Rosalie and Byron walked to the 16th building as written on the address.

It was a villa with three-and-a-half stories that was located in the suburbs and cost less than ten million.

Outside the villa was a yard surrounded by an iron fence. Lights were brightly lit on the second floor, and Violet was obviously still awake.

Rosalie put on a gloomy expression and rang the doorbell.

Before long, someone shouted from inside, “Who's at the door in the middle of the night?”

Rosalie’s pupils constricted, alarmed. It was a male’s voice, and she was familiar with it. That man must be Ethan.

Ethan smelled like alcohol as he approached the gate. When he saw Rosalie’s face through the bars, he was startled. Then, he saw Byron, who had a cold expression on his face.

The husband and wife could see Ethan’s expression changing under the dim streetlight.

“Rosalie? Why are you here at this hour?” Ethan’s voice sounded less aggressive than just now. He seemed more sober.

“Open the gate. I came to