Andrew immediately put down his skewers and agreed. "Yvette, you want a drink? You should have said! Red wine, white wine, or beer? Which do you prefer? Or how about all three?"

Charles didn't mind at all. He thought, I haven't had a drink with Yvette in years, and it would be nice now! I'm actually quite looking forward to it. Yvette could probably drink three times as much as me!

Yvette calmly glanced at them and, for safety's sake, decided to assess their physical condition. Her voice, cool as ever, slowly asked, "Are you two good at taking a beating? How's your recovery ability?"

Andrew, mistaking Yvette's question for a joke, confidently patted his chest. "Don't worry, Yvette. I'm tough." Yvette then turned to Charles, "And you?" Charles, assuming casual inquiry, replied earnestly, "Yve, I haven't neglected your teachings. I've been practicing and won't let you down." Yvette's gaze paused, then concluded there should be no problem.

Jeremiah, however, tensed slightly, a flicker of awkwardness crossing his face. He thought, Yvette definitely shouldn't drink anymore. Her drunken state is terrifying. Watching them, after a moment's silence, compassion moved him to intervene. With a serious expression, he addressed Andrew, who was about to fetch drinks, "Andrew, I remember we're out of wine. Let's wrap it up for today." He gave Andrew a pointed look.

Andrew instantly understood. Could I not grasp what Mr. Chavez is thinking after all these years? My mission is to get Yvette drunk so Jeremiah can kiss and hug her. He gave Jeremiah a reassuring look and swaggered to fetch drinks. Jeremiah felt relieved, believing Andrew understood his intentions.

Charles hadn't missed the exchange. He saw more clearly than Andrew. What? Jeremiah doesn't want Yvette to drink? That's quite conservative. Looking at Jeremiah, he spoke up, "Mr. Chavez, don't worry. We'll just have a little, and definitely won't overdo it."

Jeremiah's expression remained unreadable. It's fine. People create their own problems. He said, "Just make sure you don't regret it." Charles was even more confused. How could a little wine lead to regret?

Yvette took a bite of beef, settling quietly, waiting for Andrew. When he returned with the wine, he encountered Samantha entering from the courtyard.

Samantha had slept soundly since arriving home yesterday, waking only in the afternoon. Learning about the barbecue and Yvette's presence, she readily joined. She'd forgone elaborate makeup, opting for a simple monochrome dress. With Yvette present, makeup was inconsequential; Yvette's beauty was unmatched. Her Skyland villa remained undecorated; she needed to expedite that to be a good neighbor to Yvette.

Seeing Andrew with red wine, white wine, and beer, Samantha dashed over, thinking, Oh! With Yvette here, how could these be here? Is this drinking, or risking one's life? The club incident flashed through her mind.

Andrew was momentarily distracted, allowing Samantha to swiftly take the wine. The others seemed unsurprised by her arrival; they knew she was coming. Only Charles, unfamiliar with her, gazed at her intently, sensing a familiarity.

"Samantha, what are you doing? That's for Yvette!" Andrew exclaimed. Samantha steadied herself. Without a word, she struck the back of his head, whispering, "You little brat, I'm saving your life! You absolutely can't drink this."

Andrew thought, Has Samantha lost her mind? Why can't we drink? Does she dislike Yvette? Didn't they meet? She praised Yvette so highly, why no drink now? What's going on?

With the wine, Samantha devised a plan. For everyone's safety, she was ready to give it her all. She turned with a bright smile, planning a feigned fall; it was time to test her acting skills. Just as she began to fall, she was caught by strong hands. Shit! she cursed inwardly. She knew those hands.

Andrew caught her. "Samantha, what are you doing? How can you fall on flat ground?"

Samantha paused, then straightened. Looking at Andrew's innocent face, she clenched her teeth. If anyone wants to take this silly kid off my hands, please do so now! Taking a deep breath, she smiled broadly. "Let's go. Carry the wine carefully."

Andrew shivered at her smile. Confidently promising care, he couldn't resist teasing, "Don't worry, not everyone is as clumsy as you."

They walked to the pavilion. Samantha greeted Yvette, "Hi, we meet again," then addressed Jeremiah, "Mr. Chavez," nodding to the handsome man beside him, clearly an outsider to their circle.

Yvette looked up, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Hi," she replied, cool and detached. Samantha saw her as rebellious yet enchanting, cool yet captivating.

Samantha noted Yvette's expression, seemingly knowing Samantha's thoughts, making her feel a little guilty.

Andrew placed the wine on the table, then cheekily sidled to Jeremiah. "Jeremiah, I got you. Top-shelf stuff." Jeremiah, hands in pockets, face expressionless, turned, raised an eyebrow, and said casually, "You really get me. That's nice. Just hope you're prepared for whatever comes next." His smile mirrored Samantha's.

That smile nearly scared Andrew. Why Mr. Chavez smiled at him for no reason was one of the world's top ten unsolved mysteries, he thought.

Charles, sitting inconspicuously, glanced at the woman beside Yvette. Her appearance is strikingly similar, but she said her name is Samantha. Except that day, she had heavy makeup, and today, barely any. Could they be the same person? He stared at Samantha, then spoke, "Hello, did you visit an underground bar in Southeast Aploth three years ago?"