The server didn't dare slack off. He immediately boxed up the remaining fruit, placed it in a plastic bag, and politely handed it to Grayson.
"Mr. Caldwell, I'll give Young Master a ride back!" Victoria volunteered.
"Very well. Please ensure Young Master Grayson's safety," Caldwell nodded in agreement.
One after another, Caldwell and the other executives said their farewells to Grayson and departed in separate cars. Before long, only Victoria and Grayson remained.
For some reason, now that they were alone, Grayson felt less exhilarated and more… intimidated. Perhaps it was Victoria's head‐turning figure—even her height loomed large in his eyes. Grayson was already 1.88 meters tall, but Victoria wore heels that made her seem nearly as tall as him. Still, she was probably around 1.72 meters, give or take. Either way, that hourglass silhouette was impossible not to notice.
Beyond her physique, Victoria exuded a mature, commanding aura—an air of "older woman" charm that suggested she'd been through far more than he ever had. All of that combinedness to put Grayson on edge, as though she could read right through him.
"Young Master Grayson, please climb in," Victoria said, opening the rear door.
To his surprise, the car waiting there was a Mercedes‐Benz G500—a bold, imposing SUV few women would drive. Grayson slid inside, still feeling awkward that it was just the two of them in the car. At the dinner table earlier, neither of them had broached the subject of what happened in the elevator. Outwardly, everyone had brushed it aside for the sake of decorum . But in the privacy of the car, that memory resurfaced, and Grayson realized he could no longer avoid it.
He wracked his brain, trying to figure out how to bring it up. Before he could speak, Victoria broke the silence.
"By the way, Young Master Grayson, I owe you an apology for being late today," she said casually.
"Oh, it's nothing," Grayson blurted out, his heart hammering. They both knew exactly why she was late—because of what happened in the elevator.
Victoria remained quiet, and the car fell silent again.
"Actually, something funny happened in the restroom," she continued after a moment, sounding amused. "When I was about to dampen a tissue to wipe my blouse, a cleaning lady came up and asked why I had…uh, a man's semen on my chest. She even suggested calling the cops to catch the guy who desecrated me. Ha—can you imagine? I told her it was just a misunderstanding. Isn't that hilarious?" She gave Grayson a sidelong glance and smiled conspiratorially.
Instantly, Grayson's cheeks blazed hot. His mind reeled back to the elevator, to the way his body reacted—uncontrolled and embarrassingly obvious. And now Victoria was recounting the aftermath to him as if it were a private joke.
"Mrs. Victoria, I'm so sorry," Grayson finally blurted, steeling himself. "In the elevator, I did look at you, and I did get your blouse dirty. That was entirely my fault—please forgive me."
"Haha," Victoria laughed. "Young Master Grayson, it's my honor that you looked at me. I can't accept such a solemn apology from you. And, besides, I was the one who slapped you—so it's really me who should be apologizing!" She gave him a teasing smile. "Tell me, Young Master Grayson—what part of my body did you think was the most attractive?"
Her tone was playful yet seductive, her eyes dancing with mischief. Grayson's face felt like it might catch fire—how could he respond? Every part of her body seemed perfect: her ample bust, her round hips, her long legs, and that flawless face. He almost wanted to say, "Everything about you is gorgeous."
"I—uh—never mind," Victoria said with a gentle laugh, turning back to the road and focusing on driving.
Half an hour later, they arrived at Hawthorne University's front gate.
"I'll get off here," Grayson said. He didn't want Victoria driving all the way onto campus in such a flashy SUV; it would have drawn too many unwanted glances.
Victoria watched as Grayson's familiar figure disappeared behind the gate. A small, wistful smile curved her lips. "I didn't expect Young Master Grayson to be so innocent—blushing like that. Interesting. I kind of like it, though… but my position won't allow me to cross any lines. What a shame." Only after he was fully out of sight did she start the G500 and drive off.
Once inside the gate, Grayson continued toward his dorm. He hadn't noticed it at first, but as he rounded a corner, a motorcycle roared past him, its siren wailing and engine roaring through the campus. Students stared, heads turning at the commotion.
On the bike were Lila and Ryan Walker, riding side by side as if they were a couple. So—they were together now? Grayson realized that Ryan had essentially stolen his glory earlier; Lila must have been thankful for Ryan's help and had started dating him. That made sense—and frankly, fine by Grayson. He'd never had strong feelings for Lila anyway.
Grayson kept walking to his dorm. As soon as he got there, he saw Jace, Miles, and Tyler rushing out, each carrying a large bouquet of unfamiliar flowers and some snacks.
"Grayson!" Jace called out urgently.
"What are you three up to?" Grayson asked, puzzled.
"Bad news—Lila's in an accident!" Jace said, panic in his eyes. "Indie just called. Lila got in a car crash; she's at the hospital now!"
"No way!" Grayson's heart plummeted. He'd seen Lila on that speeding motorcycle just minutes ago. Of course—the bike must have wrecked.
"Yeah, even though Lila can be shallow, she's still our dorm sister. Since she's in the hospital, we bought some gifts and snacks to go see her," Miles explained.
"Look, Grayson," Jace added, "I know Lila's always treated you badly, but I've known her for years. She's not really a terrible person—just… I don't know why she's so cold to you. If you don't want to come, we understand. You can stay here."
"It's okay. I'll come with you guys," Grayson said. Lila might look down on him, but it wouldn't feel right to leave her alone in the hospital.
They hailed a taxi. Jace paid the fare, and soon they were at the hospital.
Inside the ward, Lila lay in bed with bandages wrapped around her head, an IV drip in her arm. Indie and a few friends had already arrived, and Indie was feeding Lila snacks. Other friends clustered around the bed, and the tabletop was piled high with upscale gifts—designer handbags, fruit baskets, expensive-looking flowers. Clearly, everyone here came from well‐off families.
Jace and his friends placed the bouquets and snacks they'd brought onto the table. Then, Grayson set down a modest plastic bag in a corner of the pile.
"Lila," Grayson said softly, "I know I rushed over and didn't buy much, but I brought some fruit . I thought you might like to have it."
One of Lila's friends—eyes narrowing—pointed at Grayson's plastic bag. "You mean you just brought that to the hospital?" she sneered.
At once, everyone in the room turned to glare at him. While most people had brought elegant, gift‐wrapped presents, Grayson held a crumpled store bag from the hotel.
"Look at what everyone else gave, and look at you. So cheap—you can't even pick out a proper gift?"
"I'd almost rather you not have brought anything."
"You carry a plastic bag? Aren't you embarrassed?"
"Seriously? Do you even care about Lila, or are you too stingy to buy a decent gift?"
Their mockery stung. In hindsight, Grayson wished he'd asked the server for a branded gift bag from Celestia Grand instead of grabbing the nearest plastic one. The fruit itself wasn't a lot—just a small box. But wrapped in a plain plastic bag, it looked pathetic.
Even so, he thought, "I could have come empty‐handed; I didn't deserve this ridicule."
Lila offered him a disdainful look, her usual scorn clear in her eyes. "You're that guy who can't even pay for your own meal, and now look—what do you expect? A first‐class gift?"
"Let me see what he brought," another girl said, her lips curling in a malicious smirk. She opened Grayson's plastic bag and prodded at a single piece of fruit, pinching it between two fingers. Her face puckered, as though she were holding a slimy worm rather than a grape‐sized fruit. Clearly, she found it revolting.
But in reality, the fruit was quite beautiful: a deep, glossy purple‐red sphere, glistening like a polished berry.
"Is that some wild fruit you picked from the mountain?" someone else exclaimed.
"Very likely," another chimed in. "This guy's so poor he can't afford a hospital gift, so he just plucked some wild berries off the hill? Hahaha!"
The rest of them snickered. Hawthorne University backed onto the foothills, where small, nondescript wild fruits grew. None of those girls had ever tried them.
"I bet it is! I've never even seen these before. Too cheap to buy anything proper, so he rummaged out there and snatched some random berries!" someone mocked.
"Is that even safe to eat? What if it's poisonous?"
"Right? I wouldn't touch it, even if it looks pretty. Doesn't it look weird?"
"People like this are unbelievable. Lila's injured, and he brings some unknown fruit. What happens if she gets sick? Who's going to be responsible then?"
Lila's friends volleyed insults at Grayson one after another. He recognized them only from that one dinner—girls who'd already seen how Lila treated him and naturally thought he was worthless. Avery and Maya weren't quite as vicious but quietly agreed he was a loser. Only because Jace and Indie were in his corner did they not say it outright, but in their hearts, they couldn't imagine any other reason for his odd, cheap gift.
"Just throw it away," Lila said, her voice cold and dismissive.