Dahlia Nicholson and Dustin Rhys

Chapter 32

The wines were quickly unboxed for everyone’s viewing pleasure.

“Teh, and here I thought they were decent quality. Looks like these are just craft brews, worth no more t

han two thousand dollars, I bet.” James had a look of disdain on his

face. “How could these compare to Grand Crus?”

“Craft brews have long lost their value on the market. We don’t even give our servants. these!” someon

e exclaimed,

Craft brews weren’t actually that terrible in terms of quality, but they were nothing compared to Grand C

rus.

“What a cheapskate!” Florence scoffed,

“How are craft brews cheap when they’ve been on the rise in the country? Is your taste. in fine wine onl

y limited to those brewed overseas?” Dustin casually responded.

“How is it not cheap when they cost only a couple thousand? Chris‘ wines cost more

than 100 thousand dollars.” James rolled his eyes.

“Wines don’t have to be expensive to be good. Plus, you don’t know how much exactly

my wines cost.”

“Are you still trying to make a comeback?” James sneered.

Florence scowled. “Hmph! So damn stubborn, that one.”

“I’m not going to waste any more of my time trying to explain to people who won’t listen to reason,” Dus

tin said. He really didn’t want to waste his breath any longer.

“That’s enough. What matters most is the flavor, not the cost. I prefer whites over reds. anyway.” Henry

finally interrupted, popped open one of the craft brews, and poured himself a glass.

“Wait, why is it so yellow? Shouldn’t craft brews be pale white?”

“It’s murky too! It isn’t fake, is it?”

“My goodness, bringing fake wine to dinner! What kind of person would do that?”

The people started whispering to each other upon seeing the yellow liquid in the old man’s glass.

“Now you’ve really done it! How dare you mock us all with this sham of a gift?!”

Florence cried, slamming the table with one hand. All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

“What if something happens to us after drinking it?!”

“I never expected him to be so evil! Is he trying to poison us all or what?”

A commotion broke out at the table in an instant.

Cheap wine was already embarrassing enough, but fake wine? That was a conspiracy waiting to happe

n!

Not even the old man knew how to calm the situation down now. He never drank much

craft brews, but even he knew it was supposed to be a pale, nearly transparent color. Yet the wine Dust

in had brought was not only yellow; it even seemed opaque.

It didn’t look like anything good.

“This is how fine–aged craft brews usually turn out to look like,” Dustin explained.

“Bullshit!” James cried. “Do you think we’re idiots? No wine looks like this! It’s piss,

that’s all it is!”

“Yeah! Why do you continue to lie through your teeth?” Florence huffed.

Chris shook his head with faux empathy. “Oh, Dustin. You should’ve told me if you couldn’t bring anythi

ng to the table. I could’ve given you a bottle or two for show. Why would you want to drag us down like t

his?”

His words seemed kind, but in truth, he was leaping for joy internally. Dustin truly was no match for him.

His victory over this family nearly felt effortless.

“I don’t care if you trust me or not. All I can say is this wine is genuine and as good as they come,” Dust

in reaffirmed.

“Whoa, what a crowd!”

Suddenly, a man appeared in the doorway, still dressed in his business suit, holding several gifts.

“Dad? You’re back from your trip already?” James gasped.

It was John Nicholson, Dahlia’s father.

“Well, the deal was a success, so I came home carly.” John smiled. The wines on the

table caught his attention. “Oh, is that La Romanee? It’s a recent brew I think, but it must cost at least 1

00 thousand dollars a bottle, am I right?”

“Good on you, Dad! You’re right!” James beamed.

“Dear, Chris brought this over for dinner. Isn’t he sweet?” Florence spoke up, then she turned to glare a

t Dustin. “Unlike some people who tried to poison all of us with fake wine!”

“Fake wine?” John exclaimed.

“Yeah, look!” James showed his father the glass of yellow liquid. “Dustin brought this over for dinner. If

we hadn’t noticed in time, God knows what would’ve happened to us if we drank it.”

John took a close whiff of the wine, then tossed the entire glass down in one go.

“Dad, what are you doing? Don’t drink that! You’ll kill yourself!” James yelled.

Yet John seemed to be reveling in the taste of the wine. “A smooth, creamy body, followed by a heady fi

nish, this isn’t fake. This is a priceless aged craft brew!” “What?!” Everyone gasped.