Celine was no match for Carly. Adam cast a cold glance at the man and, with a sneer, spat out a single word: "Scram." The man fled without daring to look back.

Adam lowered his sharp gaze to Carly and pulled his arm free from her grip. "Carly, have you had enough?"

Carly froze, then retorted, "Are you scolding me? If I hadn't caused a scene, you'd be in bed with Celine by now!" Adam's expression remained indifferent. "So you drugged yourself?"

Spoiled by his constant indulgence, Carly tilted her chin defiantly. "Exactly, Adam. If you touch Celine, I'll let another man touch me."

Adam's face darkened; his anger was almost palpable. Without a word, he turned and walked away. He was leading, not coaxing.

Even in a bar filled with beautiful people, Adam's commanding presence turned heads. Women were captivated by his wealth and striking looks. Carly wasn't naive; she knew Celine and every other woman in the room wanted him. She wouldn't give them the chance.

The proud princess immediately swallowed her pride. Lunging forward, she hugged him tightly from behind, wrapping her arms around his sculpted waist. "Adam, don't go." Adam stopped.

Carly clung to him, her red lips pouting as she whined, "Adam, I'm sorry. I only acted this way because I love you so much. I can't stand the thought of you being with another"

She nuzzled her face against his back, adding softly, "Adam, I feel so dizzy."

After a moment of silence, Adam turned, bent down, and scooped Carly into his arms. Her delicate figure rested securely in his powerful grip as they drew the attention of envious onlookers. Carly wrapped her arms around his neck, a triumphant smile playing on her lips.

Half an hour later, Adam carried Carly into Westwood Villa. While his and Celine's marital home was in Lux Garden, Westwood Villa was his personal residence. The interior was a sophisticated blend of black, white, and gray tones—understated yet luxurious, with every inch reflecting its immense value.

In the master bedroom, Adam gently placed Carly on the soft bed. He turned to leave, but Carly grabbed his neck firmly. "Adam, are you still mad at me?"

Adam tried to remove her hand, but she leaned in, placing her delicate face close to his and whispering sweetly, "Sir?"

That single word stopped Adam. Suddenly, he thought of Celine. Hadn't she also called him "sir" today? He must have misheard; Celine couldn't possibly have said that. After all, only Carly called him that.

Adam braced his hands on either side of her, his voice softening. "Don't let this happen again." Carly knew he couldn't resist her when she used that title. It was her secret weapon, the one thing that made him spoil her unconditionally.

Then, remembering something, Adam asked, "Carly, where's the emerald pendant I gave you years ago?"

"Emerald pendant?" Carly's gaze flickered briefly. The pendant wasn't with her. It was with… In any case, she needed to get it back.

"I left it at home," she replied, quickly changing the subject.

Carly pulled him closer, their lips nearly touching, the air heavy with tension. Her voice turned sultry. "Adam, I've been drugged."

Adam's eyes swept briefly over her red lips. "And?"

Carly smiled seductively. "I need you to be my antidote." With that, she pressed her lips to his.