Genius Kids' Scheme: Claiming Daddy's Billionaire Empire Chapter 170: Wine's Daring Truth

Music and chatter faded as midnight wrapped the garden in quiet. Tiny lights lined the paths while moonlight bounced off the pond and abandoned glasses.

Matthew fell into step beside Irene, gravel crunching under their feet.

"What was that about?" He nodded toward the mansion. "Wright cornered you for ages. Looked intense."

Irene shrugged. "Nothing worth repeating. She offered job connections one minute, then tried introducing me to this 'brilliant doctor' she knows the next." She shot him a look. "Apparently you're quite the catch around here."

Matthew's face hardened. "She said that? About introducing you to me?"

"Among other things." Irene waved it off. "She's got her own take on... everything."

"I didn't expect her to be so calculating." His voice dropped. "Watch yourself with her. Women like that bite when you're not looking."

"Trust me, Samantha Wright isn't keeping me up at night," Irene replied, touching his arm. "I've handled worse."

They chatted a bit longer until Matthew checked his watch and winced.

"Grandfather will send out search dogs if I don't get back," he said. "You good out here?"

"I'll survive. Go play host."

After Matthew disappeared, Irene dropped onto a bench near the pool. Alone at last. Her wineglass caught the moonlight, liquid inside dark as ink.

She watched her reflection ripple—a woman in black, looking the part of Silver City elite while feeling anything but. Five years gone, and nothing had changed—same games, same rules, same invisible lines sorting people into worthy and worthless.

Her mind kept circling back to Adam—killing a half-billion-dollar deal over lunch drama. That wasn't just being nice. It was something deeper, something that made her heart race when she let herself think about it.

She tipped back her glass without thinking, letting the Hayes vintage slide down her throat. Smooth going down, but she missed the fire building in its wake.

*What are you doing?* her inner voice snapped. *Haven't you learned? They welcome you until you no longer fit their story, then cut you loose without blinking.*

Yet Adam felt different. The man who barely grunted when they first met now sought her out, defended her when she wasn't even around. The memory of the beach—his body against hers, mask completely dropped—kept replaying uninvited.

Warmth spread through her limbs, the wine doing its work. The night didn't feel so cool anymore. She twirled the half-empty glass, lost in thought.

Adam wheeled down the path, happy to escape. The party had started to choke him—too many nosy questions, too many fake smiles hiding the hunger for Haven Enterprise secrets.

Fresh air was his excuse, but his real motivation came clear when he spotted her—Irene, alone by the water. Her black dress hugged curves usually hidden under practical clothes. Something twisted in his chest.

He'd already known about her connection to Hayes. Seeing them outside together earlier had stirred something unfamiliar—an emotion he couldn't immediately name.

Yet here he was, seeking her out rather than heading to his waiting driver.

She looked up as he approached, her smile looser than usual.

"Look who's here," she said, amusement warming her voice.

Adam moved closer, noting how moonlight caught in her eyes. "Too loud in there. Why're you hiding out here?"

Irene shook her head slightly. "Not really my scene." Each word came carefully, like she was concentrating harder than usual.

He studied her face. He got it completely—these events were performances, not gatherings. Everyone measuring words, tallying advantages, hunting weaknesses.

"Not my thing either," he admitted. "Too many obligations to dodge."

Her eyes locked with his, lingering longer than normal. Something had shifted—the wall between them seemed thinner somehow.

"Been drinking?" she asked, doctor instincts apparently intact.

His lips quirked up. "Would I dare cross my doctor?" His voice carried unusual warmth.

The air between them shifted, like oxygen turning into something harder to breathe. Irene felt heat climbing her cheeks, blaming it on the wine though she knew better.

"Haven! Found you!"

A loud voice crashed their bubble. Adam hid his annoyance as an older man approached, drink in hand.

"Lee," Adam nodded. "Been a while."

"Sure has! How's your father? Haven't seen old Marcus at the club lately."

Lee—a newer business partner—was one of the few clients Adam actually tolerated. His enthusiasm made him predictable, and Adam valued predictability in business.

Lee's attention jumped to Irene, eyes brightening as he registered their closeness.

"Is this your fiancée?" he asked, grinning. "Heard rumors you were engaged. Now I see why—she's gorgeous. You two make quite the pair."

Adam felt something flutter in his chest. He kept his face neutral, though his mind briefly sketched an unexpected picture.

"Lee's mistaken," he clarified. "Dr. Sterling is my... friend."

Silence fell, thick with awkwardness. Irene felt an odd sting at the word 'friend,' then annoyance at herself for caring.

Lee recovered quickly, raising his glass. "My mistake! Let me drink to that error and to Haven's beautiful friend."

Irene glanced at the glass lifted toward her. Refusing seemed rude, especially with Adam's business contact. She tapped her glass against his and took what she meant to be a tiny sip.

"Better get back," Lee announced, shooting Adam a knowing look. "Another time."

As his footsteps faded, Irene felt the world tilt. The Hayes vintage hit her system all at once—her earlier glass combining with this drink to create a perfect storm.

Adam caught the change immediately—the flush spreading across her cheeks, her focus slipping.

"You okay?" he asked, leaning forward.

Irene wrinkled her nose—a gesture so unexpectedly cute from someone usually composed that Adam nearly smiled.

"This wine... tastes innocent, but it's sneaky," she said, her voice softer than normal.

Adam moved closer, concern growing. "How much did you have? Thought that was just a sip."

She blinked slowly. "Finished... a whole glass earlier." Her words had slowed, each requiring more effort.

"You don't drink often, do you?" Adam asked, already knowing.

Irene shook her head, the movement slightly delayed. "Almost never."

The Hayes vintage was notorious—smooth as silk but hitting like a truck after a delay. And Irene had downed nearly two glasses.

Adam watched her grow quieter, head slightly bowed. With her guard down, she looked younger, raw. Something protective stirred in him—a feeling he'd never experienced before.

Her symptoms showed clearly—glassy eyes, flushed cheeks, slowed movements. The brilliant doctor who commanded every room had been undone by fancy wine.

Adam sighed softly, asking a question he'd never asked another soul.

He extended his hand before her face. "Look here. How many fingers?"

Irene raised her eyes to his hand, clearly processing slowly. Instead of answering, she reached out and caught his hand, her touch sending an unexpected current through him.

"Stop... moving it," she murmured, her fingers accidentally tangling with his. "Makes everything spin."

Adam found himself holding her smaller hand, warmth spreading from the contact. The feeling was strangely intimate—when had he last held someone's hand without some ulterior motive?

Irene tried standing, swaying dangerously. Adam reacted instantly, gripping her hand tighter to steady her. The movement pulled her forward, nearly into his lap. Their faces hovered inches apart, breaths mixing in the cool night.

Time froze as they locked eyes. Adam felt something shift inside him—a wall crumbling he hadn't realized existed. Her perfume mixed with wine, her warmth flowing through his hand, her eyes catching moonlight—it all hit him like a drug.

The mansion door opened, sharp heels clicking on stone. Adam felt Irene's warmth against his palm and something cracked inside him—a hunger he never knew existed suddenly wide awake and starving.