The Queen They Buried

Chapter 219

The six of them had dinner together. After the meal, Enrique stayed to watch the festive show, while Bowen, having had quite a bit to drink that evening, went upstairs to rest.

Alvin was playing cards with Ethan and Samson. When it comes to intelligence, Alvin certainly inherited the genes of the Turner family-the Dillard brothers were no match for him and ended up losing an entire month’s salary.

However, those two were as stubborn as mules and refused to admit they couldn’t even beat Alvin, who rarely played cards. Aubree didn’t know how to play, so she just watched from the sidelines, thoroughly amused by the scene.

“Aubree,” Enrique said, “Bowen had a little too much to drink tonight. Could you deliver him a hangover remedy? It’s in the

kitchen.”

“Okay,” Aubree replied. Since she was the only one free at the moment, she went to the kitchen, carefully grabbed the drink, and made her way upstairs.

an orphanage, Aubree met the investor, who provided her with vital emotional support during her childhood. However,

seemed lively and friendly, but in reality, she kept her emotions closely guarded. Earning her complete trust and love was no simple

drunk. He stood on the balcony, gazing up at the

While it was evident that he had developed a fondness for Aubree these past few days, there was always a subtle undertone in his words. Bowen’s expression grew

asked, “Bowen, are you asleep? Mr. Turner asked me to bring you some hangover remedy.” She recalled how frightening

The room was dim, leading her to believe he had already gone to bed or was at least lying down. To her surprise, Bowen stood by

appearance as he stood by the window, pale and completely lifeless. He turned sideways to face her, his gaze lowered, and silently observed her. The room was

are you feeling ill from drinking too much? If you stay out in the cold, you’ll feel even worse tomorrow.” Aubree stepped a little closer, carefully holding the drink she had let cool to just the right temperature before bringing it in. Her heart

gaze down at her, his deep, unreadable eyes exuding a dangerously enticing, nearly predatory aura. “I’m fine,” Bowen murmured, his voice low and tinged with alcohol, his breath warm and heavy against

spoke softly, “I’ll leave the drink here for you. Don’t forget to drink it and get some rest, alright.” She lingered for

voice, “Come here.” He rarely used her full name. Lowering his gaze, his eyes were fixed entirely on Aubree, creating a sense of intention, as

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