Chapter 980

“If you don’t want to drink with me, that’s fine. But why won’t you let me drink? You’re so mean!” Queenie’s voice rose, whether intentionally or due to her intoxication.

Almost everyone in the room turned to look. Even Shane found the scene exciting. He mused that it would be perfect if Red, also drunk, were to say, “Shane, you’re so naughty.”

Beatriz, witnessing this, flew into a rage. She stood, walked over with a stern expression, pointed at Queenie, and angrily declared, “You, get out! You’re not welcome at this banquet!”

Queenie’s eyes welled with tears, her expression instantly aggrieved and her eyes reddening. A woman’s tears often evoke sympathy, especially from men.

“Emmanuel, it’s late. Why don’t you take Ms. Banner home?” Terence, also wanting to prevent further disruption, instructed.

Emmanuel nodded in agreement.

However, Beatriz quickly interjected, “No! Let someone else take her. Shane would be perfect. I can’t let—”

“Shut up!” Terence interrupted, giving his granddaughter a stern look before she could utter “brother-in-law.”

Beatriz, disheartened, fell silent. She understood her grandfather’s intentions. Revealing Emmanuel as her brother-in-law would cause a scandal, and her sister would inevitably learn of it. While her grandfather trusted her brother-in-law, she didn't trust Queenie, fearing Emmanuel might be seduced if he took her home. She worried he might make a mistake in the heat of the moment, leaving her sister devastated.

“I’ll take her home. Call if you need anything,” Emmanuel said, helping Queenie to her feet and escorting her out.

Shane watched with envy. Moments before, Beatriz had suggested he take Queenie home, a task he’d eagerly accepted. After all, Queenie was considered the village belle of Hero’s Village; many young boys dreamed of walking her home.

Queenie remained outwardly composed until they left the banquet hall. Then, she stumbled, nearly falling. Emmanuel quickly caught her, steadying her at her waist. She then deliberately leaned into his embrace. The scent of her perfume and alcohol filled his senses. Most men would have found her alluring figure provocative.

Emmanuel remained unmoved. “Queenie, are you able to walk?” he asked.

Queenie didn’t respond, seemingly asleep in his arms. Emmanuel summoned two female hotel attendants, tipped them, and instructed, “Please help me carry her to the car.”

The attendants were surprised. He seemed strong enough to lift her himself; she weighed less than a hundred pounds. They wondered if he was simply being formal. Regardless, they accepted the tip and helped her into the car.

Queenie promptly fell asleep, limbs sprawled ungracefully. She had clearly had too much to drink. Her figure was undeniably alluring, like ripe fruit—a tempting sight for any man with weak willpower.

Fortunately, Emmanuel was not susceptible. He also possessed medical skills. After massaging several acupoints, Queenie began to sober up. She leaned out the car window and vomited. Emmanuel offered her hot water from a thermos.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully, drinking it quickly, her eyes still slightly wet.

“Where do you live? I’ll take you home,” Emmanuel asked politely.

“Number 33, Onyx Lane. It’s near the mine,” Queenie replied.

Emmanuel nodded and drove. The journey was quiet and somewhat awkward.

“We’re here.” Emmanuel dropped Queenie off, not going inside.