"Not at all. Your health comes first, Mr. Thompson."

Before Bennett could finish, the others quickly waved their hands in reassurance.

Since Bennett was the host, the guests naturally followed his lead.

"Ben, you're hurt again? Is it serious?" Yolanda asked with concern.

"It's just a minor wound, nothing to worry about," Bennett replied calmly. He picked up his utensils, placed a piece of pork rib into the bowl in front of Yolanda.

The gazes of those around them subtly shifted, watching the interaction.

Yolanda smiled shyly and began to eat the rib in small, delicate bites.

Yvonne couldn't look at Bennett directly, so she stole a quick glance while reaching for a dish. Seeing his expression was normal and his complexion healthy, she figured his injury couldn't be too severe and felt a sense of relief.

Though seafood was off the menu, Bennett had Mr. Ward open a vintage bottle from his collection.

However, most of the men had driven and couldn't drink. Only the well-known producer, who had come with his director friend, could indulge.

"Such a fine wine, and none of you are drinking. More for me, I suppose," the producer joked.

"Alright, don't rub it in," the director replied.

"Won't the ladies have a little?" the producer asked politely.

"I'm a lightweight and a terrible drunk. I'd rather not make a fool of myself," Yvonne declined with a smile. The original Yvonne couldn't hold her liquor, and she had no desire to repeat that embarrassing experience.

"And Ms. Walker?" the producer asked, turning to Yolanda.

"Yolanda isn't feeling well and can't drink," Oscar answered for her.

Yolanda simply nodded in agreement.

After lunch, the group headed to the stables.

Yvonne was a skilled rider, but her body's previous owner had no experience with horses. To avoid

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suspicion, she had to resign herself to being a spectator.

Yolanda had been frail since childhood and naturally couldn't ride either.

The director, in his fifties, had no interest in such youthful activities, so the three of them sat in the viewing stands.

The others all went down to select their horses.

The estate's stables housed over a dozen fine horses, more than half of which were imported.

Oscar chose an Arabian, one of the oldest and most resilient breeds. Mr. Rogers always had a discerning eye.

Thomas' horse was a Thoroughbred he had bought while filming last year and had kept at the estate ever since.

Bennett's mount was a mature Akhal-Teke, the legendary 'heavenly horse.'

When it first arrived at the estate, it

was just a fiery colt under two years

old Yvonne had taken a liking to and had cared for it for a while.

Wz

She would bathe and feed the young horse while Bennett stood by, teasing, "With such a bad temper, how will he ever find a wife?"

The colt, as if understanding Bennett's words, neighed loudly at him.

Yvonne couldn't help but laugh. "Then perhaps Mr. Thompson can introduce him to a nice filly?"

"Sure. And when they have foals, our kids can ride them," Bennett had replied.

Yvonne shot him a playful look. "Who said I was having kids with you?"

"Of course you are," Bennett said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her into his

embrace as if it were the most

natural thing in the world.

A sharp crack from a starting pistol pulled Yvonne from her memories and back to

the present.

She watched as Bennett took an early lead on the track, with Thomas and Oscar riding neck and neck behind him.

The others followed close behind, not willing to be left in the dust.