"Where are we? What are we doing here?" After some rest, Arthur's mind cleared a little, though the lingering effects of the alcohol still left him groggy. Ashley’s long, wavy hair cascaded over her face, making it difficult to see her expression. But from her clothes to her hair, everything about her looked like Ashley. Yet, something felt off. She was unusually quiet tonight. Ashley was never the overly talkative type, but this silence felt different—unnatural. Was she upset that I had been drinking? Arthur frowned. Ashley wasn’t the kind of person to get upset over something so trivial. If something was bothering her, she’d usually say it outright. So why was she acting so off tonight? Before he could ask, she tightened her grip on his arm and led him into a hotel. Arthur’s brows furrowed. A hotel? She didn’t say a word, just guided him inside like everything had already been arranged. There was no hesitation. No check-in. Just a straight walk toward the elevator. Something wasn’t right. "Why aren’t we going home? Why are we here?" he asked, suspicion creeping into his voice. Still, she remained silent. His gut twisted with unease. Before he could question further, the elevator doors slid open. A sharp pain pulsed behind his temples, the lingering effects of the wine making his thoughts sluggish and heavy. Ashley held onto him, leading him down the hallway with purpose. She stopped at a door, pulled a keycard from her bag, and swiftly unlocked it. Arthur barely had time to register what was happening before— She pushed him against the wall. The next second, she pressed herself against him. The room was dark, the only light coming from the window, where the soft glow of the moon cast long shadows across the floor. Just as Ashley’s lips were about to touch his, Arthur suddenly threw up a hand between them, blocking her. Something was wrong. Even if he couldn’t see her face clearly, he could feel it. This wasn’t Ashley. He had spent two years with her. He knew her scent, her presence, the way she moved. This wasn’t her. His mind, still sluggish from the alcohol, struggled to catch up. His brows furrowed as confusion flickered across his face. "Ashley… why do you smell different?" She stiffened. For a moment, there was silence. Then, she quickly recovered, her tone light and dismissive. "I just put on some perfume." Arthur hesitated but slowly exhaled, letting his guard drop slightly. That made sense. Ashley had never used perfume before, but maybe she had decided to start. Noticing his slight hesitation, she suddenly grabbed his face, her fingers pressing against his skin, as she tried to close the distance between them once more. At that moment, Arthur’s gaze shifted slightly. And in that fleeting second—he saw it. His pupils dilated in shock. The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning. Just as Ashley was about to press her lips against his, Arthur suddenly shoved her away—hard. "Bang!" She slammed into the wall behind her with a dull thud. Her head snapped up, her eyes wide with shock as she stared at him, disbelief written all over her face. "You—Arthur!" She instinctively started to speak but quickly clamped her mouth shut, realizing her mistake. But it was already too late. And in that split second when she instinctively looked up, Arthur saw her face. Tia? It was actually Tia! She wasn’t Ashley! Arthur’s mind cleared in an instant. He stared at Tia in disbelief. His heart pounded in his chest as he stared at her, his voice sharp and demanding. "Tia? What the hell—where’s Ashley?" Tia, realizing she had been exposed, dropped the act. She let out a low chuckle, slowly reaching up to pull off the wig. "Ashley?" she scoffed, tossing the wig aside. "Arthur, is that all you care about? Ashley?" Her mother always told her—men were all the same. They were ruled by their desires. Tia refused to believe that in this situation, with just the two of them alone in a hotel room, he could resist her. She was young, beautiful, and willing. With her taking the initiative, there was no way Arthur would feel nothing! She let the wig drop to the floor, then slowly, deliberately, began slipping off her gown. Arthur immediately turned his head away. "Tia, have some self-respect!" Regret surged through him. Damn it. This is exactly why drinking is a bad idea! How could I have been so careless? Without hesitation, he moved toward the door, gripping the handle—only to find it locked from the inside. His heart sank. When had she locked it? Tia had already shed her dress; now standing there in nothing but a revealing tank top, she let out a wild, triumphant laugh. "Hahaha, Arthur, don’t bother. You’re not getting out." She raised her hand, and with a smirk, dangled a small key between her fingers. "See this? The key’s right here." Arthur's gaze turned sharp, and in a split second, he lunged for it. But Tia was faster. Just before he could snatch the key from her hand, she smirked—and dropped it straight down the front of her shirt. Arthur’s body went rigid. Tia smiled seductively, her expression completely different from the cold and aloof image she usually projected. She ran her fingers down her collarbone, her voice dripping with seduction. Her eyes shimmered with mischief as she leaned in slightly. "If you want it, Arthur… you’ll have to take it yourself." Arthur’s fist clenched at his side. His gaze flicked briefly to where she had hidden the key before immediately looking away.Tia's smug expression faltered. He wasn’t reacting. She had expected hesitation, internal struggle—but he wasn’t even tempted. Frustration flashed across her face. Biting her lip, she narrowed her eyes and demanded, "How did you recognize me?" She had spent all night planning this. She had spent the entire night at school waiting for this moment. She had carefully orchestrated everything, making sure people would offer Arthur drinks at every turn. But no matter how many times someone toasted him, Arthur remained distant, turning them all down without hesitation.