I gave a self-deprecating smile, though deep down I felt nothing. Truth be told, I had only come here for my mother's necklace.

But why were they here?

Inside, I let my gaze wander over the winery's interior design and furnishings without revealing my thoughts. When my eyes landed on the antique mural hanging on the wall, I finally had my answer.

This was indeed the winery my sister had purchased last year. That very painting was the housewarming gift I had given her. I even remembered how the workers chipped a corner while hanging it, and I'd promised to restore it for her someday. But then she went abroad, and I hadn't set foot here since.

Lost in thought, I was jolted back by the cutting laughter of the men around Dolly.

"Look at this bumpkin's eyes. I bet he's never stepped into a place this fancy in his life!"

"Just look at him, gawking like a fool. Dolly, it must have been torture for you dating this guy. A gorgeous lady wasted on a useless fool!"

I turned, studying the three men in head-to-toe designer brands who clustered near her. Suddenly, I recalled my sister mentioning two days ago that she would be hosting a party at the winery and had invited me to come. The event was today.

Were these people her friends?

While I mulled it over, Steven strolled up, his face stretched into a false smile.

"A guest is a guest. He came all this way. No need to be harsh."

No sooner had he spoken than someone chimed in eagerly, flattering him.

"Spoken like a true gentleman, Steven. Hey, why are you still standing there? Take your shoes off before you dirty Steven's winery!"

I froze mid-step and turned to Steven.

"This is your winery?"

Dolly snorted.

"Whose else would it be? Yours? With those worthless trinkets you mess around with, you'll never even dream of stepping into a place this high-class."

I ignored her. In my heart, I was already certain—they weren't my sister's guests.

With that thought, I sat myself down on the plush sofa, curious to see what game they were playing.

"Wow, the bumpkin really made himself at home. Thinks this place is his now?" someone sneered.

Steven brushed it off with practiced magnanimity.

"Come now, it's rare for Justin to visit. Don't make it hard for him. There's fruit on the table—help yourselves."

Everyone's eyes shifted toward the table, where a lacquer plate brimmed with golden cherries. They reached eagerly, savoring the fruit.

I, however, sat frozen.

"What's wrong, Justin? Don't tell me you've never seen these before?"

Dolly curled her lip in disdain. "Of course not. Someone like him has never tasted cherries that cost five hundred a kilogram."

Their laughter rang out, mocking me for being unsophisticated. But it wasn't the fruit that shocked me—it was the plate.

The lacquer plate looked far too familiar. If I wasn't mistaken, it was an antique lacquerware my sister had spent 600,000 dollars on at Christie's just last month.

But such antique lacquer couldn't be exposed to air. It was always coated in a thick protective shell.

Now, stripped bare, the plate was ruined.

My eyes scanned the room until they landed on the wastebasket by my feet. Inside lay the discarded lacquer coating, peeled away by human hands.

Meanwhile, the culprits jeered on.

"Ha! Look, he's so shocked he can't even move."

"Just proves he's a clueless bumpkin. That face—priceless!"

I straightened, nodding solemnly. "Shocked, yes. That plate happens to be a 600,000 dollar antique."

"What? 600,000 dollars? For that plate?"

"Seriously? Is he making this up?"

Steven faltered for a split second before waving his hand with forced nonchalance.

"Pfft, just a little trinket."

The flattery returned instantly.

"As expected of Steven, so generous!"

"Only someone like him would use a 600,000 dollar antique plate for fruit."

Dolly pressed herself against his chest, her face glowing with adoration.

"Steven, you're amazing. Not like some people, who only know how to show off with words."

Basking in her praise, Steven puffed himself up. "The only thing that matters is everyone's happy."

I rolled my eyes inwardly. If my sister found out, I couldn't imagine her reaction.

Once the cherries were gone, they strolled around the estate, marveling at its luxury. I trailed closely behind, not out of interest but out of fear—fear that they'd ruin something else.

And, as fate would have it, what I feared most was exactly what happened next.

Staring at the ornate carved door ahead, Dolly asked curiously, "What's this place?"

Her voice caught the others' attention. When they learned it was the wine cellar, excitement rippled through the group, and they clamored to go inside.

My heart tightened. That cellar held my sister's collection—rare wines she'd acquired from auctions all over the world. Alarmed, I stepped forward to stop them.

But Steven was already keying in the code. With a soft click, the heavy door swung open.

Three towering walls of wine came into view, arranged meticulously by vintage. Beside them, a marble tasting counter gleamed, lined with crystal decanters and fine wine glasses.

"Damn, Steven, you're too modest. You called this 'not big'? This cellar is massive!"

"Look at all these bottles. Every single one must cost a fortune!"

"Of course! Would Steven stock cheap wine? Think we'll be lucky enough to taste one?"

Dolly's eyes glittered with delight.

"Steven, you're incredible. So many rare wines… not like some people, who only know how to hoard junk."

Her sneer flicked toward me at the back of the group.

Steven waved his hand with practiced ease. "This is only part of my collection. Feel free to look around. But be careful. Don't drop anything."

My expression darkened.

Aside from my sister, I was the only one who knew that code. How did he?

Had I been wrong? Was Steven truly a close friend of hers—trusted enough to be lent the estate?

I pulled out my phone, typing a quick message to my sister.

At that moment, Dolly lifted a bottle from the rack.

"Steven, this label looks a little yellowed. Is it expensive?"

Steven glanced at it, paused, then replied casually, "Not really. That one's just a few thousand."

I caught sight of the bottle in her hand and nearly bit my tongue in shock.

Few thousand, my ass.

That was the collector's vintage my sister had spent five million on at an auction last year.

Dolly weighed the bottle carelessly, pouting. "Looks like it's almost expired. Why don't we just toss it later?"

"There are staff who maintain everything here," Steven reassured her. "No need to trouble yourself."

I barely heard them, my attention locked on her reckless hands. She tossed the bottle lightly from palm to palm, utterly oblivious.

I couldn't hold back anymore.

"Put the bottle down. That wine is priceless. There are only three left in the world."

The words froze everyone in place.

Steven's smile faltered.

"Well, well. Didn't think you knew anything about wine, Justin."

Dolly clicked her tongue impatiently. "Steven's trying to show you some class, and you can't stop running your mouth."

Without even looking, she shoved the bottle toward the rack.

Crash!

The bottle hit the floor, shattering into glittering shards. The heady fragrance of rare wine filled the cellar, thick and intoxicating.

My temples pounded, breath catching in my throat.

Gasps rippled through the group.

Dolly blinked, then looked at Steven.

"Steven, this one really wasn't expensive, right? It doesn't matter if it broke?"

Steven waved a dismissive hand. "It's fine."

Relieved, she leaned into him, eyes glistening as she cooed, "You're so good to me."

I let out a cold laugh, pulling out my phone.

"If I'm not mistaken, that bottle sold at the Parleys auction last year… for five million."

"Who is gonna pay for this bottle?"

I held up my phone, showing them the auction record from the day my sister had purchased it.

The moment everyone saw the record on the screen, their faces drained of color.

Dolly nearly collapsed from fright, though she forced herself to put on a mask of composure.

"Justin," she sneered, "so what if the wine is expensive? Whether anyone pays isn't up to you."

The other three immediately caught on and chimed in.

"Exactly! Steven hasn't said a word yet—so why won't you shut up?"

It was then that Steven, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke in a calm, measured tone.

"Don't worry, everyone. This bottle is a fake. It's worthless."

Then his eyes shifted to me.

"Justin, I know you dislike me because of Dolly, but what's the point of repeatedly stirring up trouble in my estate just to show off? You're not welcome here. Leave. Now."

Dolly echoed him with scorn. "You're just jealous that Steven has more money than you. Pretending to know things you don't!"

"Yeah, people like you don't belong here. Fuck off!" another jeered.

Watching their smug expressions, I could only sigh and glance at the time. My sister should be arriving any minute.

And right on cue, the sound of the front door opening echoed from outside.

I turned and saw Trish standing in the doorway of the wine cellar.

Now the real show would begin.

Her gaze fell on the pool of red wine and scattered glass shards littering the floor. Her expression darkened instantly, her voice sharp with unquestionable authority.

"Who are you people? What are you doing here?"

At once, Steven's face went pale. The others still looked confused… until Dolly stormed forward, glaring at my sister with open hostility.

"Who are you? How did you get in here? And why do you know the estate's access code?"

My sister studied her for a long moment before asking cautiously, "You're… Dolly?"

I had once sent Trish Dolly's photo. I never expected her to actually remember.

But Dolly's reaction made it clear—she had completely misunderstood my sister's connection to Steven. She thought Trish was a rival for his affection.

Her face twisted with arrogant defiance as she declared her claim of ownership.

"Good, so you do know who I am. I'm Steven's official girlfriend. Don't think that just because you weaseled your way into getting the estate's code, you can steal him from me."

My sister's eyes sharpened, cold fury flashing in them. I knew that look—she was on the edge of exploding.

"Steven? Who's Steven?"

Steven had no choice but to step forward, forcing a smile. "Hello, Trish. I'm Steven Chase. We've met before. Surely you remember?"

"I don't know you," she cut him off icily. "Why are you in my house? And more importantly, who broke my wine, the one worth five million?"

The room fell into stunned silence. Everyone exchanged bewildered glances.

Even Dolly realized something was wrong. She shoved Steven hard, her voice panicked. "Steven… this isn't your winery?"

It was only then that Steven seemed to grasp the situation. His face turned ashen, and words failed him.

Seeing this, Trish pulled out her phone, her gaze sweeping over them like a blade.

"Since no one wants to confess, I'll just let the police handle it."

The moment she mentioned the police, panic spread across their faces. Dolly quickly pointed a trembling finger at me.

"It was him! He smashed your bottle. Everyone here saw it!"

The others rushed to agree, eager to pin it on me.

Steven joined in, jabbing a finger my way without hesitation.

"It's his fault! He insisted on touring the estate and demanded to see the cellar. I warned him repeatedly, but he wouldn't listen. He broke the bottle, and he's staying silent about it!"

When his words ended, the cellar grew so quiet it was suffocating. Trish's face darkened even further.

The others, however, were grinning with thinly veiled glee, certain I was about to take the fall.

But then Trish crossed the room, a smile tugging at her lips, and affectionately wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

"Is that true, my dear brother?"