Felicia was caught off guard by Stephan’s words. Her heart warmed, and tears welled in her eyes. She instinctively turned away, hoping Stephan wouldn't notice. But he did. His fingers gently guided her face back toward him, his lips curling into a mischievous smile. "Why are you hiding? Don't tell me you're about to cry."

Felicia rolled her eyes. "You're the one crying!"

Even though Stephan couldn't see, his intuition was uncanny. Felicia pouted. She wasn't crying, just deeply moved. After all, she had been abandoned too many times and had never felt truly chosen. But now, someone was holding her hand so firmly, refusing to let go, not even for a second. She felt secure.

Still emotionally vulnerable, she felt a hand slide under the blanket—a well-defined hand with calloused fingertips. Its touch sent sparks through her body. They were already squeezed into the same hospital bed, their bodies so close that Stephan couldn't miss her reaction. He chuckled, his eyes flickering despite his blurred vision, yet his gaze still found hers.

Felicia felt a mix of frustration and embarrassment. How could he make such increasingly bold moves with such calm composure? Just as she was about to move, Stephan lowered his head and nuzzled her neck. His breath tickled her skin. "I'm blind now. Will you still want me?"

His tone was seductive, yet a hint of pleading underlay it. Stephan wasn't as fearless as people believed. Felicia found it amusing, yet her heart softened. She shoved him away, then leaned in and kissed him. Did she want him? This was her answer.

Stephan froze, his gaze darkening. Then, he chuckled, grabbed the back of her head, and kissed her fiercely, quickly taking control. The hospital ward felt warmer.

When Felicia awoke the next day, her entire body ached. They had been so loud. Did anyone hear them? The hospital was quiet; the VIP floor had few people, and the small lounge outside their room likely muffled the sounds.

Felicia sat up, realizing her clothes had been changed. Everything she wore was fresh and clean. She knew whose handiwork it was and couldn't help but wonder how Stephan, with impaired vision, had managed to distinguish the front from the back of her garments. The thought of him fumbling through the process made her laugh.

A knock came at the door, followed by a guard's voice. "Mrs. Russell, I've brought breakfast." "Come in," Felicia replied.