The bonfire party was in full swing, the flames leaping high, casting a warm, bright glow as young men and women danced around it.

Being pregnant, Yvonne naturally didn't join the festivities.

She stood to the side, watching the lively scene with a smile, planning to head back and rest soon.

Jessa Lane, tagging along with Letitia, was letting loose and had had quite a bit to drink.

Stumbling with a wine glass in hand, Jessa accidentally collided with Yvonne.

The red wine in Jessa's glass spilled precisely onto Yvonne's white dress, soaking the front of her chest. Yvonne could feel the cold, sticky liquid seep through her bra and onto her skin.

With the party being on the beach, the sea breeze cut right through her clothes, making Yvonne shiver uncontrollably.

Jessa, looking completely drunk, just grinned. "Oops, sorry. Lost my grip."

Nearly all of the Thompson Group's top executives were present, and many eyes turned to see what was happening.

In such a public setting, Yvonne couldn't argue with a drunk. She just frowned slightly, pulled a few tissues from a box on a nearby table, and began dabbing at the wine stain on her chest without a word.

Letitia, who had been partying with Jessa, couldn't help but chime in. "Jessa didn't do it on purpose, and she already apologized. The least you could do is say 'it's okay.' So rude. Classless is classless. You can put on a pretty dress, but you'll never be royalty."

Yvonne remained silent, still dabbing at the wine on her chest. After she was done, she casually tossed the tissues aside, took a few slow steps toward a nearby table, and then, with a light but firm kick, struck the table leg.

The table wobbled for a moment, and the surface trembled with it.

The champagne tower set up on the table lost its balance, tilted, and then came crashing to the ground with a deafening shatter, spraying glass and liquid everywhere.

Jessa and Letitia were standing right next to the tower and were instantly drenched in champagne and muddy sand. Fortunately, they weren't cut by any of the glass shards.

"Ah!" they shrieked, jumping back in alarm.

"Yvonne, you bitch, what is wrong with you!"

Yvonne watched their panicked, screeching antics and replied coolly, "My apologies. My foot slipped."

"You... you!" Letitia, a complete mess, sputtered, pointing a trembling finger at her, unable to form a coherent sentence.

Jessa's face was twisted in a furious scowl, her eyes glaring at Yvonne, all traces of drunkenness gone.

Bennett, who had been speaking with a Thompson Group shareholder nearby, looked over when he heard the commotion. He saw the wine staining his wife's dress and Letitia pointing a disrespectful finger at her nose.

Bennett's expression immediately darkened. He strode over, shrugging off his suit jacket as he walked, and draped it directly over Yvonne's shoulders.

"What happened?" Bennett asked, his dark eyes narrowed as he looked at Yvonne.

"Ms. Lane had too much to drink and accidentally spilled wine on me," Yvonne said, pouting her lips with a look of utter grievance.

At her words, Bennett's icy gaze swept over Jessa and Letitia, then to the wreckage on the ground.

"Are Ms. Lane and Ms. Bishop dissatisfied with the Thompson family, or do you find our hospitality lacking?" Bennett asked in a chilling tone.

In Bennett's presence, Jessa and Letitia cowered, lowering their heads like frightened rabbits.

But Letitia couldn't swallow her

anger. Her designer gown had cost a

fortune. The Bishop family was

nowhere near as wealthy as the Thompsons of the Jameses, and buying a dress that expensive was a painful expense. Now, Yvonne had ruined it.