Gavin’s gaze lingered on Liza’s slightly flushed lips, his expression thoughtful. After a long pause, he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a soft, coaxing tone. “I can make the soup taste sweet. Want to try?” Liza’s alcohol-clouded mind struggled to process his words. She blinked, her brows furrowing slightly. “Are you… telling the truth?” “Of course,” Gavin replied smoothly, with no hesitation or intention of sparing her inebriated state. He pointed to his lips with an air of righteousness and teased, “One kiss, and the hangover soup will be sweet.” She huffed, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Liar.” The alcohol had stripped away Liza’s usual sharp demeanor, leaving her with an endearing softness that tugged at Gavin’s self-control. Watching her pouting expression, he felt his throat tighten. Without warning, he picked up the bowl of hangover soup, drained it in one go, and then leaned in to press his lips against hers. The sweetness of the soup mixed with the faint tang of alcohol on her lips, a blend that lingered as he gently fed her the soup through their kiss. By the time the entire bowl was gone, Gavin pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against hers. His voice, now slightly hoarse, carried a hint of mischief. “Well? Is it bitter?” Liza’s eyes, slightly misted over, met his. The redness at the corners of her eyes made her look even more vulnerable. She shook her head instinctively, her voice soft. “It’s not bitter. It’s sweet.” As if to emphasize her point, the tip of her pink tongue darted out to lick the corner of her lips. Gavin’s breath hitched, his composure faltering as he leaned back slightly. But Liza’s hazy expression began to sharpen, her gaze clearing as if sensing the sudden tension. She instinctively shifted, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. Gavin noticed the change and chuckled. “Now you’re being cautious? Don’t you think it’s a little late for that?” The next morning, Liza jolted awake, sitting up abruptly in bed. Her head spun slightly as the events of the previous night flashed in her mind. Did I… drink alcohol yesterday?! A deep, groggy voice interrupted her thoughts. “It’s still early. Go back to sleep.” Before she could react, a strong arm emerged from beneath the covers, wrapping around her waist. The next thing she knew, she was pulled down onto a firm chest. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized the situation she was in. Her gaze darted around the room—it was her master bedroom. But why was Gavin here?! Her breath caught in her throat as a horrifying thought struck her. Tentatively, she touched her body under the blanket, her face draining of color. “Gavin… where are my clothes?!” “Why would you wear clothes to sleep?” Gavin replied lazily, still half-asleep as he attempted to pull her closer. Before he could succeed, Liza pinched his arm without mercy. “Damn it—!” Gavin hissed, his eyes snapping open. He looked at her in disbelief, rubbing the sore spot. “What’s wrong with you?!” She glared at him, her voice sharp. “Why are you in my bed? And why am I not dressed?!” His patience wearing thin, Gavin sighed heavily and sat up, his handsome face tinged with exasperation. “Ungrateful. Is this how you repay your helper?” “Helper?” Liza repeated, her confusion evident.Gavin leaned back, his tone smug as he explained. “You drank alcohol yesterday—barely a mouthful—and passed out. If I hadn’t noticed and carried you back, you would’ve spent the night on the floor. By morning, the servants would’ve found you, and you’d probably have a fever by now. Instead, look at you—full of energy.” As he spoke, fragments of her memory returned. She vaguely recalled Gavin rushing toward her in a panic. But still… “That doesn’t explain why you undressed me!” she snapped. Gavin raised an eyebrow, his tone deliberately mocking. “You were covered in alcohol. What did you expect me to do? Let you sleep like that?” Unable to find a good response, Liza resorted to action. With a swift kick, she sent Gavin tumbling off the bed. He hit the floor with a thud, glaring at her as he pushed himself up. “Liza!” She crossed her arms, unbothered. “What?” Gavin clenched his jaw, his temper barely in check. Before he could respond, a knock at the door interrupted them.“Young Master, Young Madam, are you awake? Miss Reed has arrived,” came the butler’s voice from outside. Liza froze, her head tilting in confusion. Miss Reed? Who’s that? Her gaze shifted to Gavin, who got to his feet with a dark expression. He gave her one last glare before heading to the bathroom without a word. Three minutes later, Gavin emerged from the bathroom, looking composed and polished. However, his calm demeanor was short-lived. The sight of Liza still sprawled lazily on the bed ignited a flicker of frustration. She had an uncanny ability to test his patience without even trying. “There’s a guest waiting downstairs,” he announced curtly. “Get dressed and come with me to meet her.” Liza, now fully awake, processed his words slowly. A thought struck her, and she tilted her head to look at him. “Her surname is Reed? Is she the runaway bride who left you at the altar?” Gavin calmly adjusted his cuffs, not even sparing her a glance. “Yes.” Her brows furrowed in mild disbelief. The nerve of this woman! She had abandoned Gavin in the past but still had the audacity to show up now? Liza’s gaze narrowed, her competitive spirit awakening. Moments later, Liza followed Gavin downstairs, her curiosity piqued by the unfolding situation. Before they even reached the living room, a delicate and saccharine voice floated up to them. “Brother Gavin, what took you so long? And these servants—ugh, they’re insufferable! They wouldn’t even let me go upstairs to look for you. So annoying.” There was a pause before the voice added, “Oh, and where’s Jane? I haven’t seen her around.” The mention of Jane’s name gave Liza a moment’s pause. She sifted through her memory before recalling the former servant. Jane had been trouble—a scheming, overly ambitious woman with misplaced loyalty to Miss Reed. Her constant provocations and disdainful remarks about Liza had ultimately led to her dismissal from the household. Jane’s favorite pastime had been comparing Liza unfavorably to Sophia Reed, the so-called perfect eldest daughter of the Reed family who had famously fled her arranged marriage to Gavin. Gavin’s voice broke her thoughts. “Jane isn’t here anymore,” he said flatly. “Liza didn’t like her, so she was let go.” As he spoke, he turned toward Liza and casually held her hand, leading her down the remaining steps with a sense of finality. In the living room, Sophia Reed’s face lit up with an almost theatrical innocence. Her wide eyes glimmered with surprise as she took in Liza’s presence. “Brother Gavin, is this Miss Liza? The one who married you in my place?” Her tone was sweet, but her words carried an unmistakable sting. Her gaze lingered on Liza for a beat too long before she added with a seemingly genuine smile, “She’s very beautiful.” Liza met Sophia Reed’s gaze, her expression unreadable. Is that so? Let’s see how long you can keep up the act.