"You're confident, aren't you?" Wilson lifted his eyes to look at Emma's excited expression and chuckled involuntarily. "They're not ordinary See-You-Tomorrows."

He added something special inside.

Emma missed the implication of the man's words and asked earnestly, "Shall we begin?"

"Sure."

To win and get rid of the man giving off a dangerous vibe, Emma began to drink at full tilt.

The first shot gave Emma's mouth and throat a sharp pain.

Her throat basically adapted it when Emma took the second shot. However, her chest started to burn as if it would erupt like a volcano at any time.

When she drained the third shot, her vision became somewhat blurred.

Emma purposely waited a while before taking the fourth shot to see the man collapse before she blacked out.

However, Wilson elegantly picked up those shots one by one with indifference and pride in his eyes.

Soon, only one shot before Wilson was left.

Emma gazed at the man's usually bright, dark pupils, then said in a shaking voice in disbelief, "No...way! That's impossible!"

She was quite a brilliant drinker. How could she lose the game to Wilson?

"Is there something wrong with the shots you made for me?" Her vision was getting more and more blurry.

Wilson relaxedly picked up the last shot of his and handed it over to Emma, suggesting, "If you suspect that there is something wrong with your drinks, take mine. As long as you drain this shot, you win."

Emma took the shot over without hesitation.

It was just a shot of See You Tomorrow.

With her drinking capacity, she could deal with at least two more shots before blacking out. And Wilson had finished seven shots of his. Therefore, this was Emma's last chance to win. Whether there was something wrong with her drinks or not, she must not lose the game.

With the determination to win, Emma did not hesitate to gulp down the shot.

Then, she lifted her eyes to look at the man. However, before she could declare her victory, she blacked out completely.

The dim wall lamps shone upon the woman lying in the snow-white, king-sized bed. Her dress was taken off and replaced by a white nightgown, which made her fit into the bed perfectly.

Wilson pushed open the door and came in. Seeing the woman sleeping quietly like a baby, he curled up his lips into a somewhat doting arc. Although his expression remained frosty, the look in his eyes softened a lot.

He walked up to the bedside but did not sit down. Instead, he reached out his broad palm to gently lifted the woman's nightgown.

Although the woman was wearing pants under the nightgown, movements like these made by a noble, standoffish, arrogant, and domineering man gave off an evil ambiguous vibe.

Usually, after lifting the nightgown, a man would directly take off those pants or at least expose the woman's breasts to appreciate.

However, Wilson did not do anything like that.

At the sight of the reddish, moon-shaped mark on Emma's fair skin, the look in Wilson's eyes deepened.

Sure enough, it was true.

There was a red crescent birthmark around Emma's navel, which was her secret that not many people knew about.

As if Wilson's hand had currents of electricity inside, wherever he touched Emma, that part of her body would shiver slightly and then become flushed.

Emma's skin seemed to be covered by a layer of powder and was extraordinarily attractive.

If Wilson's self-control were slightly weaker, he would have pounced upon the woman.

After drinking four shots of See You Tomorrow, she would definitely sleep like a log this night.