Son-In-Law Madness

Chapter 937

Is labeling someone as being a good match for wearing silk stockings viewed as a compliment?

Nevertheless, Amelia refrained from engaging in debates with Donald about such matters. She addressed him, saying, “Mr. Campbell, are we ready to depart now?”

“Sure. I'll hail a taxi.”

The nightlife scene tends to be more forgiving for men.

Typically, women leaned toward dressing with intricate care, while for men, avoiding a disheveled appearance was generally sufficient.

Donald hailed a taxi and went straight to the entrance of the nightclub.

Having gained insight from his previous encounter of being halted at the entrance, Donald this time extracted the cash he had readied beforehand to cover the entrance fee. He proceeded to walk directly in, accompanied by Amelia.

“Is this your first time here?”

Previously, upon observing Amelia's attire, Donald had assumed that she was a regular at bars.

However, as he observed Amelia's bashful and anxious demeanor, she appeared entirely akin to a well-behaved girl who had never set foot in a bar before.

Amelia huffed, “What's so fun about this place anyway? Is it strange that I've never been here before?”

“Hahaha, not at all strange. Just stay by my side later on, and don't let anyone whisk you away,” said the man.

The bar buzzed with people, a throng that seemed almost overwhelmingly crowded.

It wasn't that the venue lacked space, but these men and women appeared to relish pressing close, taking advantage of each other. It was as if they believed that only through such physical connections could they genuinely embrace a youth devoid of regrets.

With one hand firmly holding onto Amelia, Donald skillfully paved the way through the bustling crowd ahead.

Amidst this, numerous men couldn't help but notice Amelia's striking beauty and contemplated capitalizing on the congested environment to approach her.

Unfortunately for them, Donald seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. Every time these men approached Amelia, he seemed to intervene just in the nick of time, thwarting their advances.

As a professional woman in the corporate world, Amelia couldn't help but feel a certain unease in such a setting.

However, witnessing Donald's protective actions stirred something within her, and her heart suddenly raced. Whether it was due to the booming music in the bar or some other cause remained uncertain.

After the two settled into a booth, it didn't take long before a waiter came over, asking what they would

like to drink.

“Two glasses of milk,” said Donald.

The waiter hesitated briefly, caught off guard. “Sir, are you sure you want two glasses of milk?”

Donald cast a glance at him and inquired, “Is it that you don't offer milk in your bar?”

“Of course, we do. Please wait a moment.”

Having served as a waiter at the bar for a considerable duration, he had encountered a diverse array of patrons.

Consequently, when confronted with Donald's milk request, the waiter merely grumbled inwardly, though he was obliged to fulfill Donald's order nonetheless.

Amelia never quite enjoyed such a noisy environment and found herself struggling to immerse herself in the vibrant atmosphere.

She knit her brows and addressed Donald, “Mr. Campbell, do you truly believe that we can settle the United Hearts Society matter by simply ordering two glasses of milk in this place?”

Donald replied with a smile, “Perhaps not immediately, but it'll work in a little while.”

“It'll work in a little while?”

As Amelia was lost in confusion, she found herself approached by a man donning a gold chain and holding a glass of wine, his smile wide.

“Hello there, lovely lady. Your beauty hasn't gone unnoticed by me, even after spending quite a while in this place. You're the first to truly capture my attention. Care to join me for a drink, sweetheart?”

Observing the abrupt arrival of this man, Amelia wasn't just repulsed; she felt a sense of unease creep over her.

At a glance, it was evident that this middle-aged man wasn't exactly a saint. What stood out most about him was the brazen exhibition of his own desires, as though any utterance from him necessitated acquiescence.

“I don't know you.”

“Isn't it by sharing a drink that we become familiar? Young lady, I'm Emmett Speight. What might your name be?”

As Emmett continued speaking, he prepared to make a pass on Amelia.

It was then Donald made his move.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.