?Chapter 1189:


    “I do not usually put my cooking skills on disy,” he said, smirking as he ted a serving. “Corrine, try it and let me know what you think.”


    Corrine epted the te and sampled a piece. The seasoning was spot on—bnced yet subtle, allowing the meat’s natural vors to shine through. She chewed thoughtfully before nodding. “Not bad.”


    A few feet away, Hawk leaned back, beer bottle in hand, his sharp gaze fixed on her. “You normally hate this, do you not?” he asked.


    He was not wrong. Corrine had always despised the smell ofmb, refusing to touch it in the past. Yet here she was, taking small, deliberate bites.


    Setting the te down, she responded in a quiet voice, “I can manage a little.”


    Hawk’s expression darkened. He ced his beer aside and, without hesitation, took the te from her. “You do not have to force yourself,” he said, voice firm. “Since when did you start makingpromises for others?”


    They had always treated her with care, shielding her from difort without a second thought. If she disliked something, they avoided it. For over a year, no one had even suggestedmb at their gatherings.


    Yet now, she was the one adjusting.


    That did not sit well with him.


    Hawk’s seemingly casual remark did not go unnoticed. Across the fire, Rosalie’s attention sharpened. Her fingers tightened around the beer can as she took a swig, eyes gleaming with veiled contempt.


    A natural seductress.


    From Vulture to Hawk—who else in the Red me organization had been tangled up with Corrine? Maybe every man.


    The thought fueled her disdain. A beautiful woman with a striking figure, constantly surrounded by men… It was obvious, wasn’t it? She had to be the type who relied on charm rather than skill.


    The alcohol blurred the edges of her reasoning, making her thoughts spiral unchecked.


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    Corrine’s cold, aloof mask—it was an act, nothing more. A performance designed to fool those around her.


    Rosalie’s nails dug into the metal of the can before she mmed it onto the table with a loud clunk, shattering the hum of conversation.


    Heads turned.


    She cleared her throat, feigning nonchnce. “Enough of just sitting around. Let’s do something fun.”


    Moses perked up, eager for a change. “What do you have in mind? Drinking games? Dice?”


    Rosalie’s lips curved in a slow, almost smug smile. “We always y those.” Her tone carried an air of challenge,ced with something unspoken.


    Her gaze drifted deliberately toward Corrine. “Miss Hond, since this is your first time here, why don’t you suggest something?” she asked, her voice deceptively smooth.


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