Blue Bay Villa.

Seven in the evening. Celine Evans got a text from Dante's assistant.

"Ma'am, Mr. Williams has left the office."

"Okay," she replied. She did the mental math on his commute and started her usual routine.

Every night, when Dante got home, Celine would have his dinner warm, his hot water ready, and his slippers by the door.

It had been like this for all three years of their marriage.

Everyone in the city knew Celine was head-over-heels for Dante. She treated him like royalty, catering to his every whim with surgical precision.

Soon, it was the time Dante should have been home.

But the doorway remained empty. He hadn't returned.

A little while later, another message from the assistant: "Ma'am, Mr. Williams has gone to a bar. He's likely not coming back tonight."

She wasn't surprised. After keeping the food warm, she headed out to the bar.

Club Nine.

This was the go-to spot for the city's elite. Celine, in a plain beige Victorian dress that looked totally out of place amidst the glitz, weaved through room after room, searching.

Finally, she spotted Dante in the middle of the chaos.

The private room was a loud, wild scene. Dante, with a gorgeous woman draped over each arm, was in his element.

He was in high spirits, about to take a swig from a whiskey bottle when it was suddenly snatched away. The room went quiet as all eyes landed on the woman who had stopped him.

Celine's expression was serene. "Your stomach's a bit sensitive. You shouldn't drink on an empty stomach. Come home and eat first."

Dante didn't bat an eye seeing her. With a flick of his wrist, he shook off her hand.

A woman beside him scowled, eyeing Celine up and down before purring, "Dante, who is this?"

Dante raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Her? That's my wife."

The hostility in the women's eyes ratcheted up a notch.

How did this plain Jane end up Mrs. Williams?

Ignoring the icy stares, Celine pressed on. "Please, come home."

"You want me home?" Dante lounged back on the sofa, his gaze flicking over the untouched line of liquor bottles on the table. "I haven't even finished my drinks. You drink them for me, and I'll consider it."

All eyes in the room were glued to Celine, waiting for her to fold under the impossible dare. A whole lineup of hard liquor would send anyone straight to the ER for a stomach pump.

To everyone's utter shock, the second Dante finished speaking, Celine decisively popped open a bottle.

Despite her delicate frame, her movements were sharp. Without a word, she tilted her head back and chugged the entire bottle like it was water.

She dropped the empty bottle and moved to the second, then the third...

Gasps of pure disbelief echoed through the room.

"Holy crap..."

"Unbelievable."

Thud.

Setting down the final bottle, her face was ashen, but her eyes locked onto Dante with fierce determination.

Fighting to stand upright, she managed, "I finished them. We can go home now."

Dante flashed a mocking, playboy grin. "Mrs. Williams, I do believe I said I'd consider it. I didn't make any promises. I'm not done partying tonight. I'm still looking for a little more... entertainment."

The alcohol seared a fiery path down her throat.

Catching sight of the women beside him, whose faces held a faint resemblance to someone she knew, Celine finally understood the "entertainment" he was after.

Dizzy and tipsy, she stumbled forward, leaned down, and grabbed Dante's tie.

Then, she kissed him.

She wasn't exactly a smooth operator, her lips barely grazing his, like a dragonfly skimming the water's surface.