The private room was empty. Lucian entered and immediately shut the door. The room fell silent; only their breathing was audible. Roxanne scanned the area, feeling a sense of danger and struggling fiercely.

“What are you trying to do? Let me go!”

Lucian effortlessly pinned her against the wall. Their bodies were pressed together, his warm breath on her ear. Roxanne stopped struggling, stiffening and slowing her breathing. They were so close her chest would touch his with the slightest movement.

The room fell deathly silent. Roxanne gritted her teeth, her mind racing. The oppressive feeling he emanated remained as strong as ever, though their relationship had changed long ago. She clenched her fists, forcing herself to calm down.

“We’re already divorced, Lucian. We have nothing to do with each other. We’re from different worlds.”

Taking a deep breath, she said calmly, “Lucian, let me go. We can talk if you have something to say.”

He was slightly stunned by her calm tone. He took a step back, but didn't release her. Roxanne secretly sighed in relief; her expression grew calmer.

“Do you have nothing to say to me?”

Lucian narrowed his eyes at the change in her expression. Perhaps because she had composed herself, her heart didn’t tremble at his words. With a distant tone, she said, “Mr. Farwell, we’ve been divorced for six years. I think there’s nothing I have to say to you.”

Lucian pinched her chin hard, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes burned with rage.

Roxanne endured the pain, avoiding his gaze, remaining silent. His anger intensified at her silence.

Mr. Farwell? he thought. That distant tone! Six years…hasn’t this heartless woman always been this way? Leaving her daughter behind…no one’s more heartless than her.

“Roxanne, why are you acting like a stranger?”

He gripped her chin harder. Roxanne winced, meeting his eyes with defiance.

Lucian smirked. “Weren’t you the one who shouted how much you loved me? And now, we’re strangers? Have you forgotten what you did to me? You may have, but I haven’t!”

Roxanne froze. She hadn’t expected him to bring up six years ago—that night she’d approached him, sacrificing herself for a moment of intimacy. The memory chilled her; she balled her fists. Unwilling to back down, she replied, “I remember. Do you feel taken advantage of? Want your dignity back? Tell me. How should I compensate you, Mr. Farwell?”

Lucian trembled with rage, the tension in the room palpable. The pain in her chin intensified, but Roxanne remained calm. “To be honest, you were unconscious, and I felt nothing. It was so-so. But I did drug you, so I won’t object to compensation.”

So many years, and she uses words to anger me. Lucian’s eyes narrowed. He’d been unconscious that night, barely remembering anything. But any man would be angered by her words.

After a silence, he lifted her chin slightly and said coldly, “So-so? Since I’ve caused this misunderstanding, I don’t mind being at your service again.”

Panic flashed in Roxanne’s eyes. She wanted to escape, but there was nowhere to run.

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