Vicky picked up the crutch and fumbled out of bed. To avoid any pressure on her injured ankle, she hopped out with one leg and moved extremely slowly.

Since Tyler lived alone, his apartment had three rooms in total and was decorated in a modern style.

Judging from the colors and decorations in the apartment, one would conclude that Tyler was a stern and boring man. There were no paintings or plants—only what was necessary.

As she walked past the kitchen, she spotted Tyler cooking inside.

Tyler wore a spotless white shirt that accentuated his jade-like skin, with a slightly open collar and sleeves meticulously rolled up with precision.

Despite all the smoke in the kitchen, he exuded an innate elegance, moving with grace and poise, untainted by earthly grime.

Vicky, too, came from a wealthy family, but compared to him, she felt rather plain.

As she watched him, Tyler seemed to sense something and lifted his head to look toward the door. “Why are you here?”

her, but she knew exactly what

dark expression on Tyler’s face eased. “Go

soon as she took her seat,

taken care of Tyler for a time and knew that apart from being a

being difficult but realized at this moment that Tyler had the

and were way

took in the fragrance of the food, and

at her. “You can go ahead and

to be rude. “I’ll

to,” he said. “I’m heading

“Yeah. To work.”

to stay home until noon because of her. Feeling

time I’ll come home

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