It took Giselle a long moment to steady herself and regain herposure. First things first-she had to deal with the immediate problem in front of her.


    Her expression softened as she turned to Ryan. "Let''s get dressed," she said gently.


    The two of them hurried to put their clothes back on.


    Meanwhile, Giselle had already formted her n. She sat on the edge of the bed, hershes trembling, and tears began to fall, silent and striking. There was something heartbreakingly beautiful about her tears only made her more irresistible.


    And sitting across from her was Ryan, a man who adored her beyond reason.


    He dropped to one knee in front of her, carefully taking her hand in his as if she might shatter. His voice was low, desperate tofort. “Giselle, please don''t cry. I promise I''ll take responsibility for everything. I''ll spend my whole life making it up to you I''ll give you everything I have. Whatever you want, I''ll make it yours. I swear it."


    Responsible? Giselle scoffed inwardly.


    Ryan was nothing to her. She didn''t care about the little he could offer. If his older brother Rnd had been the one making those promises, maybe her heart would have fluttered. But Ryan? He was nothing-a spoiled, useless rich kid.


    Still, she kept all that contempt locked away, her face a mask of heartbreak. The tears came harder, and when Ryan was nearly beside himself, almost swearing his soul to her, Giselle finally spoke through a choked sob.


    "But I only love Lysander. He''s the only one I want."


    The color drained from Ryan''s face, the light in his eyes flickering out. It took him a long time to force a painful smile. "Giselle, I really would treat you better than anyone ever could. Could you just... could you even look at me?"


    But the words died in his throat as he looked at her tear-stained face.


    He got it.


    Swallowing back the urge to cry himself, he forced out, voice trembling, "Giselle, I''ll forget what happened today. I''ll help you I''ll help you, I swear."


    He reached up to brush the tears from her cheeks, doing his best to steady his voice. "Please stop crying. I''ll help you win Lysander over. I promise I''ll help you marry into the Montgomery family."


    Giselle squeezed his hand gently, her eyes brimming with tears. "I''m sorry."


    Only after she''d calmed Ryan down did Giselle get the full story.


    Apparently, Ryan had been drinking heavily the night before and barely remembered a thing he had no idea which door he''d stumbled through. He''d ended up in her roompletely by ident.


    But then, what about Lysander? Where had he been?


    Pain stabbed through her head, making it hard to think. Her own memory ofst night was a blur-she couldn''t even remember when she''d cked out. Fighting her growing anxiety, Giselle called Lysander. It took a while before he finally answered, his voice rough with sleep.


    "Giselle?"


    Hearing him call her name the same as always, Giselle felt a small wave of relief. She carefully broached the subject. "Lysander, you drank a lotst night. I took you back to your room to rest, and I ended up lying down too-I was dizzy from the wine. But when I woke up, you were gone. Where did you go?"


    There was a pause on the other end before he replied, voice gentle. "I don''t really remember much. When I woke up, I was at home. Leonard must have brought me back."


    Leonard. Again.


    Giselle clenched her jaw, but Lysander''s voice softened. "Is everything okay, Giselle? Did something happen?"


    She quickly replied, "No, nothing. I just didn''t see you this morning and was worried."


    "I''m fine," he reassured her, his tone as gentle as ever. "Do you want me to send someone to pick you up?"


    Giselle refused. In her current state, she couldn''t risk being seen by Lysander''s people—besides, she had too many questions swirling in her mind.


    She needed to check the footage fromst night.


    Before leaving, she reminded Ryan several times to keep his mouth shut, and told him to find a chance to take her to see the As Language Model that Forrest had developed. Only then did she hurry home.


    She barely made it back to her room before pulling out her phone to check the video. But just as she opened the screen, a new email notification popped up at


    the top.


    It was from an anonymous sender.


    The subject line read: Everything You Want to Know.