Georgina stood still, glancing around but couldn't spot the two people, leaving her confused. She carefully observed the crowd, examining each face closely, making sure not to overlook anyone. Addison's striking looks would easily make her stand out in a crowd. Her distinct aura wouldn't be hidden, even in a chaotic group of people. By reason, it didn't make sense that she would be hard to find. Yet, despite Georgina's thorough search across the venue, Addison was nowhere to be seen. Noticing Georgina standing alone, a passing waiter approached her with a polite smile and offered a glass of wine. "Miss, may I help you with something?" The crystal-clear wine glass rested on a wooden tray, its deep red liquid shimmering enticingly. Georgina felt irritated and had no interest in interacting with anyone. She hadn't planned to accept the drink, but after hesitating for a moment, she took the glass and softly said, "Thanks." "Please enjoy," the waiter replied with a slight bow before stepping away. Georgina held the wine glass but didn't take a sip, merely turning it in her hand absentmindedly. Her instincts told her that Addison couldn't be far and was likely still close by. After all, the scene they caused at the Medical Symposium had drawn a lot of attention. Since she couldn't see her, could it mean that they were hiding somewhere quiet? A sudden spark of insight flashed in her mind as her gaze shifted toward the dimly lit platform where she had first seen Addison. Narrowing her eyes for a clearer look, she could faintly make out two blurry figures, seemingly Lance and Addison. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself for the possibility of witnessing an intimate moment. With that thought, she slowly approached the platform entrance, holding a wine glass in her hand. ...In the dim lighting, Lance kept the same stance, though his emotions had settled significantly. His grip on Addison's wrist had slightly relaxed. Even so, he still held on, as if afraid she might slip away. "I ... " Lance opened his mouth to speak, but with his emotions now steady, he struggled to find the right words. He simply stared at Addison in silence, his eyes shadowed and unreadable in the faint light. Addison couldn't detect the tension in his gaze or grasp the storm of emotions within him. However, she understood that remaining still was the best choice for now. If he didn't act, neither would she. As the saying goes "a wise person adapts to the situation," her earlier struggle had been pointless and might have only fueled his anger. So, she chose to stay calm, careful not to provoke any sudden outburst. If he lost control, her wrist might not escape harm. Addison remained still, holding her original stance as her cold, steady eyes quietly observed him. The two locked eyes for a long time, neither speaking, as the atmosphere grew increasingly still and tense. In this silent standoff, Lance was the first to yield. He quietly withdrew his gaze. Breaking the silence, he suddenly said, "Addison." "Hm?" she responded softly, her bright, clear eyes turning toward him. "Tell that man living with you to leave immediately. I won't allow him to stay," he commanded, his tone calm yet undeniably forceful. The air felt heavier as the scent of alcohol thickened, and the chill in Lance's hand gradually turned into burning heat. That intense warmth, combined with his commanding words, slowly spread from their clasped wrists throughout Addison's body. His penetrating gaze left her feeling cornered, unable to escape."Don't even think about being with another man until I sign the divorce paper." Addison froze, unsure if she had heard him correctly, her breath catching in disbelief. "Are you drunk?" Addison asked without thinking. Otherwise, how could he say something so absurd? He chuckled, a smirk tugging at his lips as if her question was both funny and ironic. "Drunk?" he repeated. He actually wished he were drunk. If he were, it would justify the unexplainable frustration brewing inside him. If he were, he could fool himself into believing that his anger wasn't caused by Addison but by the alcohol. He could convince himself that her actions had no impact on him at all. But he wasn't drunk. He was fully aware that he wasn't intoxicated, not even slightly tipsy, he was completely sober. "You got it?" he asked. Addison stayed quiet, avoiding his gaze. Noticing her silence, he scoffed and tightened his grip once more. Their fingers brushed, and the heat from his hand felt even more intense. The sharp scent of alcohol lingered in the air, overwhelming Addison's nose. Because Lance wasn't drunk, it had to be her who had drunk too much. Addison couldn't figure out whether she was tipsy or not, but she could definitely feel the effects of the four glasses of wine hitting her. Her expression was blank, and she tried to convince herself that she must be drunk. Otherwise, how could she have heard Lance say such bewildering things? "You got it?" The man, noticing Addison didn't reply, asked again with patience.Addison stubbornly shook her head, defying him. "I don't get it." The moment she said that, she felt the grip on her wrist grows slightly tighter. It seemed like a warning. Addison brushed it off and kept speaking, asking, "Why should I?" He didn't love her, and she didn't love him either. So why wouldn't he sign the divorce paper? And why couldn't she move on with another man? Lance sneered, "Why? "Because the divorce agreement is in my hands. "Because you're my legal wife. If I don't sign, you'll still hold the title of Mrs. Johnston." Addison's heart raced for a moment. She asked, "Are you doing this on purpose?" No wonder, after she signed the divorce paper, she immediately handed it over to Lance. But after waiting for a long time, she still hadn't seen any trace of the divorce paper. "Are you purposely refusing to sign?" Her questioning eyes met Lance's raised eyebrow, and he stayed quiet. His silence spoke volumes. A surge of anger suddenly flared up in her chest. She had assumed that Marilyn was the one holding onto the divorce papers. She knew Marilyn's attitude. When it came to their divorce, she was a hundred percent unwilling for them to divorce. So she thought Marilyn had kept the papers from Lance. But in the end, Lance himself refused to sign. "Since you wrote the divorce agreement and gave it to me, what does it mean now that you're not signing? Are you just messing with me?" Her voice trembled with fury. "Isn't playing with people fun?" Lance noticed Addison standing before him, her neck rigid, her eyes locked on him with clear anger.Am I feeling a bit pleased? The frustration that had been building inside him just moments ago seemed to vanish. A mischievous thought crossed his mind, and his voice dropped. "Yeah, it really is fun." "Fun?" Addison's anger only grew as she saw how casually he admitted it. She was about to lose her temper. Taking a deep breath, she changed her tone. "If we're not getting a divorce, what about your Virginia? "I don't care whether I get a divorce or not, but Virginia can't wait." Lance certainly wanted to give Virginia a proper status. He couldn't let her stay by his side without a name or position. These words struck a sensitive spot for Lance, and he was bound to feel anxious. But his response was unexpected—calm and unhurried. "Virginia isn't in a hurry." Not in a hurry? What a great "not in a hurry." Virginia was desperate, wishing she could kill me and immediately take the position of Mrs. Johnston. The man's voice remained calm and unhurried as he slowly added, "Before I marry Virginia, don't even think about escaping from me."