I didn't wait for him to finish speaking; I smiled and pushed the door open, instantly dropping the atmosphere in the private room to freezing point.

I picked up a glass of wine and obediently sat down beside Zane.

"What are you talking about? You all seem so happy."

Seeing my confused expression, everyone let out a sigh of relief.

They all raised their glasses to toast me, and I accepted them all.

I drank glass after glass, anxiously waiting for Zane to mention the bet he had talked about.

I don't know how long it had been when the door was pushed open again.

I slightly raised my gaze to see who had entered—it was Yale Smith.

Only then did I realize what it meant to be seen as a rare gem, a prince unlike any other.

He wore gold-rimmed glasses, had sharp features, broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long legs, exquisite down to the last hair.

Just as I was lost in thought, Zane patted my shoulder, his tone somewhat casual.

"Stella, my brother is here; go have a drink with him."

I tugged at his sleeve, still unwilling to give up, and asked, "Are you really sure you want me to drink with him?"

I emphasized the words "drink with him," but Zane seemed unfazed by my concern.

"What's the big deal? If the older brother has it, the younger brother can't have nothing, right?"

"Brother, this isn't right..."

Zane impatiently interrupted, "Brothers are like hands and feet; women are like clothes, just a woman!"

The phrase "just a woman" made all the girls present change their expressions.

I thought to myself, "You will regret this, Zane. Time will prove it."

I smiled sweetly and slowly stood up, throwing myself into Yale's arms, joking, "Let's do what your brother loves most."

"Your brother will be so happy."

The atmosphere in the private room froze instantly, everyone staring at me in shock.

Yale paused, his deep-set eyes flickering with an inscrutable light.

His large hand rested on my waist as he thanked Zane, "Thanks, brother; I will cherish her."

Zane's expression darkened, and he scoffed disdainfully.

We walked out of the room, and as we closed the door behind us, several loud crashes echoed from inside.

Zane angrily smashed several bottles of wine.

I heard someone trying to calm him down.

"It's okay; maybe Stella just wants to make you jealous; don't take it to heart."

"Exactly, why get so angry? She's probably still thinking about becoming a daughter-in-law of the Franklin family and will come back to apologize soon."

Zane seemed somewhat pleased, his voice cold, "A pretty girl and a bastard are a better match, aren't they?"

"If she wants to come back, let's see if I want her."

As we walked out of the bar, I felt a twinge of guilt and apologized to Yale.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess."

"You don't have to take what I said seriously," I said.

To my surprise, Yale reached out and touched my face, his tone soft and affectionate.

"Why are you crying?"

Then, lowering his voice, he whispered in my ear, "And I did take it seriously. What now, Stella?"

"I... I..." I was so shocked that I couldn't form a complete sentence, just staring at him with my red eyes.

"I'm your brother's woman. Aren't you... disgusted?"

He hesitated, biting his lip, "A son of a mistress like him thinks he can be my brother?"

I had heard about their family's feud; it was just about Zane's father climbing the social ladder while juggling two relationships.

His mother couldn't stand it and divorced his father, taking Yale with her.

Over time, Zane's mother spread rumors that Yale was an illegitimate child, and soon everyone believed it.

"I'm much older than you," I said, my voice growing colder.

"How will you know if you don't try?"

"Maybe after one experience, you'll want a second!"

A mischievous glint flashed in Yale's eyes as he continued with his suggestive remarks, making my face flush like a boiled shrimp.

Suddenly, I recalled Zane's words. I grabbed Yale's tie and pulled him closer, smiling sweetly.

"Alright, let's see how good your kissing skills are first."

With that, his kiss descended upon me, starting off tentative and quickly becoming passionate.

I had to admit, his kiss was intoxicating, leaving me breathless.

As I felt his hands wandering, I quickly stopped him, panting softly.

"Let's go... to my place."

Yale's eyes darkened, and he didn't respond at first.

Just when I thought he was silently rejecting me, he pressed a gentle kiss on my forehead and spoke in a hoarse voice.

"Okay."

The moment the door closed, Yale pushed me against the wall, pinning my hands above my head.

He began by gently kissing my brows, nose, and finally my lips.

In the dim lighting, I couldn't make out his expression.

An intimate atmosphere permeated the air.

Just as his hand was about to slip under my skirt, I stopped him.

"Yale, are you sure about this? I'm not responsible for the consequences."

"Stella, how do you know you won't want to try it a second time after the first?" he murmured.

Perhaps it was the alcohol, but I took the initiative to kiss him. There's nothing wrong with letting loose once in a while.

He scooped me up with one arm and set me on the kitchen counter, his voice low and hoarse.

"Stella, make me some noodles, will you? I'm hungry."

My hand holding the noodles trembled.

"Yale... it's all yours..."

Outside, a light rain pattered down. Inside, an intimate, tender atmosphere lingered.

Yale held me tightly around the waist, as if afraid I would run away.

I took out a lady's cigarette and played with the lighter, but didn't light it for a long time.

Glancing down at the peacefully sleeping Yale, I sighed.

I don't know what the right thing to do is, but at least I won't regret it before it happens.

Zane used to be like a dazzling sun to me, but chasing after him was just too exhausting.