The spacious, bright office offered a sweeping view of Lovell City from its top-floor vantage point. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a quiet stillness over the room. In front of the massive desk sat neat piles of paperwork, a few open contracts, and a pen discarded to the side. The coffee on the desk was long cold.

Tiffany glanced up. At last, she saw him—a tall figure with his back to her, his face partially visible as he rested his eyes. From her angle, she could only see his sharp, defined profile. His furrowed brows and tightly pressed lips exuded a cool detachment; his jawline radiated an aloofness that kept others at a distance. The top two buttons of his black shirt were undone, revealing his Adam's apple—a sight that stirred thoughts of intrigue. Despite his relaxed posture, he possessed an innate air of nobility. He was devastatingly handsome.

Tiffany found herself momentarily entranced.

Without lifting his eyelids, Richard said coldly, "Put it down. Leave." His words were commanding, brooking no argument.

Snapping out of her daze, Tiffany cautiously pushed the meal cart forward. The spacious office, besides the huge desk and bookshelf, contained a guest sofa, a clean dining table, and a private resting area further back. Mindful of his personal space, Tiffany stopped at the dining table, carefully placing each dish and uncovering the lids. Every dish, crafted by a top-tier chef, filled the air with a divine aroma. It smelled incredible, and Tiffany swallowed hard. It was noon, and she hadn't eaten anything.

Though tempted, she knew better than to touch anything with Richard’s keen awareness. Reluctantly, she began pushing the cart away. But after all the trouble she'd gone to, she wasn't ready to leave after simply delivering the food. She stood by Richard's desk, searching for the right words. Before she could speak, Richard swiveled his chair, opened his eyes, and the cold gleam in them sent shivers down her spine.

"I—" Tiffany disguised her voice, but Richard interrupted, tossing several bills onto the desk. It seemed he was giving her a tip. Tiffany was stunned.

Seeing her hesitation, Richard's gaze sharpened. His impatience was evident as he coldly asked, "What? Not enough?" It was obvious he wanted her gone.

Tiffany shook her head. "It's enough, but…"

Grasping for an excuse to stay, she said, "But I'll need to clear the dishes later. Mr. Hampton, please enjoy your meal before it gets cold."

"That won't be necessary," Richard rejected her instantly, his impatience clear. He could tell what she was thinking; he found her attempt to get close to him revolting.

Still, Tiffany lingered. Richard stood, casting a cold glance her way. He warned, "Leave. Don't make me say it a third time." The moment he rose, a wave of pressure filled the room.

Sensing danger, Tiffany instinctively stepped back, fearing he might throw her out. In her retreat, she forgot about the meal cart, her leg colliding with its sharp corner. Pain shot through her injured leg.

Tiffany's face contorted in pain as she struggled to stay on her feet. Her wound, never fully healed, had required crutches until today, which she'd abandoned before sneaking in. Now, she'd paid the price, re-injuring herself. The searing pain tore through her, her body trembling. Blood began to trickle down her thigh. The agony was overwhelming. Unable to hold herself up, Tiffany broke into a cold sweat and collapsed onto the floor, appearing weak and anguished. Her carefully maintained facade crumbled. Her eyes gazed at Richard with a mix of accusation and helplessness; she looked like a stray kitten who'd been mercilessly bullied.

Richard frowned. Despite her being a stranger, there was an odd sense of familiarity, especially with her beautiful eyes and injured leg. A sudden, almost impossible thought struck him. His expression shifted instantly.

Without hesitation, Richard strode forward, his face calm, but inside, a wave of anticipation and excitement he couldn't suppress stirred. As he knelt, a faint, fresh scent reached his nose. He was certain: the girl was Tiffany. Because he hadn't sought her out, she'd come to the Royal Tower this way.

Kneeling beside Tiffany, Richard pulled up her skirt to check the injury. Tiffany wanted to stop him, but it was too late. "Don't—"

A cool breeze swept over her as her floral dress was lifted slightly, exposing the wound and its bloodstained bandages. The severity was evident. Richard's face darkened, his anger growing.

Realizing her cover was blown, Tiffany tugged his sleeve and whispered, "Don't be mad. It… it really doesn't hurt."

Richard thought, Doesn't hurt? It sure as hell hurts me! His fury intensified. He scooped her up and placed her on the sofa. Then, he made a quick call, summoning Sidney.

Sidney arrived soon after, grumbling, "What's going on? I was in the middle of something when you rushed me over here." But as soon as he saw the young woman on the sofa—not as breathtaking as Tiffany, but delicate and charming—he paused, glancing at Richard with bewilderment.

"Richard, you've already moved on? And with a girl this young?"

For weeks, Sidney had watched Richard's unpredictable temper, miserable for those who worked under him, all because of his cold war with Tiffany. But this unfamiliar girl, full of innocent energy, sat in Richard's office without being kicked out—unheard of.

Sidney couldn't help but marvel, blurting out, "Wow, Richard, if I'd known you were into this type, I would've found someone for you earlier—"

Before he could finish, he received a swift kick. Richard shot him a sharp look and growled, "Shut up and check her injury."

"Okay," Sidney quickly composed himself, his usual carefree attitude replaced with professionalism as he examined Tiffany's leg. "There's bleeding. To prevent infection, we need to clean the wound and apply medication. It's going to sting a bit, so hang in there." With that, he began treating the injury.

Tiffany remained quiet throughout, not uttering a single word of complaint despite the pain. Instead, she kept her eyes fixed on Richard, hoping to soothe his anger. Her pleading, playful expression conveyed her desperate desire for his forgiveness.