"If a woman truly loves you, she'll do anything for you. This is the most heartbreaking aspect of a woman, but also the most foolish and pitiful. Sometimes, I really don't understand how women think—knowing full well they're being used, yet..." Moya waved her hand, cutting off her own train of thought before she strayed too far. "But that's not the point. The point is, this condition—where a woman falls madly in love and her intelligence drops to zero—is both her greatest strength and her greatest vulnerability."

Ryo rolled his eyes. "If loving me means doing anything for me, then she doesn't love me at all. Every time she acted clueless and oblivious, it drove me up the wall."

Moya looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "She's not clueless; she just hasn't realized it yet. Think about it: she stood outside in the cold wearing that short skirt for over an hour because you mentioned her legs were beautiful. Hmm? Ha! Don't you get it yet?"

Ryo snorted disdainfully. "Hmph. Wasn't there another woman—Karen or something—who used to wait outside my house every day just to catch a glimpse of me?"

"That's different. Karen is a shrewd woman. She wasn't waiting for you; she was waiting for an opportunity. Otherwise, she wouldn't have cozied up to your father so quickly. She knows exactly who calls the shots in your family."

Ryo's pride took a slight hit, but he had to admit it was true.

Moya continued to enlighten him. "But April is different. She's the kind of pure and naive girl who, if you so much as get slightly angry with her, will come running to you obediently. Even if she's filled with grievances, she'll do anything to make you happy."

Arden, who had been listening nearby, couldn't take it anymore. "Hey, Moya, I'm starting to doubt if you're even a woman. You're always scolding us for messing with women, and now you're enthusiastically teaching this fool how to manipulate a young girl? You just want to watch the world burn, don't you?"

"How dare you call me a fool..."Ryo jumped up in anger.

Moya smacked Ryo, who had leaned in too close, square in the face, pushing him away before turning to Arden. "Our dear Prince Charming really knows how to cherish women. I'm doing this for the girl's own good. Without falling a few times, women can't grow stronger."

Arden sneered. "Oh, so now you think you're some kind of savior?"

"I'm not a savior. I'm just... quite like that girl."

Arden raised an eyebrow, suddenly catching on. "Oh, I see. You've got your eye on her. What, are you waiting for her to take a major blow from a man so you can swoop in and take advantage?"

Moya covered her mouth, smiling slyly. "Don't make me sound so wicked, alright?"

Arden pressed a hand to his forehead, letting out a sigh. "That poor girl, running into the likes of you two... I can't imagine what bad karma she's paying off from her past life."

Moya raised an eyebrow, surprised. "You actually believe in karma? Aren't you worried that in your next life, you'll reincarnate as a woman in a brothel, entertaining thousands of men?"

Arden leaned lazily on his arm, a smirk playing on his lips. "Sounds like easy work to me. At least I'd be making money while lying down."

Even Moya, who had known Arden for years, couldn't hide her surprise at his brazen nonchalance. For someone so devoted to indulgence and unafraid of consequences or divine retribution, it seemed there was no cure.

"By the way, how's that fierce girl of yours?" Moya asked, suddenly intrigued by the only woman who could possibly rival him.

"What do you mean?" Arden seemed puzzled by Moya's curiosity.

"What are you planning to do with her?"

Arden shook his head. "I haven't thought about it."

Moya looked a little disappointed. "Really? I thought you were quite taken with her."

Arden shrugged. He was still somewhat interested, but he truly hadn't decided what to do next. At least, not yet.

Taking her to bed again? That didn't seem particularly meaningful. No matter how unique a woman was, in bed, it all boiled down to that singularly passionate moment. If it was just about chasing that moment, then the specifics of the woman—whether to be tender or persistent, what kind of effort to invest—started to lose significance.

Although capturing prey often culminated in this ultimate goal, reducing everything to its essence felt barren, overly stark, and devoid of depth. Depth wasn't about how close you got to the truth but about how much you layered over it—how many flowers you planted, houses you built, and illusions you created to make it seem unattainable.

If he was going to pursue her, it had to be worth the effort. The experience had to satisfy not just his body but also his spirit and soul, all at once. Like a sage preparing to read a treasured book, he needed to cleanse himself before beginning.

Such a unique woman deserved a method that made the pursuit exciting and worthwhile. Otherwise, she'd be no different from the other women who came before—or those who would inevitably come after.

Unconsciously, this "glass of water" rose in his estimation. For Arden, women had always been for indulgence; he'd never cared about how to season or present them. Yet, she had managed to occupy his thoughts. This woman wouldn't be so easily erased from his mind. At the very least, the way she had thrown him over her shoulder had left a lingering psychological shadow.

That time, he'd been caught off guard. But in a face-to-face fight, he didn't think he'd necessarily lose. Still, the idea of constantly being on high alert against a woman was undeniably exhausting and thankless. That was one reason why, even after learning from Ryo where she lived, he hadn't gone to visit her.

Yet, he wasn't ready to give up on her entirely. A woman like her was a challenge, and Arden had always been drawn to challenges. But how to approach this one? That question had begun to take up a considerable part of his thoughts—and his life.

🎬🔀

"What? Have dinner with them?" Sandra exclaimed, gripping a kitchen knife in one hand and placing the other hand firmly on her hip.

April took a cautious step back, her eyes fixed on the shiny, intimidating blade. "Sasa, can you put the knife down first? It's really scary."

"Are you joking? Why would I go have dinner with them?" Sandra tossed the knife into the sink with a loud clang. The sound reverberated through the small kitchen, and she winced. The knife was made of fine steel; she could only hope it hadn't damaged the old sink. If the landlord found out, it would mean yet another expense.

"Ryo was really angry about what happened that day," April explained, edging closer to the doorway, just in case. "He said you needed to come forward and apologize to his friends."

"Why should I apologize?" Sandra shot back. "He was the one making moves on you first!"

"True," April admitted, "but you did throw him down pretty hard. I heard he broke his tailbone. He's already letting you off by not pursuing medical expenses."

Sandra hesitated, her fiery momentum faltering. "The only reason he's not going after medical bills is probably because he has health insurance. All the costs are covered. Aren't you worried they'll ask for something outrageous? We're not rich like them."

April raised her hands in a placating gesture. "Ryo said they'll cover the dinner; we don't have to pay anything."

That only made Sandra more suspicious. "Then there's even more reason not to go. Who knows what they're planning?"

"But—"

"No buts," Sandra said firmly, cutting her off. Her tone left no room for negotiation.

Sandra had imposed strict rules on April: no leaving the house unless it was for exams. Classes that could be skipped had to be skipped, and for the ones that couldn't, Sandra would accompany her.

April, her naive little lamb of a roommate, was bound to be eaten alive by that big bad wolf eventually. Sandra couldn't let her friend make the same mistakes she had.

Of course, there was a selfish side to her protectiveness. She didn't want anything to do with that man. If April continued her relationship with Ryo, their paths would inevitably cross again. What then? Pretend not to know him? Impossible. That day, he clearly recognized her and didn't seem to have any intention of hiding it.

And there was no way she could stand in front of him without thinking about that night. Could she stay rational, or would she do something completely out of line? She wasn't sure, and that uncertainty was terrifying.

But fate had its ways, and avoiding it was futile.

When Sandra returned home one evening, she immediately noticed two large boxes sitting on the kitchen counter. They were tied with beautiful ribbons—one in soft peach pink, the other a fiery red.

"April," Sandra called, her voice sharp as she stared at the boxes. "Did you go out?"

April, curled up in her computer chair in her pajamas, froze. "You just went out to drop the trash five minutes ago. How could I have gone anywhere?"

Sandra's skeptical gaze lingered.

April added hastily, "I didn't even have time to change clothes! I just downloaded a new online game. Right after you left, the download finished, and I started installing it. Look!" She pointed at her screen. "It's only been installing for three minutes."

Sandra wasn't convinced. She crossed her arms and gestured toward the counter. "Then where did those come from?"

April glanced at the boxes, her expression half-guilty, half-defensive. "The landlady brought them here."

Sandra raised an eyebrow. "What's inside?"

"I don't know either." This, at least, was the truth. April hadn't had time to open them before the game's download notification drew her back to her screen.

Sandra thought to herself, The landlady wouldn't send a bomb, would she? Blowing up her own house wouldn't do her any good. Wait... does home insurance even cover anonymous bombs?

She untied the pink ribbon, and April jumped down from her chair to watch.

"Wow..." April pushed up her glasses, marveling at the small dress Sandra pulled out. "It's a new design from Lanvin!"

Sandra, unimpressed, tossed the dress aside like a piece of trash and roughly untied the red ribbon. As the box opened, a puffy dress popped out like a jack-in-the-box, startling them both.

"Wow, such a huge skirt," April exclaimed, now completely enamored with the new dress.

Sandra flung the lid aside, narrowly missing April.

"Hey, Sasa, watch it!" April protested.

Sandra shot her a fierce glare. "No, you watch it. Don't sell yourself short for a few small favors."

April's excitement deflated instantly under Sandra's scolding.

Sandra walked over to the single-seater sofa and plopped down, striking a boss-like pose. "Now, explain. What's going on?"

April shrank under Sandra's intense gaze and confessed, "Ryo sent me messages, actually."

In this digital age, you could trap a person's body but not her heart.

"He said he'd send a gift today. He didn't tell me what it would be!" April quickly tried to shirk responsibility. "And it really was the landlady who delivered them. She used her key to open the door, not me. She put them down and left before I could do anything. Then you came back."

Sandra remained expressionless as she continued her interrogation. She nodded toward the dress April was holding. "What does this mean?"

"Ryo said we're supposed to take these gifts and attend the dinner." April lowered her head but sneaked a glance at Sandra. "And he said... if you didn't go, someone might end up with extra trouble."

"Trouble?" Sandra frowned.

"He also said that if someone did something, she had to face the consequences."

A blatant, shameless threat.

Sandra couldn't tell if Ryo was referring to the incident where she had thrown Arden over her shoulder or the night she and Arden had spent together. But it was likely the latter. From the past few days of hiding, they must have figured out that she didn't want anyone to know about her connection with that man.

She cared—not because of morals or ethics—but because she didn't know how to face the situation herself.

Well, girl, once you care about something, you have a weakness.

Impulsive mistakes always came with consequences. In the end, you had to pay for what you'd done.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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