Zachary shot James a look. "The missus is strict, huh?"
James was not about to take the bait. "You don't even have one to be strict with you."
Zachary shut up right then—he had to be upset again!
Since he could not fight back, he just had to hide!
If he snapped at James, James had his wife to back him up, and he alone would never win against two.
Picking up the wine bottle and pouring it for Irene, Zachary said, "Let's drink a little since Isaac isn't around."
Irene frowned. "Don't mention him."
"Who?" Zachary asked despite knowing the answer, and he chuckled as Irene shot him a glare.
Even if Irene had a husband, right now, she was alone like him—having a kindred spirit certainly made it feel a lot less lonely.
Since he was not the most tragic person around… did that mean she was the same as him?
"If I recall, you're bad with liquor. One drink, and that's all," Zachary said, but he poured her a full glass, clearly trying to get her drunk.
As Irene rolled her eyes, Zachary said, "Come on. I'm keeping you company."
He was clearly trying to tempt her.
Still, Irene drank it even though she really could not hold her liquor, which was both bitter and burned her throat.
Her cheeks were flushed soon enough.
Despite knowing that she could not hold her liquor, Zachary kept goading her anyway. "Keep drinking and you'll get used to the taste."
Irene kept eating instead to try to quell the bitter aftertaste, but Zachary poured her another glass. "It's just how alcohol tastes."
Irene waved him off—she could not drink anymore. "Stop it."
Zachary simply stuffed the glass into her hand. "Trust me. Drink this, and you won't find it terrible anymore."
"Really?" Irene stared at him, tipsy but skeptical. "I don't believe you. I'm going back to my room."
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