Kenneth winced in pain. "Damn! Tiffany's so ruthless!" he thought. Tiffany's kick had landed squarely where it hurt most, instantly quelling his overwhelming urges. He went pale and gasped.

Now, Tiffany was free. Her fiery eyes glared at Kenneth, burning with intensity. "I can completely ruin you, you know that?" she spat. Her fury was palpable; the kick had been as powerful as her rage allowed, though she'd held back enough to avoid irreversible damage. After all, serious injury to the sole heir of the Harper family would unleash hell.

Kenneth recovered, but the potent drug in his system quickly rekindled his lust. His eyes, clear only moments before, darkened with renewed intensity as he stared at Tiffany with a ferocity that matched her own.

"You're my fiancée," Kenneth ground out through clenched teeth. "Isn't it only right that I touch you?"

Tiffany laughed bitterly; the irony was almost unbearable. She hadn't kicked him hard enough. She should have ended it then and there.

"If you're sick, get treated. If you're desperate, find Sandra. I'm sure she'd be more than happy to oblige," Tiffany said, leaving the art room.

But Kenneth wouldn't let her go so easily. He wanted to explain that escaping Sandra's grasp and encountering Tiffany was pure coincidence. He didn't dare examine why he'd run from Sandra, why he'd resisted even on the verge of losing control. He couldn't, wouldn't, think about it deeply.

Finally, with a tortured expression, Kenneth pleaded, "Help me."

Tiffany prided herself on her strong will, especially concerning Kenneth. He didn't deserve a reaction, let alone her help. "Help him? What am I supposed to do? Hand him over? Laughable!" she sneered.

However, they were still on campus. If Tiffany left, Kenneth might follow, creating a scene neither could afford. She didn't want to be dragged down with him in a public display of insanity.

Gritting her teeth, Tiffany suppressed her anger. "Fine. Do you want my help? Come here!" she snarled, grabbing Kenneth by the collar and dragging him to the back of the art room.

In the corner was a large sink, always filled with murky water. Tiffany shoved Kenneth into it unceremoniously. "Stay there and cool off," she said. "You can come out when your head's clear."

Kenneth tried to climb out several times, his drug-fueled lust driving him, but each time Tiffany knocked him back with a chair.

Twenty minutes later, Kenneth blinked his eyes open, his gaze clear and lucid. Tiffany dropped the chair, cast one last disdainful glance at him, and left.

Kenneth remained in the sink, water dripping from his hair, dazed. Though his mind had been clouded by drugs, he was fully aware of what had happened. "How do I end up wanting her?" he wondered, bewildered. "If it had been any other girl, would I have reacted the same way?"

He fell silent, lost in thought. Stepping out of the room, he found the once pristine art space in complete disarray. Tiffany's serene painting of a peaceful town was smeared with muddy footprints—ruined.

Later, Zoe's eyes widened in disbelief. "Tiffany, did you get into a fight with the paint? What happened?"

Tiffany's lips twitched. "I'm incredibly unlucky."

It was rare to get a free gym period. Zoe suggested badminton, but Tiffany, preferring painting, went to the art room instead. "Who would've thought my spur-of-the-moment decision would attract Kenneth," she thought.

"Forget it. I'll head back and change," Tiffany said, refusing to explain to Zoe. But she couldn't help thinking about Sandra. Kenneth's drugged state screamed Sandra's involvement. "Useless," she thought. "Even with all that, Sandra still can't get what she wants."

Zoe offered to walk her back to the dorm, but Tiffany declined. She returned alone, heading straight for a change of clothes.

As Tiffany entered the dorm building, the situation became even more awkward. She and Kenneth arrived at the apartment simultaneously, both stained with the same paint.

Sandra was already there, apologizing profusely to Kenneth, claiming her actions stemmed from love, that she was a foolish girl trying to prove her feelings. Normally, a guy would be flattered, but today, Tiffany's arrival coincided with Sandra's over-the-top apology. Sandra instantly noticed the matching paint stains.

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "You two were together just now?"

Kenneth, though changed into clean clothes, still felt humiliated. He couldn't look at Tiffany, fearing disgust or loathing in her eyes.

Neither answered Sandra. Her voice rose to a shrill crescendo. "Were you two together? What did you do? What happened? Answer me!"

With a furious scream, Sandra lunged at Tiffany. "You b****!"

Sandra could tolerate failure, but not that her efforts would ultimately benefit someone else. She was about to hit Tiffany when Kenneth intervened, shouting, "Enough!"

It was the first time he'd spoken to Sandra so harshly. Her tears fell instantly. "Kenneth, you don't like me anymore, do you? You're falling in love with her now, aren't you?"

Sandra jabbed a finger at Tiffany. Kenneth's expression was cold. He finally said, "I don't."

Sandra wanted to scream, but stopped herself. She nodded, clinging to Kenneth, murmuring, "I know it. I know you still love me," repeatedly.

Tiffany had no interest in the drama but, since they blocked her path, she simply stepped around them, heading to her room without a glance. "Not worth it," she thought.

But as Sandra watched Tiffany go, a dark seed of hatred took root. "No one can take what's mine," she thought. As Tiffany disappeared, Sandra’s face twisted into a sinister smile. She would use this time—unable to return to the Kelley family—to take Tiffany’s family out one by one, with the perfect alibi.

Sandra laughed quietly. "I don't want to do this, but you've given me no choice. Tiffany, you're the one who pushed me to this."