Doris flung her coat at the waiting housekeeper and stalked upstairs, annoyance etched on her face. In the bedroom, Cedric tried once more to reason with her. Doris cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand. "If you're so set on this marriage alliance, you go talk to Clara. I'm not showing my face for this." "You—" Cedric sighed heavily. "An alliance between our two families would only strengthen the Knight Group. It would benefit you and Zephyr too." Doris snorted, "Don't think I'm fooled. You just want to pave the way for Jeremy to take over smoothly before you retire. Don't forget, he's not your only son. Zephyr is your son too. Why don't you consider matching Cindy with Zephyr instead? Their ages and personalities are far more compatible!" Cedric pinched the bridge of his nose, let out another long sigh, and ultimately said nothing.Cindy was in a foul mood. Instead of heading back to the Blackwood Villa, she drove to her own apartment. Spotting the convenience store downstairs, she stopped to grab a few bottles of wine before heading up. The moment the door clicked shut behind her and she kicked off her heels, a wave of exhaustion crashed over her. She let herself collapse onto the plush area rug. For now, she refused to think about why Jasper was back from abroad, or why he would visit the grave of the man who caused their father's death. She especially refused to ponder whether Zephyr knew his mother was scheming to set her up with Jeremy. All she wanted was to get drunk, pass out, and wake up tomorrow with a clean slate—all her worries magically forgotten. As a pleasant buzz began to soften the edges of her thoughts, her phone, discarded on the rug beside her, started ringing. Her mind foggy, Cindy ignored it, even covering her ears. But the ringtone was insistent, piercing through the haze like a relentless alarm. Annoyed, she fumbled for the phone, her speech slurring. "Hello? Who's this? D-disturbing my beauty sleep at this hour... You b-better have a damn good reason, or you're toast!" It was Zephyr on the other end. He heard something off in her voice and frowned. "Are you drunk? Where are you? A bar or at home?" His deep, magnetic voice filtered through the speaker, sending a strange, tingling sensation through her ear. She instinctively reached up to touch it. She stared up at the blinding ceiling light, which made her head spin. "Who are you?" she demanded, her words still tangled. "Mind your own b-business!" Zephyr's frown deepened. He immediately stopped working, snatched his jacket, and headed for the underground garage, listening intently to the background noise on the call. It was quiet. Too quiet for a bar. She was probably at home.But just to be sure, he quickly called a few bars she used to frequent. Confirmation that she wasn't at any of them allowed a sliver of tension to leave his shoulders. Sliding into his car, Zephyr hit the accelerator, speeding straight toward Cindy's apartment building. Going by memory from last time, he took the elevator up and pressed the video doorbell. A few moments later, the door cracked open, revealing Cindy's confused face. "Who is it?" The words had barely left her mouth before she lost her balance, stumbling backward. Zephyr reacted instantly, his arm shooting out to catch her around the waist, steadying her. He kicked the door shut behind him and, without ceremony, scooped her up into his arms. His gaze fell on the empty wine bottle on the coffee table. A soft, exasperated sigh escaped him. "Little lush." Cindy mumbled into his shoulder, "You're the lush. Your whole family's a bunch of lushes!" Zephyr wisely chose not to argue with a drunk. He set her down carefully on the sofa, hung up his jacket, and then went to the living area to gather all the remaining alcohol. Next, he rolled up his sleeves and headed for the kitchen. Finding some ingredients in the fridge, he quickly whipped up a hangover soup. While the soup simmered, he took a moment to really look around the apartment. This was only his second time here. The first time, he'd woken up in a panic and left in a hurry, never taking it in. Now, he noticed how warm and cozy the place felt. Even a bit princessy. A softness touched his eyes. So, for all her tough, brash, live-out-loud exterior, Cindy still has the heart of a little girl who dreams of fairy tales. He remembered how, as kids, she'd always trailed after him, begging him to play house with her. She'd always cast herself as the princess, and him as either the prince or the knight. She had a crush on me even back then, didn't she? His expression grew even gentler as he watched the woman sprawled inelegantly on the couch. Once the soup was ready, he poured a bowl, blew on it to cool it down, and brought it to her. With some patient coaxing, he managed to get her to drink about half. He didn't waste the rest. Without bothering to get a clean spoon, he finished the bowl himself. The soup, however, did little to calm Cindy. Now she was fussing about needing a bath. The soup needed time to work—at least half an hour. But she was having none of it, insisting loudly on her bath. Seeing no other option, Zephyr got up to run the bath for her. To avoid putting any extra strain on her cardiovascular system, he carefully adjusted the water to a lukewarm temperature. But then— His gaze drifted back to the sofa, where Cindy was now struggling clumsily to peel off her clothes. His throat went dry. By the time she was down to her underwear, he strode over and caught her wrists. Even though they'd been intimate before, watching her undress right in front of him sent his heart hammering against his ribs. Once again, he gathered her into his arms and carried her to the bathtub.