Anger surged through Dylan. He touched the wound on his head, grimacing instantly in pain.

He thought, "Damn Valerie. I initially thought she was Mr. Grant's wife, so I showed her respect. But she isn't even married. Just wait and see. I won't let Valerie off easily!"

Dylan looked around, formulating a plan. He sinisterly summoned the hotel staff and requested two plastic bags. He then put the mouth of the vase into the plastic bags.

He thought, "Valerie used this vase to smash my head. Her fingerprints are definitely on it. Daring to hit me, huh? I'll sue her until she regrets it!"

"Honey, let's go back to Kranson City Hospital," he said. "I want to get my injury checked."

To ensure the wound worsened, Dylan endured the pain of applying warm water to it, preventing it from healing. Then, he took his wife and drove overnight toward Kranson City.

When Dylan first got into the car, he was relatively clear-headed. But after half an hour, his vision blurred, and his eyelids grew heavy. It was unclear whether this was due to blood loss or something else. He almost slumped over the steering wheel.

"Honey, be careful!" His wife's scream jolted him awake.

Dylan shivered, his eyes widening. He had unknowingly driven into the wrong lane. A large car approached head-on, startling him so much that he held his breath and slammed on the brakes. His reaction, however, was too slow.

Bang!

Meanwhile, after Valerie and Matthew dropped Katherine off at home, Katherine, tearful, said, "Valerie, I don't know what I did wrong. My clothes were perfectly normal; I didn't provoke them. Why was I treated like this?"

"It's not your fault," Valerie said. "It's those scums' fault. They thought they could do whatever they wanted at the wedding. Don't blame yourself."

"Yeah," Katherine said. "I want a shower and a good sleep."

Valerie felt distressed. "Rest well," she said. "Call me if you need anything."

After Katherine went upstairs, Valerie remained worried. Only when Katherine waved from upstairs did Valerie relax. "Katherine's always been optimistic," she thought. "Today's incident was too much for her. I hope she sleeps well."

"She's safely home. Shouldn't you take care of yourself?"

Matthew's voice, serious, came from behind. Only then did Valerie notice two wounds on her wrist, likely from the broken vase. They were deep.

They went home. Matthew got the first-aid kit, intending to apply ointment.

Valerie was awkward. "Mr. Grant, let me do it myself."

"It's difficult for you," he said. "Let me." He was more careful this time.

Looking at his profile, Valerie felt annoyance and amusement. "Why does Mr. Grant have such a cold expression even when he's showing concern? But it's thanks to him. If he hadn't driven me to Vomez and stood up for me, I don't know what would have happened."

She started to speak, "Mr. Grant…"

"If you want to thank me, you don't have to," Matthew interrupted.

Valerie sensed his displeasure. Hesitantly, she asked, "Mr. Grant, are you angry?"

Matthew stopped applying the ointment. He looked at Valerie with a sharp gaze, making her nervous. He was angry.

Matthew then asked, "When you found Katherine and saw the crowd, why didn't you notify me immediately?"