Cloud City, in the restroom on the fourth floor of the most exclusive leisure club "Cloud Top".

Amy Winchester splashes her face with cold water, yet her body is still uncomfortably hot, her head hazy, and even her vision is blurry.

She hadn't drunk that much, so why did she feel so drunk?

"Hehe, Amy, feeling hot, are you? Let me help you cool off." Mr. Evans, a round-faced, big-bellied man in his fifties, embraced Amy from behind and pecked her neck, regardless of her strenuous struggles.

Overcome with fear and fury that churned her stomach, Amy drove her stiletto down onto Mr. Evans's foot with all her strength. As he recoiled in pain, she seized the moment to wrench herself free and stumbled out of the restroom.

Various offensive sounds could be heard escaping from the half-open private rooms lining the corridor.

Running in a panic to the end of the corridor, Amy dashed into the elevator just as the doors happened to open, trying to escape the man, Mr. Evans. However, she unexpectedly bumped into another man's chest.

The man's chest was too firm, causing a headache-inducing impact on Amy that made her head spin. Lifting her head, she saw a tall, handsome young man dressed in a black suit and white shirt, with several distinguished-looking men behind him.

The man disgustingly pushed her away, causing her to stumble back a few steps and fall. Her palm scraped the floor, leaving a bloody trace, causing her to scream in pain. Who is this fierce man?

The man ignored her, stepped out of the elevator, and strode away.

Behind him, a handsome youngster who looked much like Tom Holland in casual white clothes, whistled, "Tsk, tsk, Riley, don't you think that girl looks familiar?"

The man, also known as Riley Baker, turned around and glanced down at Amy, his gaze deepened, he paused his steps, and the men surrounding him also stopped on the spot.

Mr. Evans had followed by then. He was intimidated by the presence of the group and especially by the air of haughty disdain emanating from the man at the forefront. He greeted the man, nervously and subserviently, "Hello, Mr. Baker."

The man, known as Mr. Baker or Riley Baker, snorted in contempt and didn't even glance at Emmett. His intense gaze remained fixed solely on Amy.

Just as Mr. Evans was about to grab Amy from the floor, Riley Baker suddenly lifted his foot and kicked Mr. Evans sending him flying seven to eight meters away. Mr. Evans crashed on the ground, grimacing in pain, unable to get up for quite a while.

With her mind in turmoil, Amy, like a drowning person grasping at the last straw, took a few steps forward and dropped to her knees, clutching Riley's leg: "Save me...help me..."

A novel way of asking for help, is it?

Riley chuckled, about to kick her away. But as he looked down at a face so similar to the one he remembered, his heart trembled involuntarily. Instead, he changed his course of action, pulling her up and gripping her chin with his long fingers as he examined her.

Indeed, it was the same face, only altered. The once-small face he remembered was now emaciated beyond recognition, its pale complexion as a result of an illness. But the face before him was flushed unnaturally, her skin burning to the touch.

Connecting the dots to this venue and the look in Mr. Evans's eyes, Riley immediately understood that the girl had been drugged and was on the verge of being used.

Didn't Grandpa keep nagging about marriage? Perhaps it’s time he had a woman by his side. With this thought, Riley's mouth curved slightly, "I can save you, but after that, you must become my possession."

Being tormented by the drug, Amy was on the verge of madness. Her consciousness was so hazy that she could hardly hear what he was saying, yet she still nodded her agreement.

Riley picked her up, turned around and headed back to the elevator. The other men didn't react much, but the excessively handsome young man, Cole Jones, suddenly went pale and immediately followed, "Riley, you can't..."

"Get lost, Cole," Riley tossed him out of the elevator without diplomatic niceties. He didn't kick him as hard as he did Mr. Evans, it was merely meant to shake him off.

As the elevator doors closed, Cole Jones punched the wall in deep remorse.

Inside the luxurious presidential suite, reserved solely for Riley on the top floor of the five-star Baker's Hotel, Amy slept soundly until nearly noon after a tumultuous night.

When she woke up, she had a splitting headache, and her entire body ached as if every square inch of her had been smashed.

Bleary-eyed, she opened her eyes only to see a naked man half-lying next to her, looking at her inscrutably.

This man's face was divinely handsome, and his body was on par with top male models worldwide. However, the important detail was that he was completely naked and lying in bed with her. What on earth was happening?!

Frightened, Amy screamed. She glanced at the scattered clothes, the messed up bed, and her own body. In the face of his faintly amused gaze, she instantly realized what had happened.

Last night, while she was drinking with her fiance, Jack Miller, and Mr. Evans, she was secretly drugged. Seizing the opportunity, Mr. Emmett discreetly followed her to the restroom with ill intentions...

And then... she simply could not remember the rest. Could this man be a waiter or a gigolo from Cloud Top, someone she had used as a remedy for her confusion? But did Cloud Top's private rooms even include such luxurious bedrooms?

She didn't have time to dwell on her aches and pains. In a rush, Amy dressed frantically and said, "I'm sorry...this wasn’t intentional. Even my purse is missing, so I don’t have a single penny on me...”

She was about to dash off when Riley's face darkened. "Woman, have you forgotten our agreement last night? I saved you, and in return, you ought to be my plaything."

"Plaything? Are you... are you not a waiter or a gigolo?" Amy got even more terrified. "I apologize, but I'm about to get married to my fiancé. I will pay you some other day…”

Without waiting for Riley to say anything more, she stumbled out and fled from the room.

That damned woman not only broke her promise but also dared to label him as a lowly waiter or a gigolo. Riley's face turned even darker.

Aside from the fact that she resembled his former beloved, he merely took pity on her, acting as her medicine without expecting anything in return. Yet, she had the nerve to humiliate him?

He immediately dialed a number and ordered his assistant, John Ford, to investigate the woman who seemed unaware of the trouble she was in.