No Second Baby No You Only Divorce (Scarlett and Vincent) novel Chapter 726

Lucy glanced up at Luke, her vision slightly blurred. "That's crap. You're the one who's wasted."

Luke had heard enough. Straightening up, he took Lucy's hand firmly. "All right, I'm taking you home. You can't handle your drinks, yet you still down this much—and when you're drunk, you've got zero decorum. Who's gonna put up with you later on?"

Lucy stuck out her lower lip. "You're the lightweight."

Not interested in arguing, Luke simply scooped her up into his arms without another word.

At the same time, he said to Vincent, "Vincent, I'm getting her home. You should head out soon, too."

Vincent gave a brief nod. "Got it."

Then Luke carried Lucy out of the room.

On the way out, Lucy kept waving a hand vaguely in the air. "C'mon, Scarlett... bottoms up!"

Scarlett turned and watched her. Seeing Lucy so completely out of it yet still oddly adorable, she couldn't help a soft laugh.

And Vincent happened to catch that laugh.

When she noticed his gaze fixed on her, Scarlett started slightly. Realizing he was watching, she stood up quickly. "I should get going, too."

She rose too fast—her head spun, balance failing, and she nearly tipped straight toward the floor.

But Vincent's hand shot out, closing around her arm.

Once she steadied herself, Scarlett became aware of the heavy, sluggish feeling in her limbs.

She'd definitely overdone it with the drinks.

Her mind was still clear-ish, but her body wasn't keeping up.

Feeling Vincent's grip on her arm, Scarlett tried to pull away. "Let go."

Vincent didn't release her. Instead, he rose the next moment, his tone cool. "You're in no state. I'll take you home."

Home?

Where even was home anymore?

Scarlett actually paused to consider the question.

But before she could follow that thought, Vincent leaned down as if to lift her.

The moment he moved toward her, Scarlett called out sharply, "Damian!"

Almost as soon as the name left her lips, the private room door was shoved hard from outside.

Scarlett looked over to see Damian standing there in a black overcoat. He strode inside, deliberately pushing Vincent's hand aside with a firm, possessive motion.

At the same time, he said to Vincent, tone leaving no room for courtesy, "Don't trouble yourself, Mr. Stewart. I'll take care of my own woman."

Vincent's voice dropped, low and dangerous. "Damian. You're asking for it."

Damian's grin only widened. "Asking for it? You think I'm scared of a fight, Vincent?"

Scarlett didn't want this to escalate. Tugging lightly on Damian's coat, she murmured, "Damian... let's just go."

Her head was swimming. She'd clearly had too much, and her body felt weak, boneless.

If Vincent weren't here, she probably would've leaned right into Damian already.

Damian sensed her unease. He turned, bent smoothly, and lifted her into his arms.

Scarlett buried her face against his neck and looped her arms around him.

Watching them, Damian looked like he'd just won something. The pride and satisfaction on his face were unmistakable.

As he turned to leave, he threw Vincent one last dismissive glance.

Then, looking down at Scarlett, his expression softened into pure tenderness. "Alright, sweetheart. Your husband's taking you home."

Scarlett didn't reply, but she could feel the icy, oppressive energy radiating from Vincent's direction.

Not wanting to be pinned under that weight any longer, she pressed herself even closer against Damian.