The day of the celebration dawned.

Raegan, adorned in a resplendent red dress paired with a gray fur coat, exuded elegance and allure.

Davey, who hadn't made a public appearance for quite some time, made his entrance at the celebration.

In Aurora's social hierarchy, invitations from influential families like the Cliffords and Maxwells were obligatory, with failure to attend considered a severance of ties.

Thus, Davey's arrival promptly thrust him into the spotlight.

Clad in an uncharacteristic cream-colored velvet suit, he exuded the facade of a scholar, though Raegan knew better than to be deceived by his scholarly facade. His true character often betrayed itself in unguarded moments.

For some inexplicable reason, Raegan always felt apprehensive in Davey's presence, especially since he tended to fixate his gaze on her upon arrival, lingering uncomfortably long.

Concealed within Raegan's pearl earring, an earpiece relayed Erick's voice. They had already rendered all of Davey's security personnel and servants incapacitated within his villa.

They had also halted the surveillance footage, programming it to replay every ten minutes, a measure that wouldn't arouse suspicion unless Davey scrutinized the surveillance screen extensively.

To prevent Davey from having any opportunity to review the surveillance, Raegan approached him.

“Mr. Glyn." Approaching with an empty wine glass, Raegan expressed her gratitude in a courteous tone, “Thanks a lot for joining us for the babies' celebration."

Davey responded with a gracious nod, "Miss Foster, you're too kind."

Raegan, noticing his empty hands, gestured to a servant with a pretense of annoyance. “What's going on? Why hasn't Mr. Glyn been served any wine?"

Apologies streamed from the servant as he swiftly poured a glass for Davey, who made no move to take it. The servant stood, holding the glass aloft.

A nod from Davey prompted the servant to place the glass on a nearby surface.

Once the servant had placed the glass down, Raegan directed, “Refill it, please."

The servant refilled Raegan's glass, and she raised it toward Davey, saying, "Here's to you, Mr. Glyn."

As if showcasing the safety of the drink, she downed it in one gulp.

As she finished, Raegan's heart raced. The wine had been laced with a substance inducing sleep for hours. Having preemptively taken an antidote, she could prove they shared the same bottle, a ploy to lower Davey's guard.

Dealing with someone as shrewd as Davey, mere conversation posed risks, rendering him immobile was the safest recourse.