If that were the case, it was a miracle she had survived.

As she grew more flustered, Tiffany prepared to leave. However, just as she reached the door, she heard a click as the large, heavy door opened from the outside. A tall, noble figure, with sharp eyebrows and starry eyes, came into view.

It could only be Richard.

Tiffany subconsciously took a step back. She remembered the day she'd disguised herself and gone to the Royal Tower to make peace with him, only to be rejected. His icy words still echoed in her mind, suffocating her.

Biting her lip, Tiffany looked up and said, "I'm sorry. I was drunk last night. I don't know how I got here. I'm leaving now."

She bowed apologetically and started to leave, but he grasped her hand. In an instant, she was pressed against the wall. His handsome face leaned down. "I brought you back."

Tiffany was stunned. "But you said we should keep our distance." She was staying with Zoe yesterday; how had she ended up at the Royal Bay?

Before she could ask, Richard said slowly, "By the way, you confessed to me last night."

Tiffany's head swam. "Confessed what?"

"You said you liked me," he replied immediately.

Shock and confusion filled her pretty face.

Richard continued unhurriedly, "You said you'd fallen for me long ago and wouldn't let me go in this lifetime."

Tiffany's eyes widened. "Did I? I don't remember."

"Oh, right," Richard said, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. His gaze burned with intensity. "You even forcefully kissed me."

Tiffany shook her head in disbelief. "Really? Was I that crazy when I was drunk?" She had no memory of it at all. Only blurry, dreamlike scenes remained—scenes of her seemingly holding Richard's hand, refusing to let go, crying, and then… kissing him.

Her heart trembled. "I don't remember anything. Can I deny it?"

"You don't remember?" Richard raised an eyebrow. Gentleness and love shone in his dark eyes, drawing her in like a vortex. He smiled. "It's okay. I'll help you recover your memory."

Before Tiffany could react, his lips covered hers. The kiss was intense, a storm after a gentle rain. He seemed to want to consume her entirely.

"Ugh…" Tiffany gasped. After a moment, she patted his chest. "I… I can't breathe."

Reluctantly, Richard released her. Though glaring, her face was flushed, her soft lips rosy, her eyes clear and pure. Richard's arousal, though momentarily calmed, was rekindled. He found her intoxicating, wanting to hide her away, keep her all to himself. He admitted he'd underestimated her appeal.

Controlling himself, Richard lifted the barefoot Tiffany.

This startled her. "What are you doing?" Her gaze was wary, nervous.

Richard found this amusing. After placing her on the bed, he gently pinched her face, leaning close. "What do you think I'm going to do?"

Tiffany shook her head, afraid to answer. It was a private scene; anything could happen. She was no match for him.

Seeing her continued vigilance, Richard helplessly knelt, putting slippers on her feet, his touch unbelievably gentle.

At that moment, Garry burst in. His jaw dropped. He rubbed his eyes, disbelieving. The aloof Mr. Hampton was putting slippers on his woman!

Even Tiffany was astonished. Richard's charm was captivating, and she felt herself falling for him. She turned away, but her face was still crimson.

Garry ruined the perfect moment. Richard gave him a cold look, the gentleness gone. "Leave, or you'll go blind."

"Goodbye!" Garry fled.

Richard took Tiffany's hand. "Time to eat. Let's go downstairs."

"I'll walk myself," Tiffany said, pulling away her hand. "Who changed my clothes?"

He smiled mischievously, pausing. "Me… I asked the maid to do it."

Tiffany retracted her hand, heading downstairs. "I need to go back to school later."

"I've already applied for leave," Richard reminded her.

"Then I need to go home," Tiffany said, touching the gauze on her forehead. A new injury on top of the old one. She hadn't told her parents about the bullet wound, recuperating at school. Her leg was finally healing, but now she had a forehead wound.

At dinner, servants attended to them, offering hot towels, then discreetly leaving. Everything seemed normal, yet Tiffany sensed the servants' knowing smiles. [The final sentence regarding the website is promotional and has been omitted.]