It was pouring rain that day, and I knew Richard would come to pick up Thomas.

Because it was Thomas's eighteenth birthday.


I accompanied him in the library, studying until evening.

The downpour outside was truly heaven-sent, coming at the perfect time.

"What should we do? It's pouring out there. Claire, how will you get home?"


It was time to tell him—to reveal my pitiful, tragic background to this kind-hearted rich boy.

I looked up at him, seemingly hesitant to speak, but tears welled up and spilled over.


"Claire, what's wrong?"

Thomas froze for a second before hurriedly pulling tissues from his backpack to wipe my tears.

"Claire, don't cry. Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry, okay?"

This was the first time I'd cried in front of him.

The effect seemed quite good.

I grabbed his sleeve, choking with sobs. "Thomas, I haven't had a home for a long time."

He stared at me in shock, his eyes flashing with remorse and heartache.

He slapped his own forehead. "God, I'm so sorry. Claire, where have you been living all this time?"

"I rented a place, but I couldn't afford it anymore so I had to move out," I turned away, feeling a genuine ache in my eyes, truly wanting to cry. "It's fine, I can crash in the classroom, or on the sports field. I'm used to it anyway."

Thomas lowered his head, suddenly falling silent.

Shortly after, a phone rang.

Thomas answered on speakerphone, and a deep, magnetic voice came through: "I'm downstairs. Hurry up."

My heart jolted, excitement sparking in my chest.

Thomas grabbed my hand, speaking firmly for the first time: "Claire, come with me. You're coming home with me."

I lowered my gaze and followed him out of the library's main entrance, seeing Richard leaning against his luxury sedan.

With just one glance, I completely understood why my mother had been so hopelessly devoted.

Richard Collins truly possessed the qualities to drive countless women crazy.

Thomas led me to Richard.

I looked at him with innocent, wet eyes, timidly sizing him up.

Richard seemed not to notice me, or rather, showed complete indifference.

He didn't seem particularly concerned about Thomas either.

"Dad, this is my friend. She's going to live with me from now on."

Richard checked his Rolex. "We're running late. Don't keep your grandfather waiting. As for your friend..."

He casually glanced at me, his gaze freezing for a moment, something flickering behind his eyes.

He stepped forward, narrowing his eyes to examine me carefully.

"Fine."

He turned to open the car door.

Thomas happily took my hand. "Claire, my dad agreed. Now we can be together every day."

I looked at his innocent smile, feeling something twist in my heart.

After getting into the car with Thomas, Richard focused solely on driving, never once looking at me.

Only when we were about to get out did he suddenly ask Thomas, "What's your friend's name?"

"Her name is—"

"Just call me Claire."

I interrupted before Thomas could answer.

Richard lowered his head with a smile, casually lighting a cigarette. "Claire. Beautiful name."