Samuel Harris pushed the woman sitting on his lap away, spread his legs, and grinned lewdly, "How about this, I called her over just to let off some steam anyway, why don't you use your mouth to get me off? Then we can call it even, how about that?"

At the private room door.

Blake Miller blocked the door, clearly annoyed: "I'm playing with the kid, what are you butting in for? Get lost, get lost, don't ruin my fun."

The Manager pleaded miserably, "Don't, something's going to happen, he's someone brought over by The Young Master Foster, something's going to happen."

Blake Miller: "What? Who brought him?"

The Manager was muttering about trouble when, the next second, the sound of a bottle smashing came from inside the room.

Bang! As loud as thunder!

Everyone was scared stiff.

No one knew when a young man had entered the private room.

Without a word, he grabbed a beer bottle from the table, swung his hand, and smashed it straight at Samuel Harris's head.

Samuel Harris's pupils shrank, and he barely dodged, but the shards from the bottle hitting the wall still left his face covered in blood.

He touched the blood on his face, instantly went berserk, and roared hoarsely, "Who! Who let him in!"

Ethan Brooks was stunned too. Just a second ago, he was surrounded by darkness, insulted words and disgusting stares tormenting his nerves and dignity bit by bit.

The next second, someone suddenly appeared and shattered this nightmare. He had drunk so much that his stomach felt like it was being cut with knives, and his usually cold eyes now looked a bit dazed as he silently watched the person beside him.

William Carter stepped out from the darkness, so angry his liver hurt, looked at Samuel Harris, and sneered, "Weren't you just trying to let off steam? Let me help you."

A truly hardcore way to let off steam.

Chapter 5: Delivering Medicine

In the early chapters of "Gentle Control," there were many scenes like this: the protagonist being harassed by greasy middle-aged men in a club's private room. And when the three crazy love interests encountered such situations, they would usually watch and wait until Ethan Brooks couldn't take it anymore, then step out with a smile and say, "Beg me, and I'll take you away." Then, a dangerous CEO-style hunt would begin.

When William Carter read this part, he was so angry he almost ground his teeth to dust.

What kind of stupid demand is "beg me and I'll take you away"?

Ethan Brooks was truly pitiful, being humiliated and then threatened on top of it.

If you see injustice, shouldn't you just shout and start fighting? William Carter wasn't afraid of Samuel Harris at all. As the third young master of the Song family in City A, in a melodramatic rich family novel like this, he could do whatever he wanted.

William Carter picked up another beer bottle and walked forward.

"Still got any steam left?"

Samuel Harris looked at him like he was crazy, furious: "Where are my people? Where are they? You bunch of useless idiots! Hurry up! What are you afraid of, a little brat for?!" He kicked the table and roared, "Grab him for me! I'm going to smash his head open with a beer bottle tonight!"

The group, who had been scared stiff, finally snapped out of it, scrambled up from the sofa, and rushed to grab William Carter.

Ethan Brooks had drunk so much that he was barely holding it together, already feeling dizzy, but forced himself to stay calm. He stepped forward and grabbed William Carter's hand, "You should go."

William Carter was still fuming, waiting for these people to come up so he could hit them, when suddenly his hand was grabbed.

Ethan Brooks's hand was very cold, with a faint scent of alcohol on him, but it was a clean, crisp kind of smell.

William Carter turned his head.

Ethan Brooks was a bit taller than him.

What he saw was Ethan Brooks's jaw and tightly pressed thin lips.

William Carter couldn't help but feel sorry for this unlucky kid, and said calmly, "It's fine, don't worry about me."

Samuel Harris stood up angrily, grinding his teeth, "Still trying to leave?! Neither of you are going anywhere! You two cheap whores, I'm going to kill you both tonight!"

At that moment, a commotion erupted outside room 305. Blake Miller was blocking the door, not letting The Manager in, when he suddenly felt his body lurch forward and crashed right into the table.

Bang!

The door to 305 was kicked open. Standing outside was Charles Foster, his face dark as thunder.

Charles Foster was so furious he wanted to kill that bastard, and spat out each word with icy venom: "Samuel Harris! You fucking dare lay a hand on my little brother?!"

Several staff members followed behind the young master of Jing City, almost in tears.

Everyone in the private room was stunned, because no one in Jing City was unfamiliar with Charles Foster's face. The young master who ran rampant in the capital—no one dared mess with him.

Samuel Harris was stunned too: "Meng... Meng... Meng Guang?"

Charles Foster kicked the fallen Blake Miller aside, strode in, and the moment he saw William Carter holding a beer bottle, his eyes turned red.

He crossed the room in two strides and punched Samuel Harris to the ground, pinning him on the sofa and beating him.

Charles Foster roared, "You fucking... do you know my little brother can't drink!"

He beat him mercilessly, "You actually dared force him to drink? Damn you, if I don't beat you to death today, my surname isn't Meng!"

Samuel Harris: "???"

Samuel Harris's panic turned to rage, and he exploded, "Who the fuck forced him to drink? He was the one who smashed a bottle over my head first!"

But Charles Foster was already blinded by rage.

Punches and kicks rained down, he didn't even bother to listen.

"You actually dared force him to drink?!"

"!!!"

Samuel Harris was about to die of anger.

Everyone in the private room stood frozen, staring at the scene before them, dumbfounded, and no one dared go near William Carter.

The Manager had no idea what kind of bad karma he was suffering, sweating anxiously.