On the way, Zoe hummed, “Tiffany, I bet your fiancé is going to regret this sooner or later.”

“How can he not regret ignoring Tiffany and trying to please that woman? If that’s not being blind, what is?” Zoe thought.

Tiffany smiled, remaining silent. Whether Kenneth would regret it mattered little to her. What truly mattered was the regret she felt whenever she remembered her past foolishness.

At the staircase, after Tiffany and Zoe had gleefully insulted Kenneth and Sandra, and were about to leave, an enraged Kenneth looked ready to chase them.

Sandra bit her lip, resentment flashing in her eyes. As a woman, she understood the subtext. Especially since Kenneth's promise of support yesterday, she wondered if he genuinely wanted to protect her or if he was using it as an excuse to oppose Tiffany.

“Men are all the same,” Sandra thought. “Never satisfied with devotion, always drawn to those who play hard to get.”

Sandra gritted her teeth. Whether Tiffany's cold attitude was genuine or a tactic didn't matter. The title of Mrs. Harper was hers.

Seeing Kenneth about to pursue them, Sandra quickly devised a plan.

“Kenneth,” Sandra called weakly, then fainted.

“Sandra!” Kenneth caught her instantly.

Half an hour later, after a visit to the school clinic confirming only mild hypoglycemia, Kenneth carried Sandra to her dorm room. After laying her down, he said, “I’ll get some food. Drink this water and wait for me, alright?”

“Okay,” Sandra replied sweetly, her heart warming.

As soon as Kenneth left, Sandra sat up, retrieving pre-prepared pills. She dissolved them in a glass of water.

Soon, Kenneth returned with two meals, intending to eat with her. After they finished, Sandra offered him the now-cold water, saying gently, “Drink more water.”

Kenneth drank it unsuspectingly. After cleaning up, Sandra excused herself to take out the trash. Upon returning, she locked the apartment door.

It was early afternoon; Tiffany wouldn't be back yet. This was Sandra's chance.

Timing the drug's effect, Sandra leaned closer to Kenneth. “I’m still dizzy. Could you help me to my room?”

The walk was short, but Kenneth, ever the gentleman, obliged. However, upon entering the bedroom, Sandra quickly shut the door.

Kenneth turned, puzzled, to see Sandra unbuttoning her shirt, revealing a lacy camisole and pale skin.

Despite the drug's effect, Kenneth's remaining rationality caused him to frown. “What are you doing?”

Sandra continued undressing, approaching him. “Kenneth, you have no idea how much I love you. From the moment I first saw you, my heart has belonged to you.”

According to Sandra's plan, things should have progressed smoothly. No man could resist such advances, especially when drugged.

But to Sandra's shock, Kenneth pushed her away and bolted from the room. He quickly unlatched the door and stormed out.

Sandra almost fell. Staring at the door in disbelief, she bit her lip, unable to stop the tears.

Sandra had meticulously planned this, sacrificing pride and reason, to secure Kenneth and her future as Mrs. Harper. But she received only ridicule—a colossal joke!

Sandra slumped to the floor, resentful and powerless, slowly rebuttoning her clothes.

Meanwhile, Kenneth stumbled out of the apartment, his consciousness fading. Fighting to remain alert, he avoided attention and sought refuge. Staying would have been safer, but he feared succumbing to Sandra's advances. He fled.

Dodging people, he spotted the art studio building. With afternoon classes elsewhere, it would likely be empty. He could hide there until the drug wore off.

Kenneth climbed the stairs and entered quietly. He considered this the most humiliating moment of his life.

But it was about to get worse. Someone was inside.

A slim figure sat on a stool, engrossed in painting. Under vibrant brushstrokes, a whimsical town thrived.

The painter's profile was breathtakingly beautiful. Her graceful neck seemed sculpted from marble. She looked like a work of art.

Kenneth, entranced, approached and embraced her. Tiffany, engrossed in her painting, hadn't heard him. Her reflexes were sharp; she kicked him in the face.

They stared at each other, surprised. Tiffany snapped, “Kenneth, have you lost your damn mind? Get out, now!”

Instead of retreating, Kenneth lunged again, attempting to kiss her. Tiffany slapped him hard, shouting, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Her blows left red marks. Anyone else would have been enraged. But Kenneth didn't back down. He grabbed her wrists, pinning her against the table, leaning in to kiss her.

In his drugged state, Kenneth focused only on Tiffany's face and lips.

However, just as his lips neared hers, a sharp pain struck his groin. He doubled over in agony.

(Note: The spurious website promotion has been removed.)