"That girl actually dared to mess with you? Gutsy," Ethan said with a smirk, clearly intrigued.

"I'll find out who owns that car. And once I do... want me to hand her over to you?"

"Don't bother," Theodore replied flatly.

"Huh... okay." Ethan found that odd but didn't push.

Clarice pulled her hand back, gripped the wheel, and shot toward the finish line with a victorious grin.

She knew she had this race in the bag.

The prize money-yeah, it was all hers.

The weight sitting on her shoulders finally felt a little lighter, and she actually let out a laugh.

Meanwhile, Chloe had gone pale and silent.

"What's wrong?" Clarice eased off the gas slightly, glancing at her in confusion.

That little stunt back there? Compared to the stuff they'd been through before, it was nothing. Chloe shouldn't be this shaken up.

Chloe was staring at her phone, her face drained of color.

"Relax, Chloe. The car's fine. Not a scratch," Clarice said, assuming Chloe was worried about the car-after all, it belonged to her brother, and explaining any damage would've been a nightmare.

"It's not that," Chloe said quietly, voice tight.

"Clarice... that car back there-it was Theodore's."

"Theodore's," Clarice repeated, the word feeling foreign on her adrenaline-numbed tongue. Then, like a bucket of ice water, understanding crashed down.

She slammed the brakes.

"Wait-what? Theodore?!"

Panic surged through her. She snatched Chloe's phone and stared at the screen, frozen in disbelief.

There it was-a photo of a sleek, limited-edition Porsche. The caption confirmed it:

Only one in all of Velmont. Owned by none other than Theodore Grant.

"There's no way that was him... right?"

Chloe nodded.

"Pretty sure it was."

He'd been driving too fast for her to get a clear look at first, but when the car slowed down, she'd checked. Combined with what she found online, there was no doubt-it was him.

"We're screwed."

"We didn't just make him crash... we flipped him off."

Clarice's earlier excitement vanished. All she could think now was: she was dead.

If Theodore found out the "sweet, obedient" girl he married was actually the wild thing who just made him crash a Porsche?

She was done for. He'd probably kick her out and send her straight back to the Sullivans.

And once Charles realized she was no longer useful, there was no telling what he'd do to Sophia.

Seeing the panic on her face, Chloe tried to calm her down.

"Don't freak out. You had makeup on, a wig, sunglasses... He probably didn't recognize you."

"Maybe we should just skip the award ceremony and head home?"

Clarice looked like she was about to cry.

Forget the prize money-she had no choice.

She couldn't risk giving Theodore even a sliver of recognition.

She had to get back to the Grant estate.

In the car, Clarice changed quickly into her "good girl" disguise-a white lace tea dress, modest and sweet.

As she got out and walked toward the house, Chloe shook her head in disbelief.

Looks could be deceiving.

Clarice might look like a soft, innocent girl on the outside, but deep down, she was a full-on wildcat.

And Theodore? The man actually believed her act.

Hopefully... he hadn't recognized her today.

Clarice greeted Mr. Chambers on her way in and went straight upstairs.

Aside from her, only Mr. Chambers and a few housekeepers lived in the mansion.

Since Theodore was rarely home, Clarice often slipped out under the excuse of visiting classmates.

Mr. Chambers never questioned her.

Compared to the Sullivan estate, this place gave her a kind of freedom she desperately needed.

She stepped into her room, and the fluffy Samoyed followed close behind.

"Snowy," she said, sitting by the window and glancing down at the white dog curled up beside her.

"Do you think your master recognized me today?"

Her mind was a mess. She kept staring outside, anxious she might miss the sound of Theodore's car returning.

Snowy looked up at her, let out a small whine, then flopped onto the floor.

"So... you don't know either, huh?" she murmured.

She was used to talking to herself.

Back at the Sullivan estate, Sophia was the only one who ever really listened.

At least here, she had a dog.

"If he did recognize me... he'd be furious, wouldn't he?"

"He'd think I lied to him. That I tricked him."

"But really... I didn't have a choice. I was never the sweet, obedient girl he wanted. I just pretended to be. If I didn't, Charles would've taken it out on Sophia."

Sophia had always protected her.

Now it was her turn to protect Sophia.

"God..." she sighed.

"I don't even know when I'll be able to get her out of that place."

Clarice could leave the Sullivan family easily enough.

She could work, survive on her own. She wasn't helpless.

But Sophia was different. Her health had been unstable for years. Clarice couldn't care for her alone.

And Charles would never let her go.

Clarice gently patted Snowy's head.

"Let's hope your master has bad eyesight."

She waited by the window for a long time, eventually dozing off on the carpet-completely unaware that Theodore had already returned.

He opened the bedroom door and immediately saw them-two white figures curled up by the glass.

One girl. One dog.

Both fast asleep by the window.

And for a moment... he couldn't help but remember a girl who once said she wanted to be his wife.

And that she'd wait for him, every night, until he came home.

When his gaze fell upon Clarice's sleeping face, Theodore slowed his footsteps.

He wasn't sure why, but he found himself simply standing there, staring at her serene and peaceful expression.

Catching sight of her bare feet, he paused, then crouched down and gently lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the bed.

By the time Theodore came in, Snowy was already awake. Thinking Theodore was there to pet it, the dog excitedly wiggled around him. But knowing Theodore's obsession with cleanliness, it didn't dare lick his pant leg-just bounced anxiously at his feet, hoping for attention.

But the moment Snowy saw Theodore carrying Clarice, it instantly felt neglected and let out a soft whimper of protest.

Clarice stirred slightly as she was lifted. Her eyes fluttered open, and the first thing she saw was Theodore's face.

"Uncle..." she mumbled sleepily.

The word made his jaw tighten. He hated that title, preferring the soft "husband" she used when awake. But seeing her drowsy innocence, his irritation faded into something softer.

He laid her gently on the bed before turning to head into the bathroom for a shower.

Compared to the floor, the bed felt like heaven. Clarice sank into it and dozed off for a while, until something felt off.

Did she dream about Theodore? No-she had seen him. It was real.

Opening her eyes, she was surprised to find herself alone in bed-not even Snowy was there.

Did she climb up here by herself?

Just then, the bathroom door suddenly opened. Theodore walked out, shirtless, droplets of water still trickling down his chest. He hadn't fully dried off.

Clarice's eyes widened as she struggled to keep a straight face.

Then, she suddenly remembered what she had done to him during the race. She sat up and asked in a sweetly reproachful voice, "I was waiting for you, but I must've fallen asleep. Why did you get back so late?"

Theodore didn't expect Clarice to be so concerned about him, and a trace of warmth flickered in his chest as he replied gently, "There was a bit of a situation on the way back. It took longer than expected."

Clarice carefully observed his expression and tone. He seemed completely natural, even a little tender.

Now she was sure-he hadn't recognized her!

She let out a quiet sigh of relief, barely able to contain her excitement. She was practically bursting with joy, trying not to laugh.

"Oh," Clarice feigned surprise and walked up to him, her voice filled with concern. "Honey, are you hurt?"

"Honey?" he repeated slowly. Hadn't she just called him "uncle"?

Clarice reached out to check him for injuries.

Her hand gradually made its way to his chest.

Smooth. Firm. The sensation was amazing.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Clarice snapped out of it and quickly pulled her hand back.

"Looks like you're fine. That's a relief!" she said, taking a sharp breath and turning to walk away.

Those muscles. too perfect. She completely forgot what she was doing.

"You know you're playing with fire, right?" Theodore said as he suddenly pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

With just one kiss, Clarice felt her whole body ignite.

"Let's try a French kiss," Theodore teased, his eyes smoldering.

He pried her lips open with his tongue, plunging in deeply. Clarice gently responded with her own, matching his rhythm. What started as a gentle breeze soon turned into an all-out invasion of each other's territory.

Desire burned hotter and hotter. From the doorway, to the table, and finally to the bed-their clothes somehow vanished along the way.

"You're already soaking wet," Theodore murmured as he withdrew his slick fingers and switched to another weapon for the second half.

After her final breathless "I'm coming," Clarice looked at the man before her and had to admit-he really was devastatingly handsome.

"What are you staring at?" Theodore asked playfully, then pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair and inhaling deeply.

Clarice felt his warm breath against her ear, and suddenly, a deep sense of peace and safety washed over her.

As she drifted into exhaustion, she felt him harden against her once more.

No way. Looks like the night wasn't over yet.

-----

The next day, when Chloe heard that Theodore hadn't recognized Clarice, she snapped.

"He must be blind!" she ranted, pacing the room. "Okay, fine-your 'bad girl' makeup was heavy, but two encounters? That man either has amnesia or your disguise skills are award-winning."

Whatever the reason, staying unrecognized was a win for Clarice.

But just as she was basking in relief, another thought slammed into her: her bet with Leo.

The loser had to run around City Square. Naked.

Sure, she technically came in first in that race, but. she had never actually crossed the finish line. Her car had dropped out of the race. Which meant-yep, Leo had won.

Crap. Judging by the guy's smug look, he was probably from some prestigious family. There was no way she could pretend like the bet hadn't happened.

And her? A girl? Running around naked in public? That would be beyond humiliating. Not to mention, she'd totally drag Theodore's reputation down with her.

Chloe, genius as always and utterly shameless, offered a solution: "You could wear a mask. Then no one would recognize you!"

Clarice just stared at her in silence.

Taking her silence as approval, Chloe grinned proudly and added, "Come on, admit it-it's a good idea, right?"

"Get lost," Clarice grumbled. Mask or no mask, streaking was still streaking.

Just then, her phone rang-it was Charles calling. Suddenly, she remembered: she never mentioned the dinner at the Sullivan house to Theodore.

"Clarice, what did Theodore say?" her father asked the second she picked up.

"Huh?" She mumbled, caught off guard-then it hit her. Oh no, the dinner. She was supposed to bring Theodore.

But after last night, she'd been too worried he might connect her to the street racing-and then he'd kept her up until three or four in the morning. she had completely forgotten to ask him about it.

"Dad, just didn't find the right moment to tell him," she admitted.

The moment the words left her mouth, Charles's tone turned frosty.

"Then hurry up. I told you, we need Theodore's help to close this major deal. If he refuses, we're basically finished," he said bluntly.

"Yeah, I get it," Clarice replied carelessly.

The Sullivan family business these days? Nothing like what her mother had built from scratch. And even if there was anything left, it would all end up in Margaret and Lydia's hands. She would get nothing. Letting it all crumble would only drag down Charles and Margaret.

"Don't come home for the next few days-I'll take care of Sophia," he added.

That sentence made Clarice's heart clench instantly. He was using her little sister as leverage-again.