Inside the luxurious cabin of the private jet, Melissa reclined on the leather massage chair, savoring the soothing kneading along her stiff shoulders and neck.
Having spent hours cramped inside a suitcase, her body ached all over.
Vicente sat nearby, his slender fingers meticulously preparing a plate of fresh fruit.
Watching him, Melissa found the corners of her lips curling into a faint, unconscious smile—until she caught herself and immediately averted her gaze, feigning indifference.
Vicente handed her the neatly sliced fruit, and without hesitation, she accepted it, picking up a fork to eat.
His dark, fathomless eyes lingered on her, a quiet amusement glimmering in their depths.
The tenderness in his expression seemed entirely at odds with his usual professional demeanor.
Only after she finished did he finally speak, his voice low and husky, laced with something akin to hope.
"Melissa, why did you follow me here?"
"O-of course it’s just for fun," she stammered.
Melissa averted her gaze, her lashes fluttering as she avoided Vicente’s piercing eyes.
Vicente narrowed his eyes, studying her expression as if weighing the truth behind her words.
"Of course," Melissa murmured, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush.
Unconsciously, she shifted her eyes away from his sharp scrutiny, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Or else, why would I be here—for you?"
Vicente took in every subtle change in her demeanor, the amusement in his eyes deepening.
"Melissa, the place I’m going is dangerous—far from any fun," he said, leaning closer.
His chiseled features were etched with seriousness.
"Wait for me in the capital.
Once I’m back, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.
How does that sound?"
Was he really sending her away?
The lingering sweetness of the juice in her mouth suddenly turned tasteless.
"No," she protested, her dark, glistening eyes pleading as she looked up at him.
"I didn’t come all this way just to turn back now."
"Vicente, please—let me see the place where you lived. Just this once?"
This was the main reason she had impulsively followed him here.
Of course, there were other reasons too—ones she couldn’t quite put into words.
In short, she just wanted to stay by Vicente’s side. The place where he lived?
At the thought of that world drenched in blood and violence, a trace of self-mockery flickered in his eyes.
"Melissa, trust me, you wouldn’t like it there."
"Whether I like it or not, I won’t know until I see it for myself," Melissa retorted, her delicate brows knitting together.
"Vicente, just take me with you, please?
I promise I’ll behave," she pleaded, raising three fingers in a solemn oath.
Her eyes were clear as a mountain spring, shimmering with sincerity.
"Tell me to go east, and I won’t head west.
Tell me to chase a dog, and I swear I won’t go after a chicken!"
Her expression was so earnest, her demeanor so sweet and soft, that it was impossible to refuse.
Vicente’s gaze darkened.
After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice measured.
"I’ll think about it."
Think about how to explain this to Taylor.
Think about whether he could truly keep her safe.
At least she’s considering it—that’s better than an outright rejection.
Melissa nodded eagerly, scrambling up from the massage chair like an overeager puppy.
"Vicente, please, take a seat!"
Vicente arched a brow and let himself be guided into the chair with her enthusiastic urging.
Settling into the spot Vicente had just vacated, Melissa picked up an apple and began peeling it.
Her expression was earnest, but her clumsy technique betrayed her inexperience.
Within a few strokes, she had already shaved off half the fruit’s flesh.
Vicente sighed in amusement, reaching over to take both the apple and the knife from her hands.
Melissa knew she was hopeless at this.
After a brief hesitation, she reluctantly handed them over, her shoulders slumping slightly in defeat.
In his long, deft fingers, the knife moved with effortless precision, the peel spiraling down in paper-thin ribbons.
"I may not be good at cutting fruit, but I can make tea!"
Her eyes brightened with sudden inspiration, and she immediately sprang up from her seat, heading toward the rear cabin.
"Wait right here—I’ll brew you a cup right now!"
Her voice brimmed with eager enthusiasm.
A warm smile tugged at the corners of Vicente’s lips.
Little Lapdog Melissa handed the freshly brewed tea to Vicente, who in turn passed her a meticulously peeled apple.
The atmosphere was warm and tender.
When Tiffany regained consciousness, the pungent smell of disinfectant assaulted her nostrils.
Her long, thick lashes fluttered as she struggled to open her eyes, only to meet a pair of gentle, concerned ones.
Antonio put away his stethoscope, his voice warm and gentle.
Tiffany blinked at the handsome, kind face before her, taking several seconds to respond.
She tried pushing herself up, but the moment she moved, sharp pain shot through her head and arm.
Antonio swiftly reached out to steady her, then adjusted the hospital bed to prop her up.
"You hit the airbag and have a mild concussion.
No sudden movements for now."
Airbag? Mild concussion? Tiffany’s beautiful eyes flickered as the memory of that bizarre car crash flooded back.
She had no idea who’d sent those men or what they wanted.
But one thing was certain—their goal had been to capture her.
So why was she in a hospital now?
Antonio took in Tiffany’s expression, his clear dark eyes shadowed with unreadable depths.
"Wondering why you’re here?"
Tiffany lifted her gaze to meet his and nodded.
"Someone witnessed the car accident on the outskirts of town and called the police," Antonio said, turning to pour a cup of hot tea before handing it to her.
"You were brought in by ambulance." His voice was measured as he studied her.
"I only realized it was you during my rounds.
Gave me quite a shock, honestly."
So that was what happened. Tiffany nodded, cradling the warm cup as she mulled it over.
Though traffic was sparse in the suburbs, it wasn’t completely deserted.
Given how chaotic and severe the scene must have looked, it wasn’t impossible for a passerby to have reported it.
A faint smirk tugged at Antonio’s lips.
"I took the liberty of moving you to a different room.
Hope you don’t mind."
Tiffany had already noticed she’d been transferred to the hospital’s premium suite.
Her pale lips curved into a weak smile.
"I should be thanking you, Senior.
How could I possibly mind?"
Her brows furrowed slightly.
"By the way, Senior, where are the people who hit me now?"
"Still searching," Antonio replied, his tone steady. "I called to check.
They panicked when they realized someone had reported it and fled, leaving you behind."
Antonio narrowed his eyes.
"That area was a blind spot for surveillance.
The police haven’t found any useful leads yet—they’re still investigating."
Tiffany fell silent, her pale lips pressed tightly together.
Those people had dared to attack her in broad daylight—they were clearly no cowards.
They wouldn’t just let her go so easily.
So why had they abandoned her the moment they realized someone had called the police?
Something about this didn’t add up.
Lost in thought, Tiffany’s frown deepened.
Antonio’s handsome face softened with understanding as he pulled a card with a phone number from his pocket.
"This is a police Officer’s contact—he’s handling the case.
Feel free to call me if you have any questions."
Everything he said was a carefully orchestrated version of the truth.
Even if Tiffany grew suspicious, she wouldn’t be able to uncover anything.
"Senior Mega," Tiffany turned her gaze toward Antonio.
"Could I ask you for a favor?"
"Fanny, no need to be so formal," Antonio replied with a faint smile, his voice gentle.
Behind his back, his fingers idly toyed with the stethoscope.
"We’re friends—there’s no such thing as a ’favor’ between us."
Tiffany narrowed her eyes slightly and nodded, deciding not to stand on ceremony.
"About the car accident and my injuries—please don’t tell Camilla."
Antonio had actually planned to use this very reason to see her.
Antonio hadn’t expected this request from Tiffany.
His brows furrowed slightly.
"Did you two have a fight, or...?"
"Of course not," Tiffany replied firmly. "Camilla and I are fine."
Tiffany shook her head, her voice faint and gentle.
"I just don’t want to worry her."
As for Camilla’s current health issues, she had no intention of letting Senior Mega know. Unnecessary concern would only bring trouble.
Camilla has Mr. Luther that was more than enough.
"No problem," Antonio replied, a trace of coldness flickering in his eyes before he nodded.
A faint, teasing smile played on his lips.
"But are you sure Camilla won’t be upset with you if she finds out?"