Summer Ford spent about forty minutes soaking in the bath.
After a long time in there, she wrapped herself in a towel and walked out, just as a knock suddenly sounded on the door.
Summer hesitated for a moment, her heart suddenly tightening with apprehension.
"Who is it?" she asked cautiously, fearing it might be Ronan Ford.
"Miss, room service, I'm here to deliver breakfast!" came the respectful voice of the server outside.
Summer breathed a slight sigh of relief, took a few steps over, opened the door a crack, and reached out to take the food, when suddenly a huge force pushed from outside, followed by a commotion.
The previously quiet hallway instantly erupted like a boiling pot.
"Mr Laurent, we heard you arranged to meet Miss Ivy Keats here last night, is that true?"
"Mr Laurent, what is your relationship with Miss Ivy Keats?"
"Miss Ivy Keats only turned seventeen this year, Mr Laurent, do you have anything to say about such a scandalous evening?"
"How do you explain Miss Ivy Keats frequently visiting the Laurent Family, Mr Laurent?"
"How long have you two been seeing each other? Has the family approved?"
...
One question after another surged forward like a ferocious tide, overwhelming and engulfing everything.
Summer had no time to understand the situation before intense flashes swept over her direction, followed closely by the nonstop clicking of camera shutters.
Summer, wrapped in a towel, reflexively lowered her head and raised her arms to cover her face.
She wanted to retreat back into the room and close the door, but the force of those pushing the door from outside was too strong; with her strength alone, she couldn't possibly resist all those people.
"Don't shoot! Please stop taking pictures!" Summer shielded her face and dodged left and right, but the swarm of reporters at the doorway was like a hive of angry bees, crazily pushing towards her.
The scene was complete chaos.
Summer, driven back by the crowd, was almost crushed into a flat pancake.
When yet another person was about to push through, someone unexpectedly slammed into her.
Staggering backward, Summer lost her balance and lurched toward the wall beside her.
Her expression shifted, and she frantically tried to steady herself, but just in time, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist with greater speed.
Raising her head, she found an extra figure standing beside her.
Ethan Laurent, wrapped in a bathrobe, stood by her side, pressing her head into his chest while his cold gaze slowly scanned the remaining faces of those present.
The appearance of the male lead sent the group of journalists into a frenzy.
"Mr Laurent, please say something!"
"Yes, tell us!"
The crowd surged towards them maniacally, cameras clicking incessantly, almost using up all the film.
Summer had no idea what was happening, desperately not wanting her face exposed, as she burrowed further into Ethan Laurent's embrace.
Up until yesterday, she had been an untainted college student, and although by this morning she was already stained, if the matter of her entanglement with a man overnight were exposed before so many reporters, how would she ever get married? How would others view her when she walked around campus?
Moreover, Summer did not want last night's incident to reach her foster father.
She was panicking, continuously shielding her face, never once looking up.