Melanie's clothes were disheveled in the surveillance footage. Her smooth shoulders were especially eye-catching in the high-quality video. There was also an odd-looking ring of red on her neck.

She felt like she couldn't breathe as her heart hammered against her ribcage. She completely forgot the script she had mentally prepared.

Melanie knew that surveillance cameras were installed in the living room, but she didn't expect Derrick to install such a high-definition camera right outside his own bedroom. She didn't think that any normal person would do that.

She opened her mouth, wanting to say something. The words died on her tongue when she looked at Derrick's face, which was as dark as coals. She decided to give up on explaining herself altogether and simply hung her head, saying, "I'm sorry, Mr. Quinton."

Derrick gritted his teeth furiously. "What did you do to me?" he demanded.



Derrick was in a terrible mood. The two biggest tragedies in his life were caused by women.

"Are you still angry, Rick?"

Wilson had snuck into the villa. He shook his head when he saw Derrick directing his subordinates to plant rare flowers in his garden.

Shawn Quinton, Derrick's nephew, had followed Wilson into the villa as well. He looked at Derrick, who was seated in his wheelchair, and greeted him politely, "Uncle Derrick."

Derrick wasn't bothered enough to deal with Shawn. He rolled his eyes at him and asked, "Who let you in?"

Shawn scratched his head and said, "My father. He asked me to check on you."

Derrick scoffed. "I'm sorry to disappoint the two of you, but I'm not dead yet."

Shawn choked at being on the receiving end of Derrick's sharp tongue. "You must be joking, Uncle Derrick." He looked around before continuing, "Did you really fire that caretaker? Honestly, you sho

"The Quinton family doesn't have to worry about not having any heirs in the future. Just look at what's happening now. All the riffraffs are coming out to celebrate because of the rumors of your bloodline going extinct," Wilson said earnestly.

He laughed wildly before continuing, "Those books are my treasures. Be sure to put them to good use."

Derrick glanced at Melanie subconsciously, worried that she would hear Wilson's words. He cursed at Wilson, wondering if the latter had lost his mind before ordering Melanie to throw the books away. He felt as if he would dirty his hands just from touching the books for even a second too long.

Not wanting to continue this particular conversation, Derrick coldly asked, "How is your daughter doing?"

Melanie didn't expect him to show concern for Louisa. She was stunned for a moment before answering, "She's fine now."

Since she didn't elaborate, Derrick also didn't press her for more details. As for the issue of the advanced salary from the day before, none of them breathed a single word about it.

When night fell, the task of cleaning Derrick's body became their greatest hassle.

Melanie was too timid to bring it up first after what happened last time, but she knew that there was no avoiding it, as it was now part of her responsibilities. 

Derrick also knew that it was inevitable, but he couldn't help but feel a little regretful when it actually came time for Melanie to wipe him down. 

He felt incredibly uncomfortable whenever he remembered how she had looked at him like a predator stalking its prey. On top of that, he thought that it would be unbearably awkward if he had a reaction again.

They continued to delay the inevitable and were still frozen in place when Jemima finished tidying up the kitchen and prepared to turn in for the night. She reminded, "You're not supposed to stay up late, Mr. Quinton. You should get clean and sleep soon."

She then shot a smile in Melanie's direction.

Melanie looked at Derrick carefully before she wheeled him back to his room. She then left to prepare some warm water. When she returned, Derrick was pretending to flip through the television channels.

His face was a mask of indifference when he said, "I hope you don't get any funny ideas this time. I'm not someone you can toy with as you please."

Melanie pursed her lips and nodded. She kept her mind free of all thoughts and refused to let her eyes stray. She needed to get used to this. However, when she was wiping Derrick's legs, she realized that something was amiss.

Feeling confused, she forgot all about what had happened the last time and subconsciously looked up. A brief glance was enough to leave her stunned in place.

Derrick's entire body had also stiffened. It was one thing for him to have a reaction last time, but it was another matter altogether for him to have a reaction when Melanie had only just started wiping him down. 

Everything had happened too suddenly, and the situation was spiraling out of his control before he even realized it. He inhaled deeply, still in disbelief that his lower region had actually recovered. Although at that moment, he wished he hadn't recovered at all, especially since Melanie had caught him in the act.

Derrick recalled how he had even berated her earlier while filled with self-righteousness. His eyes flashed as he scolded, "Are you peeking again?"

Melanie trembled all over. She wished that the ground would just open up and swallow her whole. She jumped to her feet. Her face had turned a bright shade of red as she exclaimed, "I didn't peek! You're the one who had a reaction first!"

Derrick felt a little annoyed. Was she making fun of him for having a reaction toward an old woman?

"It's almost morning, so it's perfectly normal for me to have a reaction. Don't you have any basic knowledge about how the human body works?"

Melanie felt like she was on the verge of tears. "You shouldn't blame me then."

Derrick choked on his words at her response. A brief moment of silence passed before he turned his head away and said haughtily, "You're still in the wrong for staring at it."

Melanie was rendered speechless by his words. He hated her so much. If he ever found out she had slept with him, he would likely kill her. She shivered at the thought.

She hastily tossed the towel aside, grabbed a fresh pair of underwear, and rushed to put them on him. She had completely lost her cool, and she could feel how hot her fingertips were. 

Melanie's heart hammered in her chest as she said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Quinton. I think I grabbed the wrong size. It's too small for you…"

The situation had turned even more awkward after she forcefully pulled the underwear up Derrick's legs. She was at a complete loss for what to do. In the end, she silently helped him put on his pajama pants as well before asking, "Do you feel uncomfortable, Mr. Quinton?"

Derrick felt extremely uncomfortable. He eyed her warily, asking, "What are you planning to do? I'll have you know that I don't need you."

Melanie awkwardly coughed. Even if she had unsavory thoughts about him, she wouldn't dare do anything when he was conscious. She said seriously, "I just wanted to ask if you'd like me to bring you the books that Dr. Moore prepared for you, Mr. Quinton."

Derrick's face darkened in an instant. "What are you trying to say?"

"You shouldn't hold yourself back when it comes to these things. You need to find a way to make yourself feel better. Don't worry. I won't make fun of you," Melanie said in a tone that suggested she understood what he was going through because she was older than he was.

His handsome face turned icy as glaciers formed in his eyes. A long moment passed before he choked out, "Get out."

Melanie breathed a sigh of relief, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She grabbed the basin of water and hurried out of the room as fast as she could.

Derrick lay stiffly on the bed. He realized he was growing increasingly uncomfortable and couldn’t stop the scenes from his dreams from flooding his tense mind.

He could hear a woman's slightly pained but pleasured cries and feel the strands of her hair tickle his chest. He trembled uncontrollably as his blood rushed downward. However, he had just lost his temper in front of Melanie and was too proud to ask her for help.

Melanie poured the water in the basin away. Her lips curved upward as she noticed Derrick trying to force a serious expression despite the pain on his face. She thought that he deserved what he got for being too proud to ask for help.

…

The next morning, Derrick was still feeling uncomfortable. He hadn't slept well, evident from the heavy bags under his eyes. He coldly ordered Renard to report the findings of his investigation. 

"There are three videos, Mr. Quinton. Someone had indeed entered your room. It's just that…" Renard mumbled.

Derrick shot an icy look at him. "Play the videos."

Half an hour later, Renard went to fetch Jemima and Melanie, who had woken up early to buy groceries. Renard took the bags from Melanie and inquired, "Be honest with me, Mel. Do you have inappropriate thoughts about Mr. Quinton?"

Melanie shook her head wildly.

"Are you sure?" Renard asked again, sounding like he didn't believe her.

"I don't."

Melanie clenched her hands discreetly. Inwardly, she sensed what was going on, but she pretended not to know why he was asking her such a question.

Renard looked at Melanie and said gravely, "Mr. Quinton isn't your run-of-the-mill wealthy man. He's not Juvillian, so you might not know this, but all he has to do is stamp his feet to send tremors throughout all of Juville. His father is part of the military, and his mother is the president of Apex Group."

"Apex Group?" Melanie asked, surprised.

She wasn't exceptionally knowledgeable about the business industry, but she had heard her father, Liam York, mention that Apex Group was among the top 50 businesses in the world. 

The company was involved in various industries, including finance, scientific research, gaming, and military affairs. Their total assets were worth trillions of dollars.

"That's right. His grandmother is the chairman of the board of directors in Apex Group as well," Renard continued. "Mr. Quinton didn't intend to take over the family business, but he was severely injured during one of his missions, so his body can't withstand high-intensity training anymore.

"As a result, Mr. Quinton left the military to take over the Quinton family's business. He managed to elevate the Quinton family to unprecedented heights in just a few years, greatly increasing the family's assets. Once the Quinton family has stabilized, he'll be taking over Apex Group."

Melanie was stunned by Renard's words. She never would have thought that that nitpicky bastard, Derrick, was actually such an outstanding person. In comparison, she had lived for more than two decades but hadn't achieved even a fraction of his success.

When she walked into the living room, the massive television screen was playing a video of her slipping out of Derrick's room, wearing disheveled clothes, on a loop. Her eyes widened as she froze in place.

Derrick's face was as dark as coal when he demanded, "How dare you crawl into my bed, Melanie York!"

Melanie's clothes were disheveled in the surveillance footage. Her smooth shoulders were especially eye-catching in the high-quality video. There was also an odd-looking ring of red on her neck.

She felt like she couldn't breathe as her heart hammered against her ribcage. She completely forgot the script she had mentally prepared.

Melanie knew that surveillance cameras were installed in the living room, but she didn't expect Derrick to install such a high-definition camera right outside his own bedroom. She didn't think that any normal person would do that.

She opened her mouth, wanting to say something. The words died on her tongue when she looked at Derrick's face, which was as dark as coals. She decided to give up on explaining herself altogether and simply hung her head, saying, "I'm sorry, Mr. Quinton."

Derrick gritted his teeth furiously. "What did you do to me?" he demanded.

Melanie knew that she had to deny any and all accusations that he flung at her, no matter the cost. 

Chapter 8