47. TOO DRUNK TO BOTHER

Callan’s POV

SOME PEOPLE gasped at what they had witnessed. With a tightened jaw and palms almost balding into firsts, I wanted to land an uppercut to the old man’s face so his smirk would vanish.

My men followed me inside this store and saw what I had just done.

I pushed the man away. “Call the police! This man’s preying on drunk women!” I shouted.

The man’s eyes widened in shock and looked at the surroundings. His blackened lips moved and his gaze was agitated, as if looking for a way to escape.

“What’s happening?” Esme’s words were soft, confused about what just happened. I held her shoulder when he was about to stand up.

“It’s alright. I’ll handle this.”

“The man helped me… he ordered me drinks after I bought dinner. He even asked if I wanted ice cream for dessert.”

My forehead formed a line and looked at Esmé very carefully. “No, you paid for your food and drinks with my card. You have it with you remember?”

Esmé pointed at the man and then mumbled. “He borrowed it earlier. He s