Samantha, still speaking with Yvette, stiffened at those words. “Three years ago? An underground bar in Southeast Aploth? Of course, I was there. And I did something so foolish I don’t even want to remember it!”

A headache formed. Could she be so unlucky as to run into him here? Incredibly so!

Her silence drew everyone's attention, except for Charles, who glared at her. Jeremiah and Andrew also turned, wondering what was happening. Charles's words suggested a previous encounter.

Yvette glanced at the clearly angry Charles, lowering her eyes and raising an eyebrow. A glimmer flickered in her cool gaze. Three years ago, there was a rumor about Charles in Mysonna's underworld; its truth unknown. Now, it seems true.

Samantha raised her head, smiling brightly as she studied Charles. His face is familiar, though it was so dark then I didn't see him clearly. Now, his features, face shape, even build are similar. Who else would ask that but him? Charles. Oh God! I need to deny everything. He was incoherent then, and certainly didn't see my face clearly. Otherwise, wouldn't he have strangled me instead of asking so politely?

Andrew mused, I've never seen Samantha this quiet. Something's definitely up. I'm curious. In a dark, windy underground bar, what could a man and woman possibly do? The scene sounds wild!

His gaze darted between Charles and Samantha. A sudden realization sparked a reckless speculation. “Samantha, you’re not that kind of woman, are you? Three years ago, you met Charles at an underground bar in Southeast Aploth. He fell for you instantly, captivated by your beauty. You got what you wanted, then dumped him. Admit it!” He almost held up a sign: “Samantha is a heartbreaker!”

Smugly anticipating triumph, Samantha rose, smiled, and kicked the grinning Andrew. Completely unprepared, he tumbled to the floor.

He scrambled up, rubbing his backside. “Hey! At least give a heads-up next time!”

Jeremiah, peeling a pomegranate beside Yvette, watched Andrew rise. The glistening seeds lay on a clear plate. Calmly, he said to Samantha, “Too gentle.” Yvette, giving Andrew a sideways glance, curled her lips. “Another kick.”

Andrew thought, The world’s getting more dangerous. Jeremiah and Yvette are becoming inhuman.

Samantha gritted her teeth, wondering what past-life sin earned her such a troublesome brother. “Andrew, you really are my brother.”

“Samantha, it’s not my fault,” he retorted. “Novels always start with a chase! I’ve read about Charles's questions before. It was a guess. Why kick me?”

This angered her further. Andrew, a man who preferred home and romance novels—an entire wall of comics and novels!—had never even dated, yet advised Mr. Chavez on love. All talk, no action.

Yvette, lounging in an armchair, sipping red wine, raised her eyes to Andrew’s sad face, then to Jeremiah. “Did Andrew give you the novel?” she asked in a clear, cold voice.

Jeremiah paused, tilting his head and gently pinching her finger. “Yes.”

Yvette smirked, finishing her wine. She had a goal.

Ignoring the others, Charles stared at Samantha. “Was it you, three years ago?”

Feeling eyes on her, Samantha stiffened slightly, turning to face his suspicious gaze. Instantly adopting a sweet demeanor, she was exceptionally polite. “Charles, I think you’re mistaken. I wasn’t in Southeast Aploth three years ago. Perhaps she just resembled me.” She couldn’t admit it. The consequences were too dire.

Charles remained unconvinced, certain the woman was Samantha. After all these years, I've finally found her. I was the biggest joke in Mysonna’s underworld because of her!

Ice-cold, veins bulging in his neck, he stared at her with an unreadable smile. “Samantha, do you remember a check for fifteen million dollars inside that dress?”

Instinctively, she shook her head. “What check? Scrap paper.”

Silence fell. Samantha looked at the silent group. “Why are you all staring? I wouldn’t take that money!”

Andrew nudged her sleeve, a peculiar expression on his face. Even Samantha isn't always sharp. Didn't she just admit it? “Samantha, you’ve exposed yourself.”

Her expression froze. Shit! Charles doesn’t play fair. If it weren’t for my guilt, I wouldn’t be caught like this. I was careless. She took two steps back, eyeing him cautiously.

Charles’s face remained stern, fists clenched. He’d vowed to tear her apart if he ever caught her. He hadn't expected her to be Yvette’s friend, preventing him from hitting or killing her. His frustration mounted.

Tension filled the air. Their gazes locked, unspoken meaning passing between them.

Andrew rubbed his chin, wondering if another guess would earn another kick. He decided against the risk. Cautiously, he asked, “What really happened at that bar three years ago? What’s the grudge?”

Charles’s demeanor grew even colder, the air pressure seemingly dropping. He frowned, his tone frosty. “Let Samantha explain.”