The Man Who Never Looked Away novel Chapter 227

Garnett stared at Lavinia, narrowing his eyes as he spoke with measured intensity. "Say that again."

"Sorry about that, Mr. Harper, I forgot you were hard of hearing. I'll say it a little louder."

Lavinia met his gaze head-on.

"I never liked you. From the very beginning, it was all fake."

"Even getting drunk on our first date, I was just acting. I can actually drink anyone under the table."

Lavinia grabbed the sake carafe from the table and downed the small bottle in a single gulp, then tipped it upside down to show not a single drop was left.

Her head was already swimming.

"Garnett Harper, you think just because you have a little money, the whole world is going to line up to kiss your feet? A man with zero class like you—even if someone did want you, it'd only be for your cash."

"I'm tired of pretending. Stop bothering me."

Garnett stared hard at Lavinia. She looked away.

After a long silence, he turned and left without a word.

"Garnett!"

Sigrid grabbed her bag, shot Lavinia a look, and hurried after him.

The moment they were gone, Lavinia let out a long exhale.

She was incredibly dizzy. If they hadn't left right then, she would have collapsed face-first onto the table right in front of him.

The sake had really gone to her head. She slowly sat down, resting her head on the table. She just wanted to sleep for a bit.

Through the haze, a gentle voice called out next to her ear. "Lavinia, wake up."

Lavinia forced her heavy eyelids open. It was Charley Sheffield.

"You're back."

"I'm taking you home."

He used his suit jacket to shield her face and scooped her up into his arms.

Lavinia leaned into his chest, the faint scent of cedar making her feel incredibly secure.

She closed her eyes and mumbled, "I was amazing today. I recorded it. Remember to back it up."

Charley looked down at the woman in his arms.

The corners of her mouth were slightly turned up—smug, yet totally at peace.

He tightened his grip on her.

"Good job."

He swallowed the rest of his words and carried her out with long, purposeful strides.

Left with no choice, Lavinia obediently ate it.

It was delicious. The warm broth soothed her stomach, and she instantly felt a hundred times better.

Charley scooped another spoonful, lowering his head to blow on it again.

Feeding someone soup was such an incredibly clichéd, old-school romantic gesture, yet he did it so naturally that Lavinia felt embarrassed for even being awkward about it.

"Charley, that recording I made tonight—can it be used as evidence?" Lavinia asked.

"It can," he replied, his eyes lowered, concealing his emotions.

Lavinia continued, "I did exactly what you taught me. I made sure to mention both of their names. And I got her to admit it herself."

Charley's hand paused halfway to the bowl.

After a few seconds of silence, he spoke in a low voice. "That's enough. You did a great job. Let me handle the rest from here."

Lavinia got the distinct impression he didn't want to talk about it.

She thought it over for a moment, and then it suddenly clicked.

They were discussing something incredibly degrading.

Her husband and another woman, sleeping together in her own marital bed.

She was probably so emotionally numb by now that she was treating adultery, recordings, and gathering evidence like it was nothing more than a technical problem to solve.