Matthew Clark didn’t even spare George Bennett a glance. He asked the person in front of him, “Should I drink?”

　　“Hell no.” Ryan Miller flicked his index finger, and the dice cup in front of him tumbled to the side.

　　Each of the five small dice inside showed a single red dot—five ones, a “leopard” roll.

　　“George Bennett, you’re not a kid anymore, still having a woman drink for you? Just drink it yourself and get it over with.” Ryan Miller raised an eyebrow, his tone arrogant. “If I say 120 has to take you home, then you’d better obediently lie down in the ambulance tonight. Got it?”

Chapter 5

　　“Exactly.” William Harris, having enjoyed the show, propped her chin and chimed in with a sweet laugh, “Big man like you, still making a woman take your drinks? Not a good look, Young Master Bennett.”

　　George Bennett was stunned for a moment. He hadn’t expected Ryan Miller to casually shake out a “leopard” roll.

　　“When did you learn that trick?” George Bennett smiled, but his expression was far from pleasant. “You can even roll that? Don’t tell me you rigged the dice cup.”

　　“You think too highly of yourself. Why would I waste my time on something like that just to make you drink?” Ryan Miller shrugged. “Trying to dodge ten drinks? Or do you really want your woman to drink for you?”

　　His words sounded like a question, but the disdain in them was impossible to hide.

　　“What’s there to dodge?” George Bennett dropped his smile, his shoulder shifting forward coldly as he subtly brushed off Lili, picking up his glass. “It’s not like I really want her to drink for me. I just wanted to change up the game.”

　　The glasses in the club weren’t that big, but the liquor was strong. George Bennett had bought high-proof foreign spirits just to mess with people, and mixing two kinds together made it especially harsh. After ten glasses, he was already feeling tipsy.

　　“Finish it.” Ryan Miller lifted his chin, pointing at one glass that still had some liquid left. “Leaving that much—what, raising fish in there?”

　　George Bennett swallowed his anger, picked up the glass again, and took another sip. Lili hadn’t been with him long, but she knew his temper. If George Bennett went home angry, she’d be the one to suffer. So she quickly grabbed the bottle to pour him another drink, using a little trick to make sure the glass wouldn’t be too full.

　　But George Bennett raised his hand, blocking the rim of the glass.

　　He’d already had a few drinks before, and with these ten strong ones, he was a bit tipsy and much bolder. His gaze landed on Matthew Clark.

　　“Boss Clark, just sitting there must be boring.” George Bennett said, “Come on, pour me a drink.”

　　All eyes immediately turned to Matthew Clark.

　　Matthew Clark simply looked up, giving him a cool, indifferent glance, not moving at all.

　　Ryan Miller raised an eyebrow at this, instinctively glancing back. The man behind him had sharp features; a flash of his usual aloofness and coldness passed over his face, but he quickly returned to normal.

　　Seeing no reaction, George Bennett urged, “Hurry up, don’t hold up our drinking.”

　　Matthew Clark had just opened his mouth to say something when Ryan Miller cut him off.

　　“And why should he pour you a drink?” Ryan Miller smiled, making it hard to tell if he was mocking or joking. “What, you don’t have hands? Or did the bar run out of waiters?”

　　Ryan Miller had originally wanted to say, “You think you’re worthy?” but felt that would actually be giving Matthew Clark too much credit, so he changed his words at the last second.

　　This was a classic case of a tiger fallen to the plain being bullied by dogs. Ryan Miller saw himself as a vicious dog, and a master at kicking someone when they’re down. But Matthew Clark was his prey—he could drag this tiger home and tear him apart, but he had no intention of letting anyone else get a taste. Especially not George Bennett.

　　Even George Bennett wasn’t dumb enough to miss the insult: “Ryan Miller, what’s that supposed to mean?”

　　“You really don’t get it?” Ryan Miller stopped beating around the bush and bluntly told him to leave. “George Bennett, we’re not close enough to sit and drink together, let alone mess around.”

　　George Bennett had already downed so many drinks, and now, with Ryan Miller exposing him in front of everyone, his face flushed red with anger.

　　“So you were just playing me this whole time?”

　　Ryan Miller shrugged. “You think I have time to play with you?”

　　George Bennett shot to his feet. “You—”

　　“Gentlemen!” The club manager, who had been standing by for a while, saw things going south and quickly stepped forward. “Why are you two sitting together? It’s so crowded. Young Master Bennett, we’ve kept your seat for you—why not go back and sit there?”

　　George Bennett was still standing there, face dark. Ryan Miller had embarrassed him in front of so many people—if he swallowed this, how could he show his face in the future?

　　The hotel manager looked distressed, frozen in place. Both of these men had terrible tempers—he couldn’t afford to offend either.

　　William Harris was desperately giving Ryan Miller looks, trying to get him to give George Bennett a way out. After all, a powerful outsider can’t beat a local tyrant—George Bennett’s father had some shady connections, and in a place like this, they probably couldn’t really go up against George Bennett.

　　But Ryan Miller completely ignored the hint.

　　He didn’t go out of his way to provoke George Bennett, but that didn’t mean he was afraid. In just those few minutes, he’d already figured it out—this guy kept getting in his way, sooner or later they’d have to fall out.

　　So why not now?

　　Give George Bennett a way out? He hadn’t kicked this idiot out himself—already counted as being merciful and saintly.

　　“It is a bit crowded. If you’ve got your own seat, why are you so eager to take someone else’s?” Matthew Clark suddenly spoke up, his tone calm. “Or are you short on money for drinks?”