Sophie's face changed, and she said anxiously, "What are you talking about? When did I ask you to go? Go, go back."

I wrenched my hand from hers, coldly replying, "The mess I've caused, I'll deal with it. After this, we'll owe each other nothing."

With that, I pushed her aside, climbed into the car, slammed the door shut, and locked it. Turning to the driver, I said, "Let's go."

The driver hesitated for a moment, but eventually started the car. I gazed out the window, my eyes unknowingly welling up again. The vehicle sped through the night, the neon lights flashing in the streets, as though mocking my helplessness and predicament.

My phone rang once more. I didn't answer, but a message followed: "Please don't go, I beg you." It was from Sophie. I managed a bitter smile. Perhaps she wasn't as heartless as I had thought, but it was too late to turn back now.

We arrived at Serafhi Luxury Hotel. I walked straight to the elevator, and when I reached the 6th floor, I wasn't sure how I was even managing to move my legs. At room 686, I knocked on the door. A moment later, Lydia appeared, wearing a bathrobe and drying her hair with a towel, as if she knew I would come. "You're here. Come in," she said.

I entered the room. It wasn't like an ordinary guest room; it resembled a two-bedroom apartment more than anything. "Sit down. Let me finish drying my hair," Lydia said, disappearing into the bathroom. I sat restlessly, unsure of what I should do. My mood felt like meat on a chopping board, not knowing when the blade would fall, or how. Just then, my phone rang again. It was Sophie. I promptly turned the phone off.

A few minutes later, Lydia emerged, walked to the cupboard, and retrieved a bottle of Moutai. "Drink a bit the day after getting drunk, and your tolerance will build up quickly."

I looked at her in disbelief.

"It's experience. Don't doubt it," she said, sitting across from me with the bottle. "Wait, the side dish hasn't arrived yet." She walked into another room.

I couldn't quite figure out Lydia. What did she mean by this? More drinking?

A few minutes later, the doorbell rang, and Lydia turned to me. "Ryan, go open the door and get the food."

I went to open the door, and sure enough, the takeaway had arrived. The delivery guy was smiling broadly as he handed me a large bag of steaming food, and the air was filled with an appetizing aroma. I thanked him and returned to the living room, placing it on the coffee table. Two wine glasses were already set on the table, evidently Lydia had been prepared.

Soon after, Lydia emerged in new clothes, wearing a comfortable loungewear set that made her appear far friendlier than yesterday. She took the two glasses, poured the wine, and smiled. "Let's have a drink first." With that, she drank hers in one go. I looked at the drink in front of me, the strong scent making me feel nauseous. She gave me a half-smile, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "Just take a little sip. Tomorrow you'll see if I was right."

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I mustered all my courage, picking up the glass, wondering what exactly was going on. Lydia's gaze carried a mischievous gleam, as if she was waiting for my reaction. After swallowing the wine, the fiery burn of alcohol hit my throat and stomach, almost making me cough. Lydia, seeing this, laughed and offered me a skewer of grilled meat. "Eat something."

I took the skewer, my heart pounding as though I were waiting for the blade to fall, even when eating a mere piece of meat. The alcohol began to take effect, slowly easing my tension. After finishing the drink, Lydia began to speak more freely.

"Ryan, who told you to come here?" she suddenly asked, her tone probing.

I paused, then replied, "I came on my own."

"Who told you?" she pressed further, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes.

I hesitated for a moment before answering, "Lucas Steele."

Lydia burst into laughter, her voice tinged with a hint of mockery. "Do you think I brought you here to sleep with me?"

I froze for a moment, my heart racing, and tentatively replied, "Isn't that the case?"

"Such a naive little boy!" she chided, though her gaze held no malice. "I only said that on purpose today. But if you hadn't come, things would have been difficult to resolve. You would have slapped my face, and the face of AstraTech Solutions."

I was utterly lost in the twists and turns of the situation. Seeing my confusion, Lydia couldn't help but laugh. She set down her wine glass, leaned back on the sofa, her eyes gleaming with a tinge of reminiscence.

"Sophie and I have known each other for quite a long time. Back then, she was just a young girl, fresh out of university, new to Virelia, unfamiliar with everything, running business errands. She's a good person, very sharp, and quickly sensed opportunities. She founded Vanguard Industries—this woman is truly remarkable. In a male-dominated business world, she managed to make her mark and thrive," Lydia said, her eyes filled with admiration and a trace of nostalgia.

I was taken aback, unable to hide my astonishment. "You know all this?"

"I didn't know much. I'm with Eldoria, and she only recently acquired our company," I replied, half-truthfully, curiosity about Sophie's entrepreneurial journey stirring within me.

Lydia shook her head lightly, continuing, "She really is a formidable woman. People call me a strong woman too, but I have the backing of a large corporation and more resources than most. She, on the other hand, built her empire from scratch, so I truly respect her. When the chance for collaboration arose, I leaned towards her right away, but you—well, you ruined it."

"I—I didn't expect to be like that when I got drunk," I stammered, scratching my head in embarrassment, my heart heavy with regret and helplessness.

Lydia suddenly laughed, her eyes softening with warmth. "I like you because you remind me so much of my son. Your face, your figure—everything's the same. The only difference is that he has a mole by his mouth. When I look at you, I see him. He should be about your age now."

"Where is your son?" I asked carefully, afraid of touching upon a painful subject.

Lydia's eyes suddenly welled up with tears. She wiped them away with the back of her hand, her voice breaking. "He's gone. He died in a car accident with his father. It's been five years now. My home... I haven't been back in all these years. It's so cold and empty." Her words were laced with an unbearable sadness and loneliness.

"I'm sorry, Lydia, for bringing up painful memories," I quickly apologized, my heart filled with profound sympathy for her loss.

Lydia waved her hand, forcing a faint smile. "It's alright. Meeting someone who looks so much like my son—it's like fulfilling a wish deep in my heart."

"Come, let's drink." She raised her glass, signaling for me to join her.

With the weight of worry lifted, I relaxed and drank with Lydia. I was cautious not to let myself get too drunk, deciding to control my actions and stay with her until the end. A slight buzz began to creep over me, but it wasn't overwhelming.

"Tonight, you'll sleep in this room," she said, leading me to a bedroom. I collapsed onto the bed and fell into a deep, instant sleep.