Tiffany sneered and thought, "As expected!" She had seen the scarred man in the hotel room Felix controlled on the day of her engagement party. He was among Felix's subordinates when Felix threatened her family to attack Richard. The mastermind behind Ryan's murder was clearly Felix.
Tiffany was about to uncover Felix's whereabouts when he inadvertently revealed a clue. She decided to follow it. Hatred flared in her eyes. She told Kenneth about the scarred man and his connection to Felix.
Kenneth punched the wall, his handsome face contorted with suppressed rage. "I won't let him off," he muttered, fresh blood dripping onto the white wall. His voice was soft, almost a whisper, yet unshakeable determination resonated within it.
Tiffany opened her mouth to speak but remained silent. She knew firsthand Felix's strength, experienced in that hotel room. Revenge would be difficult; he possessed the Treasure Box. Legend claimed the Treasure Box originated with the Azure Sea Royal Family's princess, somehow ending up with Romeo. Besides predicting the future, it held a mysterious power. With this power, Felix would be even more dangerous. Given his sinister nature, Tiffany feared Richard would be his first target. She frowned, made a silent decision, and looked away. The late-autumn cemetery was shrouded in a misty, elegant fog, yet the cold, hard tombstones conveyed profound sorrow. Before the funeral began, Kenneth left, the scene heavy with oppression and sorrow.
Tiffany remained seated, the place quiet and secluded. She sat on the steps, chin in her hands, pondering how to destroy Felix with minimal cost. Lost in thought, the shadow of a tall figure enveloped her.
Startled, she turned to see Richard's dark, cold eyes, like a frigid lake. Her heart skipped a beat. She stumbled backward, losing her footing and falling. She cried out, but landed on soft grass, escaping serious injury. Strong hands caught her at the waist, pulling her into a familiar embrace.
"Where are you going, you heartless little thing?" Richard murmured, his voice low and melodious, a teasing tone.
Tiffany's nose twitched, her eyes reddening. Sleepless nights, condemned by countless people, she felt undeserving of feeling wronged. Expecting disgust or hatred, she found neither. It was as if the stabbing incident never happened.
Holding back tears, she whispered, "Are you alright? How are your injuries?" She hadn't seen him since the engagement party.
"Truth or a lie?" Richard asked, loosening his grip but still holding her.
Tiffany wondered what he could lie about; could there be complications? Her heart pounded. "The truth, of course," she urged.
Before she could check his wounds, he kissed her forcefully, his hand on her heart. His deep voice resonated, "It won't get better without you."
A tear escaped. "I'm sorry," she choked out.
Richard responded with another passionate kiss. The weather was hazy. Richard and Tiffany were intimately entwined, a beautiful yet tragic scene.
Grelle, watching from afar, sobbed silently. How can this be…? she thought. She had desperately tried to win Richard's attention, waiting at Royal Bay for a day, then again at the mountain's foot in the rain, only to witness this. Tiffany again! she thought, That woman doesn't cherish him, and he still can't let her go! Jealousy consumed her; she envisioned a world without Tiffany. Distraught, she bumped into someone, falling and cutting her hand. The pain brought her back to reality. That's right, she thought, as long as Tiffany isn't around… Hatred and jealousy hardened her face.
Tiffany, finally released from Richard's embrace, had flushed cheeks and watery eyes.