I let out a scream and backed away instinctively.

"It's me." Richard's cold voice sent a shock through my system.

Wasn't he supposed to be with Helen? Why had he returned so quickly?

Without warning, he leaned down to kiss me. There was no way to avoid him.

The sharp stench of alcohol filled my mouth—Richard was drunk!

Fear gripped me instantly.

The last time he'd entered my room was three years ago, drunk then too. I could still vividly remember his contemptuous look and mocking tone from that night.

Panic rising, I gazed at him pleadingly. "Please don't..."

"Huh?" He lifted his head to look at me, his eyes dark and unfocused.

My baby was only seven weeks along. Remembering the doctor's warnings, I feared for our safety. I forced myself to meet his gaze. "I'm not feeling well."

He remained silent, but I could see the fire burning in his eyes.

His expression told me everything—he was furious beyond furious.

I'd somehow forgotten that he was never gentle with me.

He clumsily carried me out of the bathroom.

Thunder and lightning outside the window matched the intensity of what was happening within.

After a while, he got up and left.

I lay there until the room door opened again.

This time he entered wearing only a towel. His body was wet, water slowly dripping from his hair onto his chest. He looked irresistible.

This man, no matter what he did, always had such magnetic charm.

When he caught me staring, he tossed a towel at me and said in a low voice, "Dry me."

His words carried no emotion.

I obeyed, kneeling behind him to dry his hair.

"Your grandmother's funeral is tomorrow afternoon. Your oldest uncle is already at the family estate." I wasn't trying to make conversation—I was genuinely worried he'd forgotten, being so preoccupied with Helen.

He turned to look at me, his dark eyes narrowing. His voice remained ice-cold. "Blackwood family matters aren't your concern."

Richard had lost his parents young. His grandmother had raised him, grooming him to take over the company. He'd always deeply respected her. However, since she'd threatened both her life and the company to force him to marry me three years ago, he'd rarely visited her.

Even now that grandmother had passed, he hadn't let go of that grudge.

That's why he hated me. For three years, I'd been invisible to him except for work matters. To him, I was just a thorn he couldn't wait to remove. Now that she was gone, he was rushing for divorce, pushing me to sign the papers.

He'd never considered me a true member of the Blackwood family.

In those three years, my warmth had never melted his cold heart.

I fell silent and continued drying his hair.

Richard's phone rang from the desk beside the bed. I glanced at the clock—almost 1 AM.

Only Helen would call this late.

Richard answered his phone and walked to the window, saying softly: "Turn off the lights, close your eyes, and go to sleep."

After his conversation with Helen, he moved to leave.

Usually, I'd let him go, but tonight was different. I stood and grabbed him, my voice barely a whisper. "Could you stay? Just for tonight?"