His Perfect Wife Strikes Back

181 The Secret Between Mia and Her Brother

I sat in the driver's seat and peered through the window as Frade and the bartender dragged the intoxicated Iverson out of the pub with his head hung low. On their way to the car, Iverson even sprayed vomit on Frade's suit.

Frade and the bartender worked together to put Iverson on the back seat, and he couldn't help complaining, "This guy is really heavy."

I scowled as I saw the intoxicated man. He smelled like alcohol, which made the air in the car disgusting. I'm beginning to regret my involvement. Mickle should be the one to clean up this mess.

"Wait, there's his wheelchair," the bartender says, hurrying back to the bar. Soon, he's carrying Iverson's wheelchair and putting it in the trunk of the car.

"Can we go now?" I asked.

"Where?" Frade asked, fastening his seat belt. "Should we send him back to Mickle's estate?"Just as I was about to say yes, Iverson yelled at us from the backseat.

"I'm not going back to that old man's house. I'm not going back!"

"Shut up!" I scolded him. "We can only send you back."

"No, I won't!" Iverson shouted. "I'll die before I see that old bastard."

As he spoke, he opened the door of the backseat and fell to the side of the road. I got out of the car to help him, but he pushed my hand away.

"Go away and leave me alone!"

"Iverson, are you crazy?"

"Go away!" He said, sitting on the floor and waving at me as if driving me away.

At this time, the passers-by stopped to look at us curiously. In order to prevent passers-by from taking pictures of the scene and putting it on the internet, I had to keep my head down, turn my back on the passer-by, and cover Iverson's face with my body.

"Hey, Iverson, don't mess around here," Frade said as he reached the curb. He crouched down and said to Iverson, "We're not taking you back to the manor. How about you going to my hotel?"

"Good!" Iverson said, tilting his head at me. "Look, your man is much nicer than you."

I glared at him, and then Frade put him in the car. To prevent him from opening the car door again, Frade immediately locks the door behind him.

"Where are we taking him?" I asked.

"To my hotel." Frade started the car. "We'll take him back to the manor when he wakes up ."Helplessly, I sighed, unable to fathom how this cowardly man could possibly be my older brother.

Frade contacted two security officers shortly after we got to the Silver Yacht Hotel to help get Iverson out of the car. Iverson vomited in the car once more on the way in, and Frade had to clean it up.