Addison stood still, leaning slightly, looking casual and cool. She took a slow sip of wine, her eyes half-narrowed as the rich aroma filled her mouth. In the distance, Virginia and Georgina's hurried figures retreated further and further away. Addison idly swirled her glass, but her eyes were always looking at the two of them meaningfully until they were completely out of sight. Just as she lowered her eyes and reached to set down her glass, a man suddenly walked up to her. Immediately, a clear, slightly mellow male voice sounded. "Miss, are you here alone?" Addison's hand, still holding the wine glass, paused mid-motion. She lifted her gaze lightly, looking toward the source of the voice. Her eyes met a pair of deep, strikingly dark ones. His eyelids were narrow and long, his nose sharp and well-defined—a look with a touch of Solvenian charm. The man wasn't wearing a suit, or perhaps he had left the jacket somewhere. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, his tie neatly tied, giving him a very refined appearance. "Do you need something?" Addison raised an eyebrow, her tone indifferent. She didn't know this man. Although she admitted he was handsome and appeared well-mannered, she had no interest in engaging in conversation. The man, unfazed by her cold response, smiled politely. He pointed at the glass of wine in Addison's hand and spoke slowly, "The wine you're holding is called Dom. Romanee Conti 1997. It has a very unique flavor." Addison raised an eyebrow and glanced at the red wine in her glass. The vibrant liquid swirled gently in the clear crystal, catching the light and reflecting a delicate glow. She wasn't knowledgeable about wine; she just found the taste good. As for the flavor ... It was indeed unique. Addison gave the man a polite nod, acknowledging his explanation with a brief word of thanks. Then, she turned her head away, no longer looking at him, her aloofness unmistakable. Anyone perceptive enough could easily sense her reluctance to engage further. However, the man didn't seem to catch on to her meaning. Not only did he stay, but he continued speaking. "You seem to really enjoy this wine." From the moment Addison walked in, she had caught his eye. A woman with such striking beauty. He had never seen anyone quite like her. Although Kreshill was full of beautiful women, he had never seen anyone as beautiful and fragile as the woman in front of him. For some reason, he felt a sense of fragility about her the moment he saw her. Every frown and every subtle movement seemed to carry some sorrow, as if, although she wasn't crying, she had gone through something truly heartbreaking. He couldn't help but think, what kind of painful experience could someone so beautiful have gone through? Who could bear to let her endure such suffering? Addison raised her eyes to look at him again. "How do you know?" The man teased, "I could tell from the way you looked at this glass of wine." But that wasn't really the case. From the moment Addison appeared, he couldn't keep his eyes off her. He couldn't help but let his gaze follow her, watching as she stood alone in the corner, quietly finishing two glasses of wine. The one in her hand now was her third. Addison chuckled softly. "You could tell that? Impressive." "Of course," the man replied, smiling as well when he saw her smile. "One's love for wine is something that can't be hidden," he said, his voice deep and steady. "Is that so?" Addison's lips curved into a faint smirk. Her slightly tipsy eyes held a cool aloofness, yet there was a subtle allure within them. The man's ears flushed red under the weight of her smile, a hint of panic flickering in his eyes. Seeing his flustered reaction, Addison's smile grew even brighter. With a lazy, unhurried stride, she began to approach him, it was as if each step was stepping on his heart. She drew close, tilting her head slightly, her warm breath brushing against his ear. She could feel the tension radiating from him now. "A man can't hide his love for a woman." His tone was drawn out, like a lazy cat looking at its prey.This sentence was quite meaningful. Hearing the man said that, Addison realized his intention. He wasn't talking about the wine; he was talking about her. Such a cliché pickup line. During her time abroad, she had encountered countless attempts at small talk and flirting. Although this man was undeniably handsome, his approach lacked originality, there wasn't a shred of creativity in it. "I ... " He stared into those captivating eyes, swallowing nervously as if his soul had already left his body. Looking at the man's increasingly confused eyes, Addison seemed to lose interest and the smile on her face gradually faded. Too lazy to bother with him. What a waste of time. Without hesitation, Addison stepped away from him, her movements swift and decisive. She picked up her glass of wine and turned to leave. Like a passing breeze, she was gone in an instant. Ben stood there alone, the warmth of the woman's breath still lingering in his ears, but her figure was already gone from his sight. It felt like a fleeting dream. ... To avoid more men with poor pick-up lines trying to approach her, Addison decided to move away. Besides, after nearly three glasses of wine, her head was starting to feel a bit light. The air quality in the room was stuffy and there was no ventilation. She grabbed another glass of wine and made her way to the large terrace on the second floor. The terrace was spacious, surrounded by lush greenery. It was peaceful and dimly lit, with only a faint glow of light.Addison walked into the moonlight, finding the area completely empty—no one else in sight. It was completely different from the noisy atmosphere inside. Feeling satisfied, she reached the edge of the platform, leaning slightly against the railing. The night was chilling, the moonlight casting a soft, pale glow on the walls, creating a beautiful, serene scene. The view was stunning, yet Addison's mood ... Was anything but good. The reason was simple: standing in front of her, against this tranquil backdrop, was Lance. He was dressed in all black, blending seamlessly into the dark night, so much so that she hadn't noticed him at first. The unexpected guest in front of her made Addison furrow her brow, irritated. He was even more annoying than the man from earlier. Lance noticed the change in her expression, stepped closer, and snorted. "You don't have to pretend to be upset." This playing hard-to-get tactic has been used so many times; won't Addison get tired of it? Lance figured that Addison must have seen him come here, which was why she followed. After all, why else would she leave the bustling room and come to such a secluded spot? Besides, the place was nearly empty. What would a woman like Addison be doing here alone? Staring at the moon? His sharp, narrowed eyes never left her as he asked, "Hmm?" He came here first, so Addison couldn't deny it. Addison looked at the man before her, his slightly confident expression making her open her mouth, ready to retort. But then she paused. Why bother arguing with Lance? It's not worth it. With his personality, there was no point in trying to reason with him.So, Addison simply ignored him and redirected her gaze back to the beautiful view. Seeing her avoid his stare, Lance raised an eyebrow. Not arguing could only mean she was silently agreeing, right? For some reason, seeing Addison choose not to respond stirred a strange sense of satisfaction in Lance. No matter how stubborn she'd been before, it seemed that when it came to him, she couldn't help but follow. A small smile appeared at the corners of his lips. The man took a few steps toward Addison, and an intoxicating aroma of alcohol wafting around her body. "Have you been drinking?" Lance suddenly asked. Addison turned her head, giving him a look that clearly said, "Are you blind? Can't you see?" She was holding such a large wine glass. How could he not notice? Lance frowned instinctively. "I remember you never drank." "Oh? Really?" Addison raised an eyebrow. She took another slow sip from her glass, her tone casual. "Looks like you remembered wrong." "I'm sure I'm not mistaken." Lance's voice was firm, with no trace of doubt. He remembered clearly. Although he hadn't spent much time with Addison and didn't know all her preferences, they had attended many events together. He remembered the way she'd always refused when the servants offered her drinks. There was no way he could be wrong about that. Addison smiled, her tone still nonchalant. "Does it really matter whether I have a drinking habit or not?" The woman stood at the railing, her hair blowing in the wind, sipping her wine slowly as night fell. She looked very relaxed and free. Does it really matter?Lance's eyes darkened, a shadow crossing over them. He couldn't figure her out. He truly couldn't see through Addison anymore.