Chapter 570

Their silhouettes stretched long shadows beneath the fading light of the setting sun. The henchmen, accustomed to such scenes, remained composed. Even when they saw Richard bending to help Tiffany with her shoes, they no longer reacted with disbelief, as they once had. Countless displays of affection had inured them to such sights.

The private plane ascended slowly. Nightfall arrived, and a meteor streaked across the heavens. Two and a half hours later, the private jet landed at Royal Bay.

John entered the lounge and said respectfully, "Mr. Hampton, we've arrived."

Richard held up a finger to signal silence. John froze. Looking again, he saw Tiffany fast asleep, nestled in Richard's arms. Understanding immediately, John quietly withdrew.

Richard looked down at Tiffany, who slept soundly, curled contentedly against him. Her face was soft and innocent in its vulnerability. The sight melted his heart and filled him with warmth and protectiveness. He smiled faintly and gently kissed her forehead. "Little lazybones, we're home."

Tiffany stirred, her hand slapping lightly against his chin. Her sleep-muffled voice carried a hint of irritation. "Quiet!"

She was clearly still half-asleep. Richard paused, then chuckled softly. Tiffany clearly had a temper, even in her sleep. It made sense; during her brief three-day stay with the Azure Sea Royal Family, she had endured constant stress. She had been pursued by Morwen's assassins, learned of her grandfather's declining health, and discovered betrayal by those she trusted. She had placed her faith in James, only to be deeply hurt. After all these blows, her body and heart were exhausted.

"Sleep…" Richard gently stroked her cheek, his eyes filled with tenderness. He carefully picked her up and walked steadily toward his villa.

The next morning, sunlight streamed into the room. Tiffany, still groggy, rolled over and touched something hard. She opened her eyes to find Richard, dressed in pajamas and propped on his elbow, watching her with a sly smile.

"You…" Tiffany froze. "Didn't I go home? Why are you in Royal Bay?"

"Wasn't it you who held me in your arms last night and promised you'd never leave me again?" Richard raised an eyebrow, silencing her. "What? Sleep with me and then act like you don't know me?"

Tiffany recoiled. "How dare I?" She couldn't blame anyone; she had been swept away by Richard's charm and found herself unable to leave his side.

"Anyway," Tiffany added, rubbing her nose, "I'll get used to it."

'What?' Richard thought. From the way she said it, she almost sounds reluctant to be with me?

Richard's face darkened. He rolled over, pinning her beneath him, his tone cold and firm. "In that case, get used to it again, then?"

"Rascal!" Tiffany tried to pull away, but to no avail.

The sun blazed overhead. It wasn't until mid-afternoon that Tiffany finally emerged from the room, after a shower, moving stiffly. Her waist ached from their "bed exercises," but she felt different—energized, as if she could run across Royal Bay. It was odd. She frowned but dismissed it. She dragged Richard downstairs for lunch.

After lunch, Richard's phone rang incessantly. Work had piled up during his absence. Tiffany wiped her mouth and stood. "Why don't you go to the office? I need to go home, too."

Besides home, there was school. Her suspension had ended a week ago, and she needed to return. She also wondered about Melody and Avianna, the makeup artist who had suffered a miscarriage after Melody's violent attack.

Lost in thought, she saw Richard bending down, his handsome face close to hers, his dark eyes teasing. Tiffany reluctantly leaned forward and kissed him quickly, asking nonchalantly, "Is this okay?"

"Sure," Richard chuckled softly, turning to instruct John. "Take Mrs. Hampton home."

"Yes, Mr. Hampton," John replied.

Richard left for the office. "Mrs. Hampton, please get in the car," John said, opening the door.

Twenty minutes later, they arrived at Cedar Ridge Villa.

As Tiffany stepped from the car, she saw her adoptive father sitting listlessly on a stone bench. His eyes were fixed on the road, glancing up only briefly at passing cars, then looking away if the occupant wasn't her. He was only watching the road from the airport side and hadn't noticed the car behind him.

Tiffany was amused and touched. She quietly approached, covering his eyes before he could react. "Who am I?"

Even her closest relatives couldn't recognize her when she altered her appearance; her voice changed as well. But this time, Charlie responded instantly. "It's my precious daughter!" His tone was certain.

Tiffany giggled, removing her hand. "Dad, I'm back!"

"It's good to have you back!" Charlie's eyes were red, his expression relieved but also frustrated. He had worried she might leave and never return, or that she might never call him "Dad" again. Seeing her, he knew she hadn't forgotten them.

Tiffany's heart softened. She hugged him, smiling. "I want french fries! Could you make some?"

"Of course!" He was more than happy to oblige.

"Come on, go inside!" Charlie said.

Tiffany entered the villa. Everything remained unchanged. The warmth and comfort felt like home. She brushed away a tinge of sadness and hurried to the kitchen to help Charlie.