She groggily sat up, the strap of her nightdress slipping off one shoulder with the movement, but she didn't notice at all.
As the fridge door opened, a wave of cold air hit her face.
She took out a bottle of mineral water, twisted off the cap, and tilted her head back for a big gulp.
The cool water slid down her throat, slightly relieving the dryness.
Just as she gently placed the bottle on the counter, she suddenly heard the "taptaptap" of keyboard typing not far away.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively turned her head to look.
Her eyes met with the man in the corner of the sofa.
Tristan Sterling remained seated, his long fingers slowly tapping on the laptop, his expression focused.
But his gaze had already lifted, landing directly on her.
"You haven't left yet?"
Vivian Sinclair paused, blurting out in surprise.
"It's so late, why are you still here?"
Tristan didn't answer immediately.
His gaze lingered on her for a moment.
