Richard’s body radiated menace. His pitch-black eyes were sharp as blades. “How dare you? You assaulted my woman.”

The middle-aged man froze, his vision blackening. “What? Your… your woman?”

“Get lost.” Richard advanced, his expression cold. He stopped before the locked interrogation room, wondering about her condition inside. His frown deepened.

A palpable tension filled the huge building; the air was frigid. Tiffany heard a noise and looked up. The door exploded inward with a loud bang.

She gasped. When she looked again, the cold-faced man stood over the shattered door, a scene echoing her kidnapping months before. He had appeared then, too, seemingly emerging from the shadows. Tiffany blinked, almost convinced it was a hallucination.

The sight of blood on her mouth ignited Richard's fury. A terrifying aura emanated from him, chilling the room. Those behind him trembled, nearly falling.

Through gritted teeth, Richard demanded, “Did you beat her?”

Her hair was disheveled, her face swollen, bright red finger marks on her slender neck—evidence of a strangulation attempt.

No one dared answer. To do so meant certain death. Everyone trembled, holding their breath. They knew Richard Hampton’s power; he could shake Lovell City with a single command. Yet, this powerful man declared, “This is the woman I cherish. How dare you touch her!”

The statement shocked everyone. Mr. Hampton, rumored to avoid women, had spoken these words for a woman. They had all offended him. They remembered his previous rage, the city's turmoil, the hurricane that had calmed, leaving countless casualties in its wake. No one dared defy him now.

Even Tiffany was surprised. Her heart throbbed. She instinctively reached for his hand, her wrist scraping against her handcuffs. The oily middle-aged man rushed forward, ingratiatingly offering to unlock them.

“Get away!” Richard, suppressing his anger, glared at him. He then personally forced the handcuffs open with his strength, bending the hardened steel.

Tiffany was free. “I’m fine,” she said, turning her wrist and smiling.

“Let’s go.” Richard put his arm around her waist, his heart aching at the sight of her swollen face, worrying about unseen injuries.

Tiffany refused to leave. “Wait, I haven’t proven my innocence.” Her departure, even with Richard, risked ruining her reputation and harming him.

She removed a brooch. “Look at this. Do you know what it is?” She smiled knowingly, like a proud girl whose plan had worked.

Richard looked, his eyebrows rising. “Is this… a miniature camera?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed. Having anticipated interaction with Sandra at the wedding, she'd been prepared. The camera alone wasn't enough; it looked like an ordinary insect, insufficient proof. However, Sandra's foolish boasting provided the necessary evidence. All accusations against Tiffany were invalid.

Richard was astonished. Admiring her sly smile, his dark eyes softened. “So I didn’t need to come?”

“No,” Tiffany blinked, smiling sweetly. “But thank you. I might have been beaten worse.” It was true. Without Richard, Sandra might have resorted to extremes, even with Miss Hart's intervention, leaving Tiffany severely injured.

Tiffany glanced at the trembling middle-aged man. “Oh, right, this man. He colluded with Sandra, letting her in and guarding her.”

Cold sweat poured from the man's forehead; his legs weakened.

Richard’s indifferent voice cut through the air. “I see. Dispose of him.” His words decided the man's fate.

John nodded. “Yes,” he replied; no one who harmed someone Richard cared for would be spared.

Richard took the brooch. “Leave this to me. Handle the rest. I won’t interfere.” He would clear the accusations, granting Tiffany freedom to deal with her enemies. He wouldn't interfere; he knew she wasn't fragile, dependent on him. She had her own wings, and he would let her fly. But he would always be there.

Tiffany blinked. He truly understood her.

“It’s late. I’ll drive you home. Your family must be worried,” Richard said, smiling.

“Okay.” Tiffany took his hand. “You’re the best!”

Richard's face remained serious until, in the car, he pulled her into his arms. His breath warmed her skin. Before she could react, his kiss landed on her lips.

(Note: I have removed the website promotion URLs. They were disruptive to the flow of the text and are irrelevant to the editing task.)