For over two years, he had been going crazy thinking about her, but after seeing her these last two times, he’d grown timid.

The first time, he hadn’t dared to approach and greet her. He didn’t even dare to look at her for more than a glance. He couldn’t even bring himself to hold her tight and tell her how much he’d missed her, how much he regretted everything.

The second time, the way she appeared astonished him even more.

He, who had always been so proud, so arrogant, who had always looked down on everyone, for the first time understood the meaning of inferiority.

In over two years, this woman had truly changed a great deal.

Tristan Grayson’s sudden move made Mika Summers freeze for a moment. When she came to her senses, she struggled desperately, pounding her fists against him.

The pain made Tristan’s brows furrow, but he held Mika Summers tight and refused to let go.

Mika struggled for a long time but couldn’t break free. Against Tristan’s overpowering hold, she soon ran out of energy.

Seeing her quiet down, Tristan slowly loosened his grip on her.

But in the next second, he was shoved away, and a sharp slap landed viciously on his face.

"You bastard!" After landing the slap, Mika felt as if all the strength had been drained from her body; she could barely stand.

Tristan stared at Mika in a panic. He opened his mouth to explain but didn’t know where to start. He knew exactly how much he wanted this woman.

"Tristan Grayson, it’s been over two years, and you’re still so disgusting!" With that, Mika forcefully shoved Tristan aside, threw open the door, and ran out.

Watching her leave, Tristan leaned dejectedly against the wall. A bitter smile touched his lips as a sharp, twisting pain began to clench somewhere deep in his heart...

Mika returned to Kiki’s room, locked the door from the inside, and slid down against it to the floor.

Tears began to flow uncontrollably.

For the past two-plus years, she had rarely cried. Even her secret tears couldn’t compare to the amount she had shed today alone.

It was as if once the floodgates were open, the tears couldn’t be stopped. They would fall automatically at the slightest upsetting thing.

’I’m still so weak. So pathetic.’

’How could one man, Tristan Grayson, still affect her so easily, anytime and anywhere...’

*****

Ever since that plastic-faced guy locked her in the office this afternoon, Jasmine Warren still hadn’t been able to leave.

It was now 11 PM.

She was cold, hungry, and sleepy.

’I’ve cursed that plastic-faced guy countless times in my head, wishing his face would rot off and his mouth would get twisted!!!’

’Even better if he got hit by a car and died the moment he stepped outside!’

’Good heavens, am I, Jasmine Warren, with my lifelong renown, really going to be done in so easily by some plastic-faced guy in here?’

’No way! But I’m too embarrassed to shout for someone to come rescue me. After all, right now I’m...’

’That plastic-faced guy put a bed in the office but didn’t even leave a single blanket.’

’Is he doing this on purpose just to mess with me?’

’I can’t take it anymore, I can’t. I’m going to faint from hunger.’

Jasmine Warren lay curled up on the bed, her vision blurry.

But it seemed that in her slumber, she heard someone calling her name. She also felt something being draped over her body. She wanted to open her eyes to see, but she was too exhausted.

She didn’t know how much time had passed, but she thought she smelled the aroma of instant noodles.

’Mmm, it smells so good! So, so good! So good my mouth is watering!’

She raised a hand to rub her eyes and forced them open. Not far away, a man was sitting, elegantly eating a cup of instant noodles.