Soon, one glass of wine after another went down, and the pile of empty wine jugs on the table grew higher and higher. Even the waiters started to feel a bit alarmed. Two people drinking that much? Are they not worried about alcohol poisoning? However, after Lance had scolded them so harshly earlier that their legs went weak, not a single waiter dared step forward to stop them or even offer a well-meaning warning. They were terrified of accidentally provoking that handsome yet dangerous man again. Still, everyone silently prepared in their minds to dial 911. If something went wrong, they were ready to call an ambulance immediately! The wine continued to be poured glass after glass until Addison stared at the drink in her hand, finally showing a troubled expression—she couldn't bring herself to drink anymore. The truth was, she never had a good tolerance for alcohol. The reason she had managed to go so many rounds with Lance was purely out of stubborn determination.What's more, before their drinking contest even started, Lance had already been quietly drinking a lot by himself. She had essentially joined in halfway through. From the beginning, this drinking contest was unfair to Lance. Addison lifted her gaze to look at him. His face was already starting to flush. Although he didn't seem to be in great shape, he still looked alarmingly sober. Even though she had been resorting to some sneaky tactics, it felt like she still couldn't beat him. How does he have such an insane alcohol tolerance? Why is it that no matter how much he drinks, he just won't get drunk? If he doesn't go down soon, I might get drunk first ... While Addison was staring blankly at the full glass of wine in her hand, Lance's voice came from beside her, deep and raspy. "Do you still want to drink?" "Of course! Why wouldn't I? I'll drink right now," Addison replied with a forced smile. She picked up the glass and brought it to her lips, but halfway there, she hesitated—she couldn't drink anymore. Addison caught a strong whiff of alcohol from the man so close to her, and she couldn't help but wrinkle her brow. If she drank any more, she'd probably end up throwing up right in front of Lance. What on earth had she been thinking just now, coming up with this ridiculous idea to get Lance to spill the truth? Not only did she fail to get anything out of him, but she had also trapped herself in this mess. Wasn't this the classic case of shooting yourself in the foot? Lance watched her with evident amusement, motioning for her to finish the drink in her hand. His demeanor made it clear—if she didn't drink it, he wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon. "What's wrong? Didn't you say you were going to drink?" Lance pushed his glass forward as well. "I've got another one right here. If you think yours isn't enough, feel free to finish mine too." A glint of mischief suddenly appeared in his cold, dark eyes, and the corners of his lips curved upward into a silent, teasing smile."Tonight, I'll sit here with you and drink to your heart's content." As his words fell, Addison stared at Lance's deliberately provoking expression, blinking in stunned disbelief. Wait a second ... Something was wrong. Lance's posture, his gestures, and even his tone—none of it seemed the least bit drunk. He isn't drunk??? Then what was that slightly dazed expression earlier? And his faintly flushed face? Was it all just an act? Could it be that he'd already figured out her intention to deliberately get him drunk ... but chose to play along with her little game? How embarrassing. Addison clenched her hands together, her expression awkward as she hesitantly looked up at him. Tentatively, she asked, "You ... ?" But halfway through the question, she faltered, unable to continue, leaving the words stuck in the air."Me? What's wrong about me?" Lance pointed to himself, signaling for her to finish what she was trying to say.