When Yulia received the call that night, she had just finished her shower. Staring at the caller ID, she felt a mix of emotions.

Was it joy, or something closer to mockery?

Men are all the same—dogs.

She scoffed lightly before answering.

"Made up your mind?" Yulia asked haughtily, fully expecting him to propose some shameless demand.

"Where do you live?" came four cold, clipped words.

"What?" Yulia froze, the towel in her hand stilling mid-motion.

Ten minutes later.

Standing at her door, Yulia, still in her bathrobe, found herself face-to-face with the tall man clad in a leather jacket, holding a helmet and a bag.

Harrison’s gaze was calm, though it swept past her to examine the room inside.

Yulia hesitated for a moment but eventually stepped aside to let him in.

Harrison walked in, his eyes scanning the surroundings briefly.

"Where’s the guest room?" he asked without any unnecessary words, leaving Yulia confused about his intentions.

"Are you really planning to stay here?" she asked hesitantly.

His request for compensation, apparently, was just a place to stay.

Harrison’s expression was grim.

"If it weren’t for that photo, I wouldn’t be in a position where I can’t even find a place to stay in this city. If you can keep people from bothering me, I won’t have to stay here."

Yulia was skeptical. Was that really his aim?

Harrison, however, made himself at home, sitting casually on the sofa.

"It won’t be for long. Once things calm down, I’ll leave."

Yulia studied him, still perplexed.

"Why not just take the money and leave the city? Wouldn’t that be easier?"

Harrison smirked slightly.

"Do you have that much money?"

Yulia’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her face impassive, sitting composedly on the single-seater sofa opposite him.

"We’re both adults. You wouldn’t have come here without knowing who I am—or do you have a bigger agenda?"

Harrison stroked his chin, looking her over.

"Such as?"

He shot the question back at her.

Caught off guard, Yulia was momentarily stunned, especially by the way his eyes openly roved over her body.

Her cheeks flushed as she clutched her robe tighter around her chest.

"How would I know what filthy schemes men like you keep hidden inside?"

Yulia had to admit, just one look from him was enough to elicit a strange reaction from her—physically and mentally. The image of him dominating her haunted her like a vivid nightmare, leaving her parched.

Unexpectedly, Harrison stood up, grabbing his bag and helmet.

"Troublesome," he muttered.

The abrupt shift left Yulia momentarily disoriented. Seeing him head for the door, she finally reacted.

"Where are you going?"

Harrison didn’t turn back, pausing only slightly.

"I’m not interested in your money, and I’m even less interested in your body. You’re the one who brought me here, and you’re the one wasting my time. You’re quite the disappointment."

It wasn’t the sarcasm that bothered her—it was those last two words that struck a nerve.

"Stop!" Yulia commanded coldly.

Harrison showed no intention of halting, so she quickly moved to block the door, planting herself firmly in his path.

"For a mechanic, your temper is even worse than mine, and I’m the heiress here. You came here expecting my protection—is this how you act when you’re asking for a favor?"

Her words amused Harrison.

"A favor?"

Yulia’s gaze faltered slightly. No, he was the one owed compensation.

Feeling frustrated, she shoved him lightly back into the room.

"I didn’t say you couldn’t stay. People who approach me always have their own agendas. Is it wrong for me to ask a few questions? And yet you, a grown man, are acting so petty. The guest room is the second door on the east side. It’s late—whatever you want to discuss, let’s do it tomorrow."

With that, Yulia hurriedly retreated to her own bedroom.

Harrison watched her flee, a rare smile tugging at his lips. Then, turning his attention back to the spacious duplex apartment, he took in the décor.

Bright, clean, just like the woman herself.