

Connor frowned. "Did your stomach issues heal?"

"...No."

"So you're destroying yourself the moment Clara's gone?"

Her name stabbed Grant's heart like a knife.

He looked up sharply. "Twelve boxes."

"What?"

"I've taken twelve boxes of stomach medicine since she left." His voice turned hoarse.

Connor's gaze turned icy. "You think self-harm will win her back?"

"Why not?!" Grant's eyes burned red.

"Clearly you don't understand her." Connor signaled a waiter. "Take these away. Bring tea."

The waiter hesitated. "Sir, this is a bar—"

"Then water." Connor's tone brooked no argument.

Grant laughed bitterly. "I don't know her? We were together for six years!"

"Six years and you still misread her? That just proves you're a fool." Connor's voice remained calm. "Or that you never loved her."

"Bullshit!" Grant slammed the table. "I loved her more than anything!"

"Then why the breakup?"

The air froze.

Connor's gaze sharpened like a blade. "Your love meant hurting her? Trampling her dignity? Shattering her trust?"

Each word struck like a slap, draining the color from Grant's face.