Twisted Fates: A Game of Love and Retribution

When uncertain, Rachel Foster would curl up in bed, wrapping herself tightly in the blanket, seeking security.

After a while, she finally emerged from the bed, her face slightly flushed. How did she end up here? This wasn't home; what if he suddenly returned?

She picked up the cold water bottle from the table, poured herself a glass, and drank it, calming her uneasy heart a little.

Not knowing when he would return, she idly looked around the room. It was indeed very spacious, with luxury evident in every detail. A bouquet of white lilies adorned the low cabinet, her favorite flowers, though she wasn't sure if it was just the hotel's decor.

Rachel stared absentmindedly at the lilies, not even noticing someone had entered until a tall figure appeared in her peripheral vision.

He stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe, scrutinizing her intensely.

Rachel was startled, nearly dropping the cup from her fingers. Her face turned pale. "You..."

"Do I look like a ghost?" he teased with a smile, striding towards her.

"Not at all," she responded awkwardly, setting the cup on the cabinet. The room was so big, and the door was behind the entrance; she hadn't noticed him come in. "Didn't you say you'd be back later tonight?"

He was already in front of her, his demeanor gentle and handsome, and he stared deeply into her clear eyes.

She wasn't used to being looked at like this, especially when his gaze showed a flirtation. She slightly turned her head to escape his intense, enchanting eyes.

He chuckled, embracing her waist before naturally moving aside to take off his black coat. "Women always complain about men needing to socialize, but men actually hate it the most. Luckily, Mr. Grant covered for me, so I returned early."

Her heart always raced when facing him. To prevent him from noticing her nervousness, she casually remarked, "Don't you always have beautiful women accompanying you at social events?"

He laughed. "There are beauties, but whether they're wonderful is subjective."

His words amused her, easing her tension slightly.

He removed his suit, loosened his tie, and wore only a luxurious white shirt. The way he wore the sweater looked very good, and the design and quality of the shirt itself were tasteful, making him appear exceptionally dashing. In this relaxed state, he looked nothing like the cunning businessman he was in a suit. For some reason, this made her smile.

He noticed and asked, "What are you smiling about?"

"Nothing, just wondering if you're this easygoing with your employees."

He chuckled. "There's no such thing as an easygoing boss, but I know how to please my little assistant. I'm afraid if she sees me with a stern face, she'll make me bad coffee."

Rachel laughed again.

He looked at her, seemingly captivated by her smile, and a smile appeared on his lips. "Are you hungry?"

"Huh?" She was caught off guard.

He walked over to the bedside table and picked up the phone. "I'm hungry. I'll call room service for some food. Would you join me?"