the two-faced Adopted Girl Who Melted CEO's Ice-Cold Heart

Chapter 348: The man is like an elegant American jaguar, teasing an oblivious little pet

Ignatius Leclair came back home past midnight.

The old man had been drinking in the evening, and once drunk, the little old fellow turned into a complete troublemaker. Hugging the lamppost at the doorway, he refused to let go, calling everyone his grandson, crying one moment and laughing the next, making an absolute scene.

Ignatius rarely showed a dark expression, but coaxed and cajoled the old man back home.

By the time the old man was settled, it was already close to one o’clock.

The man himself had a little to drink as well and carried a faint smell of alcohol. When he entered the bedroom, the nightlight was on, its soft blue glow illuminating the petite woman lying on the large black bed.

He leaned down to kiss her.

Delphine woke up in pain, her collarbone bitten hard. She cried out sharply, but her voice was swallowed entirely. The scent of pine mixed with alcohol permeated the air.

She whimpered softly. Ignatius traced the shape of her alluring lips carefully and said coldly, "Why are you crying?"

At the scent of alcohol, Delphine immediately knew he’d been drinking. In the dead of night, during a cold winter night that begged for peaceful sleep, not only had she been bitten, but she was also being treated with cold, drunken words. Anger flared in her instantly. She shoved him away hard, saying coldly, "Get out."

Ignatius had been half-kneeling by the bedside. Caught off guard by her push, he lost his balance and stumbled backward. His expression darkened as he stretched out a long arm and pulled her down with him.

Both of them ended up falling onto the carpet with muffled grunts.

Ignatius had never been kicked off a bed by a woman before, and given the irritation from the afternoon, he let out a cold chuckle and pressed her down directly onto the carpet.

Delphine’s arms and legs were pinned down by him. Dazed from the fall, she tried to bite him in frustration. Despite his slender frame, the muscles under his clothes were firm and well-defined. Her teeth hurt from the effort.

"Heh." Surrounded by the warmth of the room and the lingering scent of alcohol, Ignatius smirked faintly. He kissed her inch by inch, his voice deep and husky as he murmured, "Little Delphine, is it that I haven’t satisfied you enough in bed that you’ve grown this bold?"

That afternoon, he had stood by the window. Although there was some distance, he had still caught fragments of what had been said: "The man you care about doesn’t matter to me. If you like Ignatius Leclair, you can take him and use him however you please."

So indifferent, so casual, as though he were some stray cat or dog to be shrugged off without a thought.

With every word he spoke, his actions grew more dangerous, laced with alcohol and simmering anger.

What nonsense! Delphine was speechless and had no idea what he was even talking about. She ignored him entirely, shoving him away with effort.

"Don’t want me? Then who do you want? Reginald Yeager or that bandit leader?"

Seeing her struggle, Ignatius’s phoenix eyes darkened, becoming as deep as ink. He forced her into a corner of the bed, trapping her against the edge. His handsome face hidden partially in the shadows, he resembled an elegant predator—like an America Land leopard slowly teasing an oblivious little prey—as he said dangerously, "Are their skills in bed better than mine?"

Delphine’s face turned slightly pale. A drunken man was completely unreasonable. Recognizing how dangerous he currently was, she gave up on biting him and scrambled to get up, using both hands and feet. But before she could steady herself to her feet, his casually outstretched long leg tripped her, and she fell straight back into his scorching embrace.

"Mmm~~" Delphine’s expression shifted slightly. Her voice was once again swallowed entirely, her eyes widening in shock, filled with the bitterness of someone whose luck had truly run out.

No wonder Ignatius rarely drank. If he got drunk every day and became this unruly, pouncing on women indiscriminately, the old man’s great-grandchildren could probably already start running errands by now.