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Andrew quickly set the skewers down and grinned, eager to impress. “Yvette, you want a drink? You should’ve told me earlier! Red wine, white wine, or beer? What do you prefer? Or better yet, why not all three?”
Charles didn’t protest. In fact, he thought to himself, I haven’t had a drink with Yvette in years. It’d be nice to share one now. And if memory serves, she could probably drink three times as much as me…
But Yvette remained cool and collected, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied the two men before her. For safety’s sake, she felt it necessary to ask a crucial question before anything else. Her voice, as calm as ever, broke the silence. “Are you two good at taking a beating? How’s your recovery ability?”
Andrew, assuming she was joking to lighten the mood, puffed his chest out with confidence. “Don’t worry, Yvette. I’m as tough as they come.”
Yvette then shifted her gaze to Charles. “And you?”
Charles, thinking it was just casual talk, gave a serious nod. “Yve, I’ve been practicing. I won’t let you down.”
She studied both of them for a long moment, then seemed satisfied. Her gaze softened, and she seemed to believe there wouldn’t be a problem.
However, Jeremiah, who had been quiet until now, tensed slightly. A flicker of unease passed across his face. Yvette really shouldn’t drink, he thought. Her drunken state… it’s terrifying.
After a brief pause, Jeremiah decided it was time to intervene. Maybe it was out of kindness, or perhaps out of some self-preservation instinct. As Andrew moved to fetch the alcohol, Jeremiah spoke in a serious tone, “Andrew, if I remember correctly, we’re out of wine. Let’s wrap things up for tonight.” His eyes shot Andrew a pointed look, signaling him to drop the idea.
Andrew immediately caught the signal. After all, he and Jeremiah had been friends for years—he knew exactly what his friend was thinking. My mission today is to get Yvette drunk, so Jeremiah can finally kiss and hold her!
With this realization in mind, Andrew shot Jeremiah a reassuring grin before confidently heading off to retrieve the drinks.
Charles, however, didn’t miss the exchange between the two men. Unlike Andrew, he saw through Jeremiah’s subtle hints with ease. Wait, Jeremiah doesn’t want Yvette to drink? That’s surprisingly conservative of him…
Charles smirked, his curiosity piqued. He turned to Jeremiah with a teasing look. “Mr. Chavez, don’t worry. We’ll just have a little—definitely won’t overdo it.”
Jeremiah’s gaze, unreadable as ever, met Charles’s with a subtle but intense focus. It’s fine. People bring their own troubles upon themselves, he thought, but kept his expression neutral.
“Just make sure you don’t regret it,” Jeremiah said cryptically, his voice calm but filled with an underlying warning.
Charles frowned, trying to make sense of his words. How could drinking a little wine lead to regret?
Meanwhile, Yvette had taken another bite of her beef skewer, relaxing further into her chair as she waited for Andrew’s return.
A few moments later, Andrew appeared with bottles in hand—red wine, white wine, and beer. But just as he reached the table, Samantha walked in from the courtyard.
Samantha had been napping since returning home the night before and had only woken up in the afternoon. After calling Andrew and learning about the barbecue, and the fact that Yvette was there, she couldn’t resist joining in on the fun.
Unlike her usual glamorous self, Samantha had kept it simple today—just a monochrome dress with a light touch-up. After all, no amount of makeup could outshine Yvette’s natural beauty.
As she walked into the scene, her eyes immediately landed on Andrew holding the drinks. Panic surged within her. Oh no! With Yvette here, this is practically suicide!
In the blink of an eye, her mind flashed back to the club incident from that day. Without thinking, she rushed toward Andrew and snatched the bottles from his hands.
The others weren’t surprised to see her; they knew she was coming. However, Charles, who had been observing quietly until now, narrowed his eyes at her. She looks familiar… where have I seen her before?
Andrew, taken completely off guard, stammered, “Samantha, what are you doing? Why are you taking my wine? It’s for Yvette.”
Samantha’s face remained unreadable as she steadied herself, then smacked the back of Andrew’s head. “You idiot, I’m saving your life! You absolutely cannot drink this.”
Andrew was stunned. Has Samantha lost her mind? Why can’t we drink? Does she have something against Yvette? That doesn’t make sense… Didn’t she praise Yvette when they first met?
Samantha, now holding the bottles, quickly put a plan into motion. For the safety of everyone here, I’m going to give it my all…
She turned, flashing a bright, almost too perfect smile, and prepared to fake a fall. Time to put my acting skills to the test.
Just as she began to “trip,” a pair of strong hands caught her.
Damn.
She didn’t even need to look—she already knew whose hands they were.
Andrew steadied her, his voice tinged with amusement. “Samantha, what’s wrong with you? How can you trip on flat ground?”
Samantha froze for a moment, then straightened herself up, staring at Andrew’s innocent face. If anyone wants to take this fool off my hands, please do so now.
She forced a big, somewhat strained smile. “Let’s go. Carry the wine carefully, and don’t drop it.”
Andrew shivered slightly at her expression. What’s with that look? He quickly reassured her, “Don’t worry. Not everyone is as clumsy as you. I won’t fall flat on my face like you did.”
As they approached the pavilion, Samantha greeted Yvette first, who was lounging casually in her chair. “Hi, we meet again.”
She then turned to Jeremiah. “Mr. Chavez.”
Finally, she gave a brief nod of acknowledgment to the incredibly handsome man standing next to him. He’s definitely not from our usual circle.
Yvette looked up, her gaze cool and indifferent. “Hi.”
Samantha carefully studied her expression. Rebellious, yet enchanting. Cool, but undeniably captivating.
But there was something more. Yvette already knows exactly what I’m up to, Samantha realized. That thought made her feel a twinge of guilt.
Andrew set the wine bottles down on the table with a grin. He sidled up next to Jeremiah, clearly in high spirits. “Jeremiah, I got you covered. All top-shelf stuff.”
Jeremiah, his hands in his pockets, remained stoic. He turned slightly, raising an eyebrow. “You really get me, huh? That’s nice. Just hope you’re ready for whatever comes next.”
He smiled faintly—a smile eerily similar to Samantha’s.
Andrew flinched slightly. Why is Mr. Chavez smiling at me like that? That’s one of the top ten unsolved mysteries of the world!
Meanwhile, Charles, still observing, glanced at Samantha again.
Her face… he thought. She looks just like that woman.
Charles studied her intently. The woman I met that day wore heavy makeup, but today, she’s barely wearing any. Could they be the same person?
After a moment’s hesitation, Charles finally spoke up.
“Hello,” he said, his voice measured. “Did you visit an underground bar in Southeast Aploth three years ago?”
