Clayton watched helplessly as Lance was helped inside. His first instinct was to leave immediately. He didn't dare stay at the Johnston Residence for even a second longer. Bending slightly, he attempted to slip away, but before he could take two steps, he felt the cold barrel of a gun press harder against his waist. "Where do you think you're going? Do you think you can just leave after what you've done? You haven't explained yourself yet." "I ... " "Move!" Forced forward, Clayton had no choice but to follow the bodyguards all the way to the entrance of the Johnston Residence. Lana helped Lance into the living room. The moment they stepped through the door, Marilyn hurried over. "What happened? How did he end up like this?" As she approached, the strong scent of alcohol hit her nose. Marilyn instinctively waved a hand in front of her face, frowning. "He drank this much? He can't even keep his eyes open?"A bodyguard behind her immediately responded, "Mrs. Marilyn, this man brought Mr. Johnston back! "Move forward!" Clayton was pushed forward once again, coming face-to-face with Marilyn. She barely spared him a glance, uninterested in him—her full attention was on her son. "Hurry, hurry! Get Lance upstairs." She pinched her nose, visibly displeased. Two maids stepped up and carefully took Lance from the bodyguards, supporting him as they led him up the stairs. Two servants carrying fresh towels trailed closely behind them, followed by two male servants holding bowls of warm broth to sober him up. Clayton glanced upward and saw three or four more servants waiting on the second floor, ready to assist. He swallowed hard. SothisistheJohnstons? No matter how you look at it, this scene looks like an emperor's treatment. At least ten servants were within his line of sight, all catering to Lance. The sheer luxury was overwhelming. Marilyn casually grabbed a passing servant and glanced at the broth on his tray. She shook her head. "This won't do. It's not effective enough." She turned to Lana. "Lana, go to the medicinal herb room and prepare a proper broth for Lance. The one they made is too basic. "Use the herbs we just had delivered from Kreshill." "Understood, Mrs. Marilyn. I'll prepare it right away." Lana nodded. Marilyn only withdrew her gaze once Lance disappeared upstairs. "Drinking like this, what a disgrace." Now that Lance was taken care of, a nearby bodyguard straightened up and asked sternly, "Mrs. Marilyn, what should we do with this man?" "This man?" Marilyn finally looked at Clayton properly. He immediately lowered his head. "Mrs. Marilyn, I wasn't the one drinking with Mr. Johnston. Please don't blame me." "Nonsense! If it wasn't you, then who was it?" The bodyguard's sharp question made Clayton flinch in fear again. Marilyn noticed his obvious nervousness and waved a hand to dismiss the bodyguard. "Don't scare him. He's timid. You're not needed here anymore—go." "But, Mrs. Marilyn—" "I said, go." With no other choice, the bodyguard shot Clayton a sharp glare before leaving. "Behave yourself." Marilyn turned back to Clayton. "Who was Lance drinking with tonight?" "With ... with a woman." "A woman?" Hearing this particular detail, Marilyn's expression changed instantly. Her first thought went straight to Virginia. After all, besides her, there were no other women around Lance.