Don't Be a Tease, Mr. Blackwood

Chapter 92: Chapter 92: She Has Equal Inheritance Rights

Alaric Blackwood completely ignored the speechless look on Evan Ford’s face. Tilting his head, he buried his face in the crook of Sophie Shaw’s neck, his voice soft and affectionate. "Honey, let’s order."

"Are you still in a bad mood?"

’Otherwise, why would he be drinking and sulking by himself?’

He leaned lazily against her, his tone nonchalant. "I’m in a bad mood. Is my honey going to cheer me up?"

’I could cheer him up, but I’m too embarrassed to say that with Evan Ford right here.’

She glanced up at the very proper-looking Evan Ford, feeling awkward. She also figured Alaric Blackwood was probably a little drunk.

"Let’s just order first."

She picked up the menu from the table, not pushing Alaric Blackwood away and simply letting him lean on her.

After they ordered, she said to Evan Ford, "Mr. Ford, the matriarch showed me the factory. The location is excellent and it’s big enough for my needs. Let’s discuss the rent."

"We’re family. Why would we talk about rent?"

"We should still discuss it."

’Even close brothers keep clear accounts,’ she thought. She didn’t want to take advantage of them.

"Grandmother has already decided to transfer that property to your name."

Sophie paused, stunned. "Is it because she feels guilty about what happened to me, or...?"

"It has nothing to do with guilt. What’s important is that we’re related by blood. You have the same right to the inheritance as I do. If Mr. Shaw hadn’t prevented you from acknowledging our family back then, you would have received much more than just this one property."

Evan Ford finished his objective explanation, then poured a cup of hot tea and placed it on the lazy Susan. He spun it to bring the tea directly in front of Sophie. "You don’t need to feel burdened by this. It was always rightfully yours."

Sophie fell silent, seriously mulling over Evan Ford’s words.

Alaric Blackwood stopped leaning on her and sat up properly in his own seat. He reached out, took the cup of hot tea from the lazy Susan, and placed it by Sophie’s hand.

"Evan’s right."

He patted Sophie’s shoulder, encouraging her to accept the offer without hesitation.

The waiter began bringing their dishes. Sophie picked up her chopsticks and ate in silence.

With Evan Ford for company, Alaric Blackwood ate and chatted, and the two of them drank quite a bit. Alaric, in particular, downed one glass after another.

As the alcohol took effect, the normally quiet Evan Ford started to talk more.

He asked Sophie, "How did Mr. Shaw treat you?"

The question undoubtedly tore open an old wound for Sophie.

She forced a smile. "He was... alright."

"Alright?"

’A father’s treatment of his own daughter was just... alright?’

He mulled over that single word, then suddenly smiled. "So that means he was bad to you."

Sophie didn’t deny it. She couldn’t help but ask, "When my mother was sick, did my father really never contact you, not even once?" freeweɓnøvel.com

"Never."

Evan Ford was eleven the year Mina Ford passed away, old enough to understand what was happening.

He clearly remembered the day his grandparents received the call from Mandy Halloway informing them of Mina Ford’s death. His grandmother had fainted on the spot. From that day on, his grandfather’s health went into a steady decline. It only took a few years for his body to completely break down, forcing him to hand over control of the company to Evan’s parents and retire early.

"There isn’t a parent in the world who doesn’t love their child, even if they sometimes make mistakes."

Having said his piece, Evan Ford fell silent.

He poured himself another drink and clinked glasses with Alaric Blackwood.

The bottle was soon empty. Just as Evan Ford was about to call the waiter to order another, Sophie stopped him.

"Don’t drink any more."

Alaric Blackwood’s face didn’t flush when he drank; he already had a fair complexion. Under the bright lights, his handsome face looked somewhat pale, and the same was true for Evan Ford.

Neither of them looked well, and Sophie didn’t dare let them continue drinking.

"I’ll listen to my honey."

Alaric Blackwood closed his eyes and rested his head on Sophie’s shoulder. "Honey, I’m dizzy."

"Well, that’s what you get for drinking so much."

"Can you make me some hangover soup when we get home?" he wheedled, his voice soft.

Evan Ford, sitting opposite them, couldn’t bear to watch any longer. He discreetly stood up, left the private room, and went downstairs to pay the bill.

After paying the bill and arranging for a designated driver, he ran into an acquaintance on the stairs as he was heading back to the room.

It was the second young master of the Lynch family, Oscar Lynch.

Oscar had his arm around a beautiful young woman who, coincidentally, Evan recognized. It was Claire Sterling, the same woman Stella Yarrow had introduced to him just the day before.

The pair had clearly just finished dinner and were on their way out.

Oscar Lynch looked at him, surprised. "Mr. Ford, what a coincidence! You’re eating here too?"

"Yeah."

"By yourself?"

"No, with friends."

"Mr. Blackwood or Garland?"

"Alaric and his wife."

An image from Alaric Blackwood’s wedding day—the boisterous wedding night pranks—flashed through Oscar Lynch’s mind.

His eyes lit up. Suddenly, he was in no hurry to leave. With his arm still around Claire Sterling, he followed Evan Ford back up to the second floor.

"It’s been a while since the wedding. I’ll just pop in and say hi to Mr. Blackwood."

"Suit yourself."

Rubbing his dizzy head, Evan Ford walked ahead. Seeing him stumble slightly, Claire Sterling reached out to steady him. "Mr. Ford, are you all right?"

"I’m fine."

Evan Ford pulled his arm away and casually shoved his hands into his trouser pockets.

Claire Sterling gave him an awkward glance, then leaned in to whisper something in Oscar Lynch’s ear.

After listening, Oscar Lynch let out a low chuckle and whispered back, "Mr. Ford has always been that cold toward women. I heard he’s into men."

Claire Sterling covered her mouth, her surprise evident. "No wonder. So he’s gay."

"Shh, keep your voice down. Don’t let him hear you."

Claire Sterling nodded, took his arm, and followed him into the private room where Alaric Blackwood was.

At that moment, Alaric Blackwood was still leaning on Sophie’s shoulder and acting spoiled. When he saw two people enter behind Evan Ford, he toned it down slightly but didn’t move from his spot, continuing to lean on her.

"Looks like you’ve had a bit too much, Mr. Blackwood," Oscar Lynch teased, glancing at the liquor bottle on the table.

One bottle of Maotai, two small liquor glasses.

He was astonished. "No way, Mr. Blackwood. You and Mr. Ford split one bottle and you’re already drunk?"

From what he remembered, Alaric Blackwood could down an entire bottle of Maotai on his own and not end up in this "limp" state.

"Your tolerance shouldn’t be this low."

’Of all the times for someone to show up and call my bluff,’ Alaric Blackwood thought, a wave of irritation washing over him. freewёbnoνel.com

He ignored Oscar Lynch and shot a look at Evan Ford. Although Evan was dizzy from the alcohol, he immediately understood the unspoken message.

Evan Ford stood up, grabbed his jacket, and said to Oscar Lynch, "You’ve said your hellos. Let’s go."

"Mr. Blackwood’s pretty drunk. Does he need me to see him home?"

"His wife is right here. Why would he need you to do that?"

"I was just worried Mr. Blackwood’s wife couldn’t handle him by herself."

"Mind your own business," Evan Ford said, his expression turning cold.

Oscar Lynch was about to say more, but Evan Ford grabbed him by the back of his collar and physically dragged him out of the private room.

"I already paid the bill."

Leaving that comment behind, Evan Ford departed, still hauling Oscar with him.

Once they were on the ground floor, Evan Ford let go, allowing Oscar Lynch to take Claire Sterling to the front desk to settle their own bill. Evan walked out of the restaurant alone and headed for the parking lot.

Claire Sterling watched him go, then, as if remembering something, turned to Oscar Lynch. "Are you and Mr. Blackwood good friends?"

"Of course. We’re good buddies."

"Did you go to Mr. Blackwood’s wedding?"

"I was there. I went to the ceremony and even joined in on the wedding night pranks. But, you know, I got the feeling Mr. Blackwood didn’t really want to marry her. He was late to pick up the bride that day. His phone was off, and nobody could reach him."