Chapter 167

Ethan's brows knitted together as he studied Celeste for a long moment, his voice edged with irritation. "That won't be necessary. Just keep your distance."

Tears pooled in Celeste's eyes before spilling over, her expression the picture of pitiful vulnerability as she sat there, trembling.

Evelyn barely suppressed an eye roll at the display.

Did Celeste really have to put on such an exaggerated performance? The way she was carrying on, anyone who didn't know better would think they'd outright bullied her!

"What's with the waterworks, Celeste?" Evelyn snapped, unable to hold back any longer. "Ethan didn't even say anything harsh. Why the dramatic breakdown?"

"I—I just... I feel so terrible. I made a mistake," Celeste hiccuped between sobs, dabbing at her tears with a delicate hand.

Then, she turned those watery eyes toward Ethan, her voice trembling. "I'm truly sorry, Mr. Caldwell. I'm just... emotional. You must think I'm ridiculous."

"Enough. Return to your seat," Ethan bit out, his tone laced with impatience as he waved her off dismissively.

"Come on, Celeste," Lila interjected smoothly, taking Celeste's arm to guide her away. "Don't worry. Mr. Caldwell isn't the type to hold grudges."

Meanwhile, Cassandra and Julian exchanged a look of pure disbelief at Celeste's theatrics. It was painfully obvious what she was trying to pull—absurd didn't even begin to cover it.

Evelyn had been curious about Celeste's intentions, but the girl's next move made everything crystal clear.

It didn't take long before Celeste was "drunk"—or at least, pretending to be.

Flushed cheeks, unsteady steps, and a giggly demeanor—she played the part perfectly.

At first, she simply danced around the room, belting out off-key lyrics. Harmless enough, if obnoxious.

But then, she zeroed in on Ethan.

With a tipsy grin, she swayed toward him, her voice dripping with faux innocence. "Hey there, handsome. You look... familiar. Let me get a better look at you."

Before anyone could react, she reached out to touch his face.

Ethan caught her wrist mid-air, his grip firm.

Celeste yanked her hand back with an exaggerated wince. "Ouch! That hurt! You're so mean!" She pouted, thrusting her hand toward him again. "Now you have to kiss it better!"

"That's enough, Celeste!" Evelyn snapped, her patience wearing thin.

By now, only a blind fool wouldn't see Celeste's blatant interest in Ethan.

The irony? Evelyn distinctly remembered Victoria once boasting that Celeste could outdrink anyone in their family.

Yet tonight, after barely two sips, Celeste was suddenly "wasted"?

Please.

This was nothing but a calculated act—a pathetic attempt to get close to Ethan under the guise of drunkenness.

Ignoring Evelyn completely, Celeste batted her lashes at Ethan. "Why so quiet? Am I too far? Let me fix that."

She took an unsteady step forward—