Chapter 520

June hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, there were photos and videos of the scene. Grelle went too far. She knows how to use public opinion to hurt people, even at a young age."

Public opinion and rumors were easily manipulated, but could be a double-edged sword. This thought enraged June.

She thought, It would be different if it were someone else, but it was Grelle. Back in Melvor Mountain, Tiffany helped their family immensely. Instead of gratitude, Grelle resorted to underhanded tactics. How could anyone not hate her scheming and methods?

The angrier June became, the more she thought about it. She asked, "Tiffany, should we contact Grelle's agency directly? A celebrity like her gets too arrogant when she's successful."

"No need," Tiffany replied, shaking her head. Ascendant Entertainment, Grelle's agency, was a long-established and prestigious company with a solid foundation. It was unlikely they could be used to pressure Grelle. Furthermore, the agency head's son favored Grelle and was heavily investing in her career, aiming to make her an A-list celebrity. This approach wasn't feasible.

"Then," June pondered, "should we ask Mr. Hampton for help?" Her tone was probing and subtly ambiguous.

Tiffany sensed something and turned. June was staring at her collar, a hint of a smile in her eyes.

"Yes?" Tiffany subconsciously lowered her head. Seeing the red marks on her chest, she felt a shock. No wonder James kept looking away, and June's smile grew more ambiguous. The bright red marks, like blooming petals, were from her encounter with Richard at Royal Bay.

"Good night," Tiffany said, leaving the chessboard and rushing upstairs. She heard laughter behind her. Oh, this is so embarrassing, she thought, locking herself in her bedroom and throwing herself on the bed, face buried in the pillows.

A commotion at the window followed. She knew who it was.

Sat, Nov 23

Chapter 520

Tiffany threw a pillow at him. "It's all your fault! Why are you so ruthless? You… you…" She trailed off.

The curtains were drawn, gently brushing the floor-to-ceiling window. A tall figure cast a shadow on the floor. Richard lazily caught the pillow, tugged at the bunny ears, and walked toward the bed.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked.

Tiffany remained silent.

"Good night," he added.

Tiffany pretended to be asleep. A low chuckle filled the room. Before she could react, his arms enveloped her, flipping her over.

"I'll help you apply ointment," Richard said.

"Who needs your help? Let go!" she protested, but to no avail.

Richard waved his hand, drawing the curtains. Tiffany was mortified. June and the others saw those marks! How embarrassing!

Richard coughed. "Alright, I'll be more careful next time." He meant to be more discreet about their… activities.

Tiffany understood, furious, she pounced on him, hitting him. "Bastard!" He laughed, his eyes twinkling. Her face flushed, but as she hit him, she noticed something—Richard was reacting again. Shocked, she jumped off, hiding obediently. But a provoked Richard wouldn't let her off. The room's temperature rose. Then, Tiffany frowned, gasping for air. "No, my stomach hurts."

She rushed to the washroom. Returning, her face even redder, she said, "Oh, my period started…" Richard nodded resignedly.

Sat, Nov 23

Chapter 320 (Note: This chapter number is inconsistent with the previous chapters. It should likely be 520 or another number)

After washing, Tiffany saw it was almost midnight. "Aren't you leaving?"

"I'll be wherever my wife is," Richard replied, lazily settling into a recliner.

Tiffany patted the bed. "Then take a shower. This side's yours." Are we sleeping in the same bed? Richard thought happily. They were engaged and intimate; sleeping together was natural, though a bittersweet torture.

He hesitated for two seconds before showering. Clean clothes awaited, and Tiffany was asleep when he returned. The room was warm. She slept peacefully, her eyelashes casting shadows. Richard gently touched her face. Her skin was smooth, but a frown creased her brow.

He got into bed, turned off the lights, and hugged her from behind, his hand warmly on her abdomen, without any inappropriate thoughts. His cold face was gentle; his eyes, tender. Her frown faded.

She awoke to a bright sky. Richard was gone, but a warm hand warmer lay in her arms. It was 9:30. She stretched. He must have already left for work. She laughed remembering him covering her stomach last night.

She texted Richard: [Did you sleep well last night?]

He replied: [Not bad.] He probably didn't sleep at all, she thought, laughing.

A new message popped up: a live video of her airport encounter with Grelle, titled: [Miss Kelley went too far in bullying others. The female celebrity has been slapped several times at the airport.]