As soon as Dylan and Kevan took their seats, one of the groom's relatives approached them. He offered them cigarettes, trying to get on their good side.

"It's such an honor to meet you, Mr. Rogers, Mr. Shields," he said in a flattering way.

Kevan remained aloof and motionless, leaving the person's hand hanging awkwardly.

The atmosphere became somewhat uncomfortable.

Dylan quickly but politely declined the offer.

"Sorry, we don't smoke."

Unlike Kevan's distant demeanor, Dylan continued to smile. This made him the primary focus of the conversation.

The man was quite chatty and skilled at flattery.

Dylan struggled to hold back his urge to send him away. Finally, he managed to find a tactful excuse to dismiss him.

As he turned back, he caught Kevan's smug smile. His anger surged.

"It's all your fault. How can you still laugh about it?" he retorted.

"What's there to feel bad about?" Kevan replied, nonchalantly crossing his arms.

"He approached us because of you. And what di