Griffin grimaced as he roughly dried his wet hair with a towel. The only thing he wore was a white towel wrapped low around his waist, exposing his toned physique.

"D*mn. She's stronger than most men. Feels like she ripped half the hair off my head," he muttered to himself, annoyed yet amused at the same time.

But suddenly, he froze.

The scene from earlier flashed through his mind again-the way Harte's body had looked as she climbed out of the pool, the outline of the red fabric beneath her soaked white dress. The image refused to leave his head.

Griffin shook his head and lightly slapped his own cheek. He went back to drying his hair before throwing on a simple black T-shirt and a pair of pants.

When he went downstairs to the kitchen, he found his family already gathered around the table. The atmosphere was lively, filled with laughter and the mouthwatering smell of delicious food.

He pulled out a chair beside his twin sister, Lavender, and sat down. One thing their mother, Scarlett, absolutely hated during family lunches was talking about work. So throughout the meal, their conversations stayed light and random.

After eating, they all moved to the living room for dessert while watching Lavender's newest television drama series.

Unlike the rest of the family, his sister hadn't followed in their parents' footsteps. She had no interest in business whatsoever. So when she announced she wanted to enter show business and pursue acting, all they could do was support her.

"Goodness, that slap looked painful, sweetheart. Your face didn't swell up, did it?" his grandmother Elene asked dramatically and with concern after seeing Lavender's character get slapped by the villain on screen.

Lavender laughed and shook her head. "Grandma, we always ask permission from each other before filming scenes like that. Although it really hurt-you can tell, right? It makes the scene more effective for the audience."

While everyone watched the show, Griffin noticed Harte busy on her phone instead of paying attention to the television. A few moments later, she quietly stood up and slipped out of the living room with her head lowered.

One of Griffin's eyebrows lifted.

He quickly got to his feet and followed her. Thanks to his long strides, he caught up to her near the garage.

"You're going somewhere?" he asked, making the young woman stop in her tracks.

Harte quickly turned to look at him. "I'm just meeting someone at the convenience store. I'll be back right away."

"Hmm... a friend?" Griffin didn't know why he had suddenly become so interested in where she was going.

"A former classmate," she answered shortly before turning her back on him.

Griffin watched Harte's retreating figure as she walked out through the gate. He even saw her say something to the security guard before finally disappearing from sight.

He headed back inside but didn't return to the living room. Instead, he went straight to his room to grab his car keys. When he came back out to the garage, he signaled for the guard to open the gate before quickly climbing into his car.

He drove fast and soon spotted Harte walking along the side of the road. A mischievous grin spread across his face before he repeatedly honked the horn at her.

Griffin burst out laughing when Harte jumped in shock and nearly dropped her phone.

At the same time Griffin rolled down the car window, Harte whipped around to glare at him, practically fuming with irritation. In pure annoyance, she picked up a rock almost the size of her head and raised it as if she were about to smash it against the hood of his sports car.

"You're seriously insane!" she shouted.

Griffin blinked and immediately panicked. He quickly pulled the car over beside her.

"Harte, don't you dare!" he warned, leaning toward the open window. "Put that down. Get in the car."

Harte scoffed before violently tossing the rock onto the roadside. "And why would I get in there?"

"I'm driving you wherever you're going. Get inside already." He opened the passenger door and pushed it wider with his foot. "The sun is freaking brutal, Harte. Just get in."

Harte glared at him for a few more seconds before finally walking around to the other side of the car and climbing in. She slammed the door shut on purpose, clearly making sure he felt how annoyed she was.

"Hurry up. The person I'm meeting has been waiting for a while," she snapped at him as if he were her personal chauffeur.

If any other woman had spoken to him like that, he probably would've yelled at her-or kicked her straight out of the car.

But this was Harte.

The same way he treated his mother and his twin sister Lavender with respect, he treated Harte the same way. He might bully and tease her nonstop, but he would never allow anyone else to do the same to her.

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied sarcastically with a grin. He sped up and soon arrived at the convenience store she had mentioned.

Harte unbuckled her seatbelt and quickly stepped out. Griffin immediately followed after her, making her eyebrows knit together.

"I thought you were just giving me a ride?" She even crossed her arms over her chest. "Why are you following me?"

"I'm buying something," Griffin excused casually before stepping ahead to hold the door open for her.

Just as the door swung open, a woman wearing sunglasses and a coat dress despite the blazing heat stepped out from inside the store. Griffin and Harte were about to walk past her when the woman removed her shades and suddenly blocked their path.

"Oh my God, Griffin? Is that really you?" the woman exclaimed, her eyes lighting up the moment she saw him.

Harte's gaze shifted back and forth between the woman and Griffin, while Griffin himself frowned slightly, forcing a smile as he tried to remember where exactly he knew her from.

"Ah, yes... and you are...?"

The woman extended her hand toward him. "I'm Chelsea! We were blockmates in college! Don't you remember me?"

Griffin quickly took her hand and laughed. "Of course I remember you," he lied smoothly, even though he genuinely had no clue who she was. "It's been a while. How have you been?"

"I'm doing great. I just got back to the New York," the woman gushed excitedly, almost blushing.

"Looks like she just got back too. You can tell from the outfit," Harte muttered under her breath.

Griffin overheard it and secretly smiled.

"Oh, by the way, I'm throwing a welcome-back party. It's also my birthday." Chelsea hurriedly rummaged through her handbag before handing Griffin a calling card. "I'd love for you to come, if that's okay. And here's my calling card. Call me later, okay?"

Harte suddenly fake-coughed, making Chelsea finally notice her. The woman's brows slowly furrowed. "And this is...? Is she your girlfriend?"

Griffin took the calling card. "She's my little sister," he answered quickly.

Chelsea's smile widened immediately after hearing that. "Oh, hi!" she greeted Harte before turning all her attention back to Griffin again. "I'm in a hurry. I wanted to talk longer, but I'm really hoping you'll call me."

"Of course I will," Griffin replied with a smile, openly flirting back.

The woman waved goodbye before finally leaving.

"No matter where you go, women just keep appearing around you," Harte clicked her tongue before walking farther inside the convenience store.

"But you didn't see me approaching any woman," Griffin defended himself immediately. "They're the ones approaching me. I'm just being nice."

And honestly, it was true.

He was never the one chasing women-they always came to him first. And with the kind of charm he had, who was he to refuse?

"Harte!"

Both of them turned toward the voice coming from the other side of the store. A man stood there, nearly as tall as Griffin. He looked like the nerdy type because of his glasses, but his muscular arms made it obvious he spent plenty of time at the gym.

"You never said you were meeting a guy," Griffin said, his tone suddenly serious. The playful grin on his face vanished instantly, replaced by narrowed eyes.

"That's because you never asked," Harte replied before leaving him behind and walking straight toward the man.

Griffin watched Harte as she walked toward the man, whose smile stretched from ear to ear. A humorless laugh escaped him when the guy suddenly pulled Harte into a hug-and what irritated him even more was that Harte didn't push him away. She simply let it happen.

He had never seen her this close to any guy before.

This was the first time.

An unfamiliar heat stirred in Griffin's chest as he watched the two of them together.

When the man noticed him staring, he whispered something into Harte's ear that Griffin couldn't hear. Harte glanced back at him, her brows instantly knitting together before she gestured with her chin for him to leave already and stop butting in.

Annoyed, Griffin turned on his heel and left the two of them inside the store. He climbed into his car and sped all the way back to the mansion.

The moment he arrived, he found his father, Darius, standing outside. The serious look on the older man's face immediately made Griffin step out of the car and approach him.

"Dad," he called.

Without saying a word, Darius handed his phone over and showed Griffin a text message.

"They need you at the office. The new materials from Spain finally arrived. Check them yourself."

Griffin nodded in response. Even though he was still irritated by what he had seen at the convenience store, business came first.

Darius gave his son a pat on the shoulder, and Griffin immediately headed inside to change into more formal clothes before driving straight to Meridian Investment Partners.

His secretary, Madonna, greeted him the moment he stepped into the building lobby. The urgency on her face reflected how important the newly arrived shipment was.

"Where are the items?" Griffin asked authoritatively without slowing his pace toward the elevator.

"They're already in your office, sir," the woman replied, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

Griffin loosened his necktie slightly before stepping into the elevator.

The shipment consisted of high-grade obsidian and rare marble tiles that would be used for their newest luxury corporate skyscraper project in Bonifacio Global City. The materials would define the image of their premium office spaces, which was why Griffin insisted on personally inspecting the quality himself.

The moment he entered his office, he immediately began examining the materials.

This was already the supplier's second shipment. He had rejected the first one outright because of its poor quality. Although this batch was noticeably better than the last, it still failed to meet his exacting standards.

"Tell them to send all of this back. This is not what I asked for," Griffin said sharply through clenched teeth as he pointed at the samples. "Tell them to find something that matches the sample I gave exactly. And if they can't do that, then let them know we'll start looking for a new supplier."

Madonna immediately pulled out her phone and called the Supplier Manager. Griffin could clearly hear the tension in their conversation while he waited for an answer.

"They said they'll try to find materials identical to the sample you provided, sir," Madonna reported after ending the call. "But they're asking for another month to produce it."

"Another d*mn month?! This project has already been delayed for two f*ck*ng months because of their incompetence!" Griffin snapped as he slammed himself back into his chair.

Madonna quickly called the supplier again to relay Griffin's ultimatum-half a month, or the contract was over.

When she ended the call, a seductive smile slowly appeared on the secretary's lips. She walked closer and perched herself on top of Griffin's luxurious desk, deliberately showing off her long legs.

"You look stressed, sir. Did something happen before you got here?" she asked sweetly.

As she spoke, her hand slowly slid over her chest, gently caressing herself in front of him.

Madonna had been working for him for two years. And during those two years, whenever Griffin lost his temper, she was always the one who calmed him down. He had never forced her into anything-she had been the one to make the first move and show interest in him.

"Nothing happened," Griffin answered stiffly.

His eyes stayed fixed on Madonna's hand as she slowly unbuttoned her blouse, revealing a black lace bra barely capable of containing her curves.

Griffin's restraint snapped instantly.

He rose abruptly from his swivel chair and captured Madonna in a rough, hungry kiss. His hand gripped her chest firmly as he felt the rapid pounding of her heart beneath his palm.

"Ah... S-Sir... easy..." Madonna whimpered breathlessly between kisses.

But Griffin wasn't in the mood to be gentle.

He turned Madonna toward the desk and positioned her with her back facing him. With a rough tug, he pulled down her skirt and underwear.

"Lean on the table. Don't move," he ordered in a low, commanding voice.

When it was over, Griffin leaned back against his desk, finally feeling lighter, as though all the irritation from earlier-both from work and from Harte-had disappeared.

He didn't stay long at the office after that. Once his lust had subsided, he left everything for Madonna to handle and headed out. He wasn't in the mood to return to the mansion, so he decided to drive straight back to his condo instead.

As he drove along the dimly lit road, he noticed the familiar white van once again in his rearview mirror.

It was the same vehicle he had seen earlier before heading to the mansion.

"Persistent bastards," he muttered as he stepped harder on the gas.

But in an instant, the van sped up as well and slammed into the back of his sports car without warning. Griffin's vehicle lurched violently out of balance, and before he could recover, the van rammed into his side again.

Then came the rapid gunfire.

The windows shattered as bullets tore through the body of his car. While trying to dodge the attack, Griffin lost control of the steering wheel completely. His car veered off the road and flipped several times before finally coming to a stop, completely wrecked.

Griffin hung upside down inside the crushed vehicle.

The world spun around him, and the only thing he could hear was the roaring of his own blood in his ears. He tried to move, but a blinding surge of pain shot through his leg.

A sharp piece of metal from the mangled chassis had pierced through him. He could feel the warmth of blood steadily pouring from the wound.

He fought to stay conscious, but darkness slowly began swallowing him whole.

Before his eyes finally closed, he saw the silhouettes of several men stepping out of the white van and walking toward the wreckage.