Lance lowered his gaze, his expression complex as he stared at the woman, waiting for an answer. Addison remained expressionless. "I really don't have it." Clearly, no matter what question Lance asked, her answer was always the same. She didn't have it. As soon as the words left her lips, Lance's face darkened visibly, and a cold, familiar aura began to radiate from him. It was as if the cold, ruthless version of Lance had returned. Addison noticed that Lance had frozen in place, showing no sign of leaving. She raised an eyebrow in response. "If Mr. Johnston is so fond of this villa," she said casually, "maybe you should consider buying it. "I don't like to take what isn't mine, but if you're willing to buy it, I could offer you a discount," she added nonchalantly. In reality, Addison had planned to offer the villa to Lance for free, since money wasn't a concern for her. However, after a moment of thought, she realized that giving it away would just benefit Virginia unnecessarily. She wasn't about to do that. "As long as you pay for it, I'll transfer ownership to you immediately," she continued, her tone almost detached. "I'll pack up and leave overnight; how does that sound?" Her words were calm but carried a subtle layer of sarcasm. Given the villa's value in the region, it wasn't something that his family could afford. Even with her discount, they would have to think long and hard before committing to the purchase. Moreover, Lance didn't actually care for the villa. He caught on to the meaning behind Addison's words. "How about it? I'm serious about giving you the house, so you won't have to keep running over here every time you're bored with Virginia." Lance's eyelids twitched. "When has Virginia been here?""You don't know?" Addison sounded slightly surprised. "She's been here as often as you have." She rubbed her chin thoughtfully, as if pondering. "Based on the frequency of Virginia's visits, it seems she really likes this place. If you buy it, I'm sure your first love will be thrilled." "Addison Daves!" For some reason, hearing her mention first love made Lance feel inexplicably uncomfortable. His voice dropped as he growled her name, startling Addison. She was caught off guard, unsure of how to continue her sentence. "Why were you yelling my name?" Addison patted her chest, trying to calm herself. "If you don't want to buy it, you don't have to. There's no need to get so upset." Lance's expression remained dark. "However, let me make it clear," Addison added seriously. "I've already provided you with a solution. You chose not to take it, so please don't bother me again. If you do, I'll call the cops." She meant business. Lance saw the sincerity in her eyes, and after a moment, he clenched his teeth and muttered, "Fine." "Then Mr. Johnston, please leave," Addison said, satisfied. "I won't see you out." Addison was clearly satisfied with his answer. "You better keep your word." She clapped her hands and turned, walking back to her study without giving him another glance. Lance's eyes stayed fixed on her retreating figure, his gaze dark and brooding. Rosa, who had been observing the exchange, saw Addison leave, but Lance still stood frozen, showing no sign of leaving. She couldn't help but ask, "Mr. Johnston, shouldn't you be leaving now?" The maid had inadvertently forgotten to close the door, which had allowed Lance to enter the villa, making things awkward for her employer. If he didn't leave soon, she would really be in trouble. This young man was handsome and seemed to have money, but it was starting to feel a bit strange that he was lingering in someone else's house.With that thought in mind, Rosa's gaze toward Lance grew more pointed. Lance, noticing how Rosa was looking at him, felt his temper flare. Since when had he become the subject of a maid's amusement? He instinctively shot her a glare but stopped mid-action. After all, this was Addison's house, and Rosa was her servant. He had no right to take his anger out on her. "Fine," he muttered, grabbing his coat. "I'm leaving." Rosa was visibly relieved when she heard he was willing to leave, her smile returning as she relaxed a little. "Please, right this way." Lance followed Rosa toward the door. Just as he was about to step outside, something on the ground caught his eye. His pupils contracted in shock. It was a pair of men's slippers. Lance stood frozen, disbelieving. He took a few steps forward, making sure he wasn't seeing things. He wasn't mistaken—it really was a pair of men's slippers. Addison is living with another man?! The thought hit him like a ton of bricks. His anger surged. Addison had brought another man into her home before they had even signed the divorce papers? How bold. She clearly didn't consider him at all. As long as the divorce papers weren't signed, he was still her husband, her nominal partner, and she was the daughter-in-law of the Johnstons. How could she has done this to him? Lance's head felt like it was on fire. He felt as if he had been betrayed. Rosa, noticing that Lance had stopped and was staring intently at the slippers, hesitantly asked, "Mr. Johnston, is something wrong? Is there a problem with the slippers?"Lance's fury overwhelmed him, and he didn't even hear her. All he could see were those slippers. "Damn you, Addison!" He muttered under his breath, his fists clenching tightly. After a brief pause, he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. It could be a misunderstanding. Maybe Addison had bought the slippers for guests or friends visiting the villa. Trying to convince himself, Lance's mood relaxed a bit. He forced his stiff legs to move forward again. But the next thing he saw completely shattered any hope of self-deception. Two pairs of men's shoes, both clearly large, indicated their owners were tall. They were neatly placed on the shoe rack—there was no way these could have been meant for guests. Besides, Addison was an orphan. Those shoes couldn't possibly belong to her family. Seeing those shoes, Lance's eyes turned red, filled with a cold rage. Rosa, sensing something was off with the man, felt a chill down her spine. She asked timidly, "Mr. Johnston, is something wrong?" Lance's anger was all-consuming, and he didn't respond. Rosa, not getting an answer, glanced in the direction Lance was staring. The shoes were placed neatly on the top shelf of the rack, two pairs of men's leather shoes. There was nothing wrong with the placement. "Is there a problem with the shoes?" she asked, hesitant. Could it be she'd placed them wrong? Or the shoe rack wasn't positioned correctly? She hadn't realized that wealthy people had such high standards for shoe racks. Though she had worked for many wealthy families before, Rosa realized there was still so much she didn't know. Maybe, she thought, she still had a lot to learn about the finer details of luxury living—like where to put shoes. Lance didn't respond. Instead, he asked a question that seemed completely unrelated."Does Addison live here by herself?" Rosa, unsure why he was asking this, answered anyway, shaking her head. "No, she doesn't." This is great. Lance's fist clenched even tighter, and his anger surged again, veins throbbing on his forehead.