The driver's thick accent was charming. Darcy found herself smiling. "A small island. As for the scenery... well, I didn't really notice. We fought, and then I ended up in the hospital for a couple of days." She tapped her leg and gave the driver a rueful shrug. The driver's eyes widened. He shot Lucian a look that was a mix of surprise and deep concern. Lucian, having just finished dealing with a batch of work emails, missed the exchange entirely. He glanced up, catching the driver's strange stare. He frowned slightly and leaned closer to Darcy, whispering, "What were you two talking about? Why is he looking at me like that?" Darcy rubbed her chin, feigning seriousness. "Maybe he fancies you? You know, around here..."She let the implication hang in the air. Lucian stared at her, speechless. Arriving at the apartment building, Lucian got out first, then helped Darcy and the wheelchair out as he had when they got in. "Bye!" Darcy waved cheerfully to the driver. The man, who had been wrestling with himself the entire ride, finally gathered his courage and leaned out the window, calling loudly, "Hey, miss! In Londyn, domestic violence is a crime! I can help you call the police if you need!" Lucian's hands froze on the wheelchair handles. He stood utterly rigid. Domestic violence? Who? Me? Darcy was also stunned. Her cheeks flushed as she waved her hands frantically. "No, no! You've got it all wrong! It wasn't that! I... I was in an accident!" The driver visibly relaxed. "Oh, thank goodness! My mistake. Sorry about that!" Once inside the elevator, Lucian couldn't help but let out a low, incredulous laugh. What a ridiculous misunderstanding.But beneath the absurdity, he felt an unexpected flicker of amusement. His life had been so stagnant for so long. Nothing this interesting had happened in ages. Even being falsely accused felt oddly entertaining. The little incident was quickly forgotten. The elevator took them up to the sixteenth floor. After getting Darcy settled, Lucian put his jacket back on. Darcy looked puzzled. "It's so late. Where are you going?" "I need to go to the office to handle some work. I might be late. Wait for me here, alright?" Darcy nodded obediently. "Okay." This was a one-bedroom apartment. Lucian had lived here alone for years. Now there was someone else in this space—a woman, no less. For a fleeting, disorienting moment, it created the illusion of... a home. Hah. He scoffed inwardly. What home?Their connection in the past had been brief. They were supposed to have gone their separate ways, never to meet again. This was just a strange twist of fate. Once her family showed up, or once she got her memory back, they'd have no reason to cross paths. After Lucian left, Darcy wheeled herself around the apartment, looking at everything. The longer she looked, the stranger she felt. There was no trace of her here at all. Only one pair of slippers by the door. Only one toothbrush and a cup in the bathroom. Even the bed had just a single pillow. Am I really his girlfriend? Just then, the doorbell rang. Thinking Lucian had forgotten something, Darcy hurried to answer it. This would be a good chance to ask him directly about their relationship. But the person at the door wasn't Lucian. It was a kindly-looking elderly gentleman. Seeing Darcy, a stranger, he looked startled but remained polite. "Excuse me, is Mr. Yorke home?" "He went to his office to handle some work. Might be back late," Darcy explained. The old man's face fell with disappointment. He nodded at Darcy. "I see. Thank you." As he turned to leave, Darcy called after him. "Sir? Is there something I can help you with? Maybe I can pass on a message?" The man gave her a skeptical once-over and shook his head. "I'm afraid you probably can't." "What is it?" "Oh, my computer has a terrible virus. I've had a few repairmen look at it, but no luck. I remember Mr. Yorke is quite skilled with these things. I thought he might be able to help." Darcy felt her fingers twitch with interest. After hearing his description, she said, "If you don't mind, you could bring it here. I can take a look." "You?" The old man couldn't hide his surprise, clearly thinking she was joking. What could a young girl possibly know about such things? But then he reconsidered. He had no other options, and waiting for Lucian could take hours. So he shuffled off downstairs and returned, carefully carrying his laptop. Darcy invited him in for a cup of coffee. She balanced the laptop on her knees, her fingers flying across the keyboard. In what seemed like no time at all, she handed it back. "There. All fixed." The old man coughed in surprise. He hadn't even finished half his coffee! Fixed? Already? Faster than Mr. Yorke? Skeptical, he took the laptop back, entered his password, logged in, and opened his usual browser. It worked perfectly. His jaw dropped. "Incredible! That's simply incredible!" He closed the laptop and looked at Darcy with new eyes, his expression turning curious. "Are you... Mr. Yorke's girlfriend?" Darcy hesitated for a split second, then gave a somewhat embarrassed nod. "Yes." A complex, unreadable emotion flickered deep in the old man's eyes, gone in an instant. He smiled, a look of understanding dawning. "I always thought he was single. Turns out he has a capable girlfriend—no wonder."