As soon as the words fell, two photos arrived on Lucian's phone—images of his sister being followed and photographed secretly. Zora's voice was like a devil's whisper. "Your sister is quite pretty. The two men I sent are both single. Who knows if they can control themselves around such a young girl..." Lucian clenched his fist so hard his knuckles turned white. "When do you need it?" "Tonight." "Fine." Putting away his phone, Darcy finished her loop around the park and walked back. "Heading back? We can walk together," Lucian offered. They walked side by side toward the park gate. Just before leaving, Lucian suddenly turned to her. "Zane is trash. No matter how he begs you in the future, don't look back." Darcy was surprised by the sudden remark, but her expression didn't flicker. "Thanks for the reminder. But I already knew that." Lucian smiled, "Good." With that, he unlocked the car at the curb and drove off. Lucian had his own connections—by sundown, he'd gotten his hands on the meds and drove to the spot Zora sent him. When he got out of the car, there was Zora—dressed in something way too skimpy and sexy. He sneered, "What's the matter? Zane can't get it up for you?" An object sailed through the air in a neat arc. Zora caught it deftly, checked the label, and tucked it safely into her purse. She ignored his sarcasm, flipping her carefully curled hair. "I know you're just jealous. But there's no helping it. I'm destined to climb up and become the lady of the Vance family."Lucian snorted, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. Watching her touch up her makeup and spray perfume in the wind, he couldn't resist another jab. "Acting like it's your first time." Snapping her compact shut, Zora smiled, her red lips curving. "It will be our first. Not only that, I'll be his first woman." First woman? Lucian frowned slightly, exhaling a slow stream of smoke. "Didn't he have a history with Darcy?" "Zane's heart has always belonged to me," Zora said proudly. "Even if he was with that woman for seven years, he never touched her. He wasn't interested in her." Lucian was momentarily stunned, then gave another mocking laugh. "Don't celebrate too soon. A man who doesn't touch women might just be... incapable." Zora glared at him. "With those broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs—how could he be incapable?"With that, she got into the driver's seat and sped off. Soon, the car stopped outside Zane's apartment building. Zora headed straight upstairs, carrying a pack of antacids she'd picked up downstairs. She typed in the code, stepped into the master bedroom, and softened her voice into a concerned lilt. "Zane, your mom said your stomach's acting up again—I came to check on you." Zane lay in bed, soaking up the concern. "Have you eaten yet?" Zora asked. "If not, I'll whip up some soup for you." That hit him hard. She's all dolled up, and here she is offering to cook for me. And I was giving her grief over stupid little things earlier. I was such an idiot. He reached for her hand. "I'm not hungry, Zora. You're too good to me.""Of course I am," Zora said, sliding right into his arms. She tilted her head up at him, eyes soft and shy. "We're basically engaged, remember? We're supposed to have each other's backs." Inside, she was praising her mother's advice. Men are at their most vulnerable when they're sick. A little warmth is all it takes for their gratitude. With a sweet smile, Zora got up to pour him a glass of water. Once he'd drunk it all, she removed her coat. "I worked up a sweat on the way here. You don't mind if I grab a quick shower here, do you?" Zane didn't mind at all. Ten minutes later, the sound of running water came from the master bathroom. Zane suddenly felt a strange warmth spreading through his body—especially when he caught sight of that hazy figure through the frosted glass. His throat went dry instantly. The empty water cup on the table didn't help one bit; whatever was building up low in his stomach only got stronger. Zora emerged just then, wearing one of his white dress shirts. She gave a bashful smile. "I couldn't find a bathrobe. I hope you don't mind me borrowing your shirt." Zane wiped the sweat from his forehead, forcing a smile. "O-of course not." "Oh no, you're sweating so bad! Do you have a fever?" Zora asked, feigning worry. She laid a cool hand on his forehead, her body pressing almost flush against his chest. Zane's eyes dropped to her flushed cheeks, the curve of her chest under her thin top, the bare skin of her legs peeking out below... His Adam's apple bobbed hard. Instinct took over—he flipped Zora onto the bed and hovered over her. Zora locked her arms around his neck, meeting him just as eager. But right when the heat between them was about to boil over, Zane suddenly froze, then went limp. Zora was stunned. Zane buried his face in her neck, apologizing. "Sorry. I—I'm sick today. My body's not up to it." Coming back to her senses, Zora soothed him—and herself. He's sick. Not up for it. That's normal.