Bruce nodded, not saying much more, only offering a word of caution. "Don''t do anything that dangerous again. The Walkers are ruthless; they won''t care about your family name."


    Bet acknowledged with a nod. "Vincent is extremely cautious. I was never able to get close to the core of his operations. Continuing to y with fire would have risked dragging the entire Thompson family into it, so I got out when I could."


    Yvonne''s appearance had been timely. She had provided him with the perfect excuse to ''fall for someone else,'' break up with Ynda, and withdraw from the Walker family''s orbit unscathed.


    "You''re a smart man; you know when to pull back. But that Eden boy... he just dove right in. Frank is so sharp, how did he end up with such a foolish son?"


    Bruce shook his head with a sigh.


    Bet continued to drink and talk with Bruce, losing all track of time.


    Finally, a call came from Monica, urging Bruce to drink less ande home soon.


    "Mrs. Jones is getting worried. Mr. Jones, let me drive you home,” Bet offered.


    But Bruce waved him off with a smile. “You should get back to your girl. I''m not drunk yet. I can get home myself.”


    Despite Bruce''s protests, Bet insisted on driving him back to the Jones residence.


    As the car pulled into the small courtyard of the Jones family home, Monica was already standing at the gate, craning her neck. When the car stopped, she hurried over, taking Bruce''s arm and chiding him gently, "Why do you always drink so much? Don''t you know how old you are? You''re such a worry."


    "I didn''t drink that much, really, I didn''t," Bruce exined good-naturedly.


    The couple walked toward the house together, their figures creating a scene of quiet warmth.


    Bet sat in the back of the car. In the dim light, the soft glow from his phone screen illuminated his handsome profile.


    At this hour, Bet wasn''t sure if Yvonne was asleep, so he sent her a text.


    [Asleep?]


    The reply came almost instantly.


    [Yes.]


    Bet couldn''t help but smile at the screen.


    His long fingers moved, dialing her number.


    The call connected quickly, and Yvonne''s voice came through,zy and rxed.


    "Are you done with your business?"


    "Yes."


    “Have you been drinking?"


    Bet''s voice was a little hoarse and Yvonne knew immediately. They were se familiar with each other that there


    were no secrets between them.


    Bet chuckled softly. "I had a few drinks with Mr. Jones."


    "How''s my dad?" Yvonne asked.


    "I dropped him off at home safely."


    Yvonne nodded, then asked, “Are youing back to me?"


    "Is that alright?” Bet asked with a smile in his voice.


    "Just don''t get caught by any photographers."


    "Alright," Bet agreed.


    In truth, it wouldn''t matter if he was photographed. The Thompson family had more than enough power to suppress any story. In Istra, media outlet would dare to cross


    them.


    no...


    After hanging up, Bet instructed the driver to take him back to the hotel.


    It was past eleven at night, and the hotel was quiet.


    He walked down the hallway to Yvonne''s room.


    The doorbell rang only once before


    the


    i was pulled open from the


    Yvonne had clearly been


    waiting for him.


    As Bet stepped into the room, Yvonneunched herself at him, clinging to him


    like she was glued to his body.


    She stood on her tiptoes, tilting her head up to kiss the corner of his lips.


    "I''m cold," Bet said, instinctively turning his head slightly. He gently pulled her off of him.