Chapter 400

If it were the latter, the answer was obvious: Richard.

The more Tiffany considered it, the more frustrated she became. The feeling of knowing some clues yet remaining in the dark and confused was unbearable. She turned over, feeling suffocated.

Suddenly, the wind outside howled more fiercely. Tiffany sensed something and looked up. She saw the man she'd been mentally cursing all day nimbly scaling her window.

Only he would attempt such an ungentlemanly feat. However, his movements were smooth, even pleasing to the eye. His noble and elegant presence remained unaffected; every movement possessed a captivating charm that made her heart race.

Tiffany glared at him, grabbed a bedside lamp, and threw it without hesitation. "Get lost!" she snapped, her mood foul.

The lamp flew with force. An ordinary person would have been smashed to a bloody pulp. But this was Richard. He casually extended a hand, effortlessly catching the lamp before calmly placing it on the coffee table. A charming, gentle smile played on his lips.

He didn't seem to want a fight, but rather…to flirt. Realizing this, Tiffany choked back a gasp. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. She grabbed the doll beside her pillow and hurled it at him. Richard caught it. Next, a pillow—thrown with both hands, a quick, rough toss intended to knock him off balance. Let's see if you can catch this! she thought.

Reaching for something else to throw, Tiffany realized she was out of ammunition. Everything within reach was gone, leaving only an empty bed.

Meanwhile, Richard remained as carefree as ever. Only the pile of objects on the table attested to Tiffany's fury.

Suffocated, Tiffany turned away, but Richard approached. Raising an eyebrow, he teased, "Madam, I don't mind you throwing yourself at me." Tiffany's eyes widened. "In your dreams!" she fumed.

She lay on the bed, burying her head under the covers—a clear sign she wanted no conversation. Even Richard, with his sharp mind, found this puzzling.

He cautiously approached and gently lifted the blanket. Tiffany flailed a hand. "Go away! Get lost!"

But a large palm gently caressed her stomach. Richard continued to massage her. "Does it hurt?"

His clear, pleasant voice sounded from beneath the covers. Stunned by his actions, Tiffany's anger instantly dissolved.

Finally, she lifted the blanket, revealing only her head, and glared at him with grievance. "Aren't you going to explain yourself?" she demanded, keeping a distance. She was tired of guessing, of the powerlessness of misunderstanding.

Fortunately, Richard was perceptive. He understood immediately. However, he seemed unsure whether to laugh or cry. "Are you jealous?" he asked.

Tiffany remained silent, but the accusation in her eyes was unmistakable.

Richard smiled and affectionately pinched her cheek. "Is it about dinner? Why didn't you ask me then?"

"You still dare ask?" Tiffany fumed, her smile insincere. "Didn't I ask? Did you answer? Stop denying it, because if you had, I wouldn't be asking now!" Richard was taken aback, then smoothly replied, "My fault. How shall I be punished, Madam?"

His devilish charm surfaced as he approached. Facing his allure, Tiffany retreated, stammering, "What are you doing? Don't come so close. Ah, it's itchy, it's itchy!"

She struggled, but it was too late. Richard silenced her with a kiss.

It wasn't sweet and gentle, but wild and domineering. Tiffany was dazed.

Only when Richard released her did she regain her senses. "Bastard! Do you think a kiss fixes everything?" she gritted her teeth.

"No, but it makes me happy," Richard's voice was hoarse, his satisfaction evident.

Before she could react, he spoke earnestly: "I knew nothing of Grandpa's decision. Upon hearing the news, I immediately rejected the invitation. What I want you to know is that I'm desperate to claim you as mine, to tell the world you're my woman. I won't let anyone interfere with our relationship. No one!"

His low, magnetic voice was even more alluring in the dim light. Tiffany's heart pounded. She tried to maintain a straight face, but her lips curved into a smile. Noticing, Richard sighed, his tone laced with disappointment and discomfort. "Madam, you've wronged me."

Tiffany hadn't expected such tenderness. She panicked, feeling guilty. "I'm sorry. I… I didn't mean to be angry, but you didn't tell me. You need to know I heard this from Wendy, and I just…sulked."

She felt the entire world knew except her. Wendy's tone had implied the Hampton family's marriage to the Saintess was unavoidable, fueling Tiffany's anxiety.

Richard chuckled softly. A cold glint flashed in his eyes. "Marriage isn't impossible. After all, the Hampton family doesn't have many things…but grandchildren."

Tiffany nearly choked. "What are you planning, Richard?" She acknowledged his ruthlessness. If the others married the Saintess, the purpose would be achieved without much effort.

She was about to press for details, but Richard shook his head and gently pinched her face. "Be good. Kids shouldn't hear this. I don't want you to have nightmares."