Whether it was because of Raymond’s words or the physiological reaction to his touch, Angelique’s legs turned weak, and her body trembled uncontrollably.

At the breaking point of her composure, she finally whimpered like a helpless kitten, “Master...”

Every subtle change in her expression was seared into Raymond’s memory. He reveled in this kind of amusement.

“So, what did you come to find me for?” he asked.

Angelique snapped back to reality. She reached into her pocket, only for her face to darken moment by moment.

“Oh no! I think I lost your badge.”

Watching her panic over such a trivial matter, Raymond only found her naivety amusing.

Smiling lightly, he said, “It’s just a badge. If it’s lost, then it’s lost.”

Angelique bit her lip and nodded obediently. That was when she noticed the small droplets of blood splattered on the ground.

“You’re hurt.”

Raymond glanced at the cut on his left wrist, utterly unconcerned. “It’s nothing.”

“That won’t do!”

The innocent little bunny from moments ago suddenly placed her hands on her hips, pouting in dissatisfaction.

Angelique pulled a Hello Kitty band-aid from her pocket and carefully placed it over his wound.

“Make sure you go to the infirmary later to disinfect it. This is just to keep bacteria away for now. If you leave a scar, that delicate skin of yours won’t look as nice anymore.”

Raymond chuckled. “You’re not worried about my safety—just my looks?”

His teasing tone made Angelique’s face flush bright red. She fumbled for an explanation, “The wound isn’t serious enough to affect your health... I just...”

Halfway through her defense, she gave up and pouted. “Fine, I was wrong.”

“Hmm?”

“...Master.”

“Good girl. Go back for now. I’ll give you a little reward tomorrow.”

With his permission, Angelique bolted away in a flustered escape.

To Raymond, though, it looked more like a shy retreat.

—

Before she even stepped into the classroom, Angelique could tell something was wrong.

The curtains were all drawn, the back door was locked, leaving only the front door slightly ajar.

Daphne was even more impatient than she had expected.

Angelique knew what awaited her, yet she still pushed the door open without hesitation.

The moment she stepped inside—a bucket of ice-cold water came crashing down, drenching her completely.

A gust of wind swept through the room, making her shiver violently. Water droplets clung to her eyelashes, blurring her vision.

Before she could react, a sharp slap landed on her cheek.

Daphne grabbed a fistful of her wet hair, yanking her closer.

“You shameless slut!” she spat. “First day here, and you’re already trying to seduce Raymond? And stealing his badge too? Do you even know he’s mine? Who gave you the guts to compete with me for him?”

Tears welled up in Angelique’s eyes as she desperately tried to explain, “No, it’s not like that! I ran into Young Master Raymond in the greenhouse and happened to find it there—I swear I didn’t steal it!”

At the mention of the greenhouse, Daphne’s expression twisted with rage.

“You mean to tell me you set foot in the greenhouse? Do you have any idea it’s Raymond’s forbidden place? Who do you think you are to step in there?!”

Though her words were sharp, Angelique knew the real reason for Daphne’s breakdown—it wasn’t about the greenhouse.

It was the fact that she had encountered Raymond there and had suffered no consequences for it.

Still, she tried to defend herself, “I swear, it was an accident! I didn’t mean to! And Mr. Ainsworthn never said anything about it-”

Just as Daphne’s hand was about to strike again—someone grabbed her wrist mid-air.

Daphne turned in disbelief to see the one who had stopped her. “Daryl, you’re taking this slut’s side too?”

Daryl’s calm gaze remained unfazed, his tone cold as he spoke. “Class is about to start. You just dealt with that person not long ago and caused enough trouble for yourself. Do you really want your father to come after you again?”

Hearing his words, Daphne gritted her teeth in frustration and flung her hand to the side.

Her undisguised, hateful glare landed on Angelique as she spat out a vicious warning, “Consider yourself lucky today. But if I ever catch you trying to seduce Raymond again, I’ll make sure you have nowhere to bury your corpse!”

Angelique, drenched from head to toe, had no choice but to skip class and head to the locker room to change.

Once she confirmed no one else was around, she could no longer hold back her laughter.

She looked into the mirror, her eyes still red from crying, the slap mark burning against her pale skin—each and every wound now became perfect, irrefutable evidence she could use.

A knock on the door.

“Ms. Monroe, are you alright?” It was Daryl’s voice.

Composing herself, Angelique stepped out.

In his hands, he held a fresh set of school uniforms and a towel. The cold indifference in his eyes from earlier had vanished, replaced by a gentle smile on his clean, handsome face.

“Change into this so you don’t catch a cold. Afterward, I’ll take you to get your face treated.”

Angelique lowered her gaze, her long lashes quivering like dark feathers. The next moment, tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Thank you Mr. Thompson...”

Daryl affectionately brushed his hand against her forehead. “Alright now, go in and change before you really get sick.”

“...Okay.” Angelique nodded. However, the moment she turned around, the warmth in both their eyes vanished at the same time.

A knight standing up for the weak—this fairytale-like act could make any girl fall. Just like her sister did back then.

But from the moment she stepped into the room, Angelique had been watching Daryl carefully.

That expression of his—one of mere amusement—had shifted the moment he heard Raymond’s name. First, a hint of intrigue. Then, when he realized she hadn’t been targeted by Raymond, his hidden smirk completely disappeared.

The person he mentioned to Daphne was her sister.

Anyone who had ties to Raymond was nothing more than a tool for him to exploit.

Did Daryl really think he could use the same trick on her again?

This time, she would make him pay in blood.

—

After changing into the clean uniform, Angelique followed Daryl toward the infirmary.

“How do you know Raymond?” His tone was light, as if he were casually asking what she had for lunch.

“There were too many people on the main path today, so I decided to take a shortcut through the garden to the teaching building. I accidentally stumbled into a greenhouse and met him there.”

Angelique tilted her fair face, blinking innocently. “Is there something wrong? Why do you ask?”

“No reason. Just... he seems to treat you differently.” Daryl’s voice trailed off, almost as if he were talking to himself.

Before she could respond, the infirmary door swung open.

Inside, Raymond was lying on the bed, eyes closed in feigned sleep.

His brows furrowed instinctively at the sound of intruders, irritation flashing across his sharp features. But the moment he realized it was Angelique, the cold malice in his eyes was replaced by a flicker of surprise.

“...What are you doing here?”

Angelique’s expression was a mix of shock and delight, completely unguarded.

For a moment, she was surprised that the most unruly young master had actually listened to her and came to the infirmary to get his wound treated. However, she recalled that Daryl was standing right behind her.

If this led to Raymond’s displeasure, things could turn ugly.

Before she could even answer, he spoke again—

“Who hit you?”

Angelique panicked, covering her cheek as she frantically shook her head like a rattling drum. “No one hit me! You must be seeing things!”

Raymond leaped down from the bed and strode up to her, gripping her wrist to make her face him fully.

“You think I’m an idiot?”

Angelique’s skin was fair and delicate—just the slightest touch would leave a faint red mark. Let alone the glaring, blood-speckled slap print now staining her cheek.

His sharp gaze dropped to her clean, fresh uniform. His eyes darkened. “You changed clothes?”

“I didn’t!” Angelique denied.

“Angeli, have I not told you? The thing I hate the most is being lied to.” His cold eyes flicked down to her sleeve. “Your cuff was stained with my blood earlier. Where is it now?”

As he spoke, his focus had already shifted to the figure behind her—Daryl.

A silent, suffocating pressure filled the space.

Raymond's keen observation and intense possessiveness far exceeded Angelique's expectations.

Meanwhile, Daryl, as always, maintained his gentle demeanor, though his voice carried a teasing edge. “Why don’t you ask your dear childhood sweetheart?”

Raymond’s expression darkened instantly.

“Daphne did this?” His voice was dangerously low. He then turned back to Angelique. “I told you, don’t even think about lying to me.”

“I just didn’t want my mistakes to cause unnecessary misunderstandings between you two,” she answered timidly.

Their gazes locked, and, unexpectedly, it was Raymond who lost the battle.

For some reason, he always felt that Angelique was made of water—fragile, easily shaken, her eyes reddening at the slightest provocation.

They seemed to have an inexplicable connection. Even though this was their first meeting, fate keeps drawing them together through a series of coincidences. He had never believed in fate. But now, for the first time, it felt like an invisible thread was pulling them together.

Raymond wasn’t used to dealing with girls. After all, Daphne was always the one chasing after him.

Faced with Angelique’s teary eyes, he felt an unfamiliar unease—mixed with a strange, indescribable satisfaction.

A chuckle slipped from his lips. “There’s nothing between Daphne and me. Don’t forget—you belong to me. Only I can bully you. Understand?”

Angelique tugged at his sleeve, biting her lower lip. “Daryl is still here... Don’t call me that.”

Her small fingers, whether intentional or not, brushed lightly against Raymond’s waist.

A tingling sensation shot through his body, like an electric current, spreading to every nerve.

He exhaled through his nose, a low, amused hum. “I’ll let you off this time.”

—

Angelique didn’t know what Raymond had done, but in the following days, Daphne had only resorted to minor harassment—stealing her stationery, dirtying her seat.

She hadn’t tried anything more extreme.

But Angelique also hadn’t seen Raymond since.

She didn’t have his contact information, leaving her completely passive.

The uncertainty gnawed at her, a dull frustration pressing against her chest.

Her gaze kept drifting toward his empty seat.

A nudge on her arm pulled her back to reality.

“The teacher is calling you,” Daryl murmured.

On the podium, the teacher’s expression was laced with impatience.

“Angelique, you got into this school purely on scholarship. If you’re not even going to pay attention in class, do you think enrolling in an elite academy suddenly makes you some kind of rich heiress?”

Laughter erupted across the classroom.

Yet Angelique’s expression remained unchanged. Her pitch-black eyes simply settled on the teacher.

She remembered.

Back then, when her sister was on the verge of death, she had called for help again and again.

But what did she say?

“Daphne is such a kind person. Why would she ever hurt you?”

“Stop making trouble for no reason.”

“If you can’t handle it, just die.”

Cold, indifferent words that had pushed her sister into complete despair.

Now, under Angelique’s unwavering gaze, the teacher faltered.

Mumbling something under her breath, she quickly let her sit back down.

Beside her, Daryl adjusted his glasses and said casually, “That was the twentieth time today you looked at Raymond’s seat.”