Damian Spencer had been driving for six hours straight, clocking over 310 miles. He was utterly spent. Remi Crawford settled him into her room for a nap, waiting until he was deep in sleep before quietly slipping out.

Downstairs, Alicia Crawford kept pacing, peering anxiously toward the staircase. Her husband, Troy, was growing irritable from her restlessness.

"Can you just sit down for a minute?"

"It’s been two hours, Troy. Remi hasn’t come back down yet. How can I not be worried?"

"We’re all right here. What could he possibly do?"

Alicia rolled her eyes. "I have things to talk to our daughter about."

Just then, she saw Remi creeping down the stairs. Lowering her voice, Alicia asked, "Remi, is Damian asleep?"

Remi nodded. "He drove all night. He passed out the moment his head hit the pillow."

Alicia reached out and poked her daughter’s forehead, her tone chiding. "Look at how you’ve bullied him. The way he was walking on eggshells around you... he looked almost pathetic."

"Pathetic?" Remi laughed, feeling a bit guilty.

"Remi, you’ve always been a bit slow on the uptake. It isn’t easy finding someone who tolerates you, so don’t go being so self-willed."

Remi felt helpless against her mother’s earnest nagging. "Mom, am I really that bad? Why are you always so worried I’ll never get married?"

"I’m not mocking you. Most parents worry about their kids having early romances, but I never did."

"Why?" Remi asked, genuinely curious.

Alicia let out a dry laugh. "Because you were too busy trying to 'save the world' every single day."

Troy chuckled from the sofa. "That’s right. You were running all over the place, rowdier than any boy."

"Haha, very funny," Remi muttered. She looked back on her high school years and felt a wave of embarrassment. She definitely hadn’t been the romantic type back then.

"If things are going well, try to settle it soon. A man of his quality is a rare catch," Alicia urged.

"Mom, I didn't want to bring him home because I knew you’d push for a wedding. Our company is just starting to find its footing—who has time for a wedding?"

"I’m just worried that with your stubborn streak, you’ll let him slip away."

"Marriage isn't a shackle, Mom! Plenty of people get married and divorced every day!"

"But..."

Troy interrupted, "Enough. The girl has her own ideas. Stop nagging her."

"Fine, fine. Do whatever you want."

As the conversation died down, a figure lingering in the shadows at the top of the stairs retreated back into the room, his expression unreadable.

It was four in the afternoon when Damian finally stirred. He stared at the unfamiliar room for a moment, dazed, until the sound of steady, rhythmic breathing caught his attention. Remi was curled up beside him, her face flushed with sleep and her long, curled lashes casting soft shadows. He couldn't help but admire her peaceful expression.

Unable to resist, he leaned in and pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

Feeling a tickle on her skin, Remi’s hand lashed out on instinct.

*Smack.*

The sharp, loud sound of a slap echoed through the room, shattering the cozy atmosphere.

Damian froze, stunned, his hand rising to touch his stinging cheek. Remi jolted awake, blinking in confusion. When she saw the bright red palm mark on his face, she gasped and immediately reached out to massage the spot, desperate to soothe the pain.

"I’m so sorry! I didn't mean to!"

"Remi, did you just commit domestic violence against me?"

Remi offered a sheepish grin. "Heh... I thought you were a mosquito."

Damian was so baffled he actually laughed. This girl—she could pack a punch even in her sleep. His ear was still ringing from that one blow.

Seeing the dangerous glint in his eyes, Remi quickly steered the conversation elsewhere. "Get up, get up! Let’s go out and have some fun."

She didn’t dare meet his gaze, scrambling out of bed and darting into the bathroom with the agility of someone fleeing a crime scene. Damian shook his head, a faint, indulgent smile playing on his lips.

After washing her face and changing, Remi returned to the room, beaming. "Let’s go."

"Where are we going?" Damian asked, leaning back against the headboard. In truth, he didn't want to go anywhere—he just wanted to stay curled up in this room with her.

"A get-together with my friends. Want to come?"

As soon as he heard 'friends,' Damian’s interest piqued. "You’re introducing me to your friends?"

"Of course! With a boyfriend as handsome and dashing as you, I have to show you off, right?"

Her chin lifted with pride. The tightness Damian had felt in his chest earlier—the result of hearing her parents talk about marriage—vanished instantly. He realized now that she did value him; she just wasn't ready to tie the knot yet.

"Are you going or not? Why are you just sitting there grinning?"

"I’m going!"

Damian vaulted off the bed, dressed in a flash, and meticulously checked his hair in the mirror.

Remi laughed, wrapping her arms around him from behind. "You’re already handsome enough. Any more grooming and you'll turn into a peacock."

"If I don’t look my best, I’ll embarrass you."

"Brother, can you please have a shred of self-awareness?"

Damian caught Remi’s eye in the reflection. "Does Remi think I look good?"

"Of course! You’re the best-looking man I’ve ever seen, bar none."

"It is my greatest honor to grow into the man that Remi likes."

His voice was smooth and melodic. Remi felt a flutter in her chest—the man was a walking, talking pheromone trap. She shyly looked away. "Just hurry up!"

When they reached the foyer, Alicia couldn't help but compliment them. "Damian, now that you've shaken off that fatigue, you look even sharper!"

Remi preened, lifting her chin. "Of course. How could someone ordinary ever catch my eye?"

"You're right, our Remi has the best taste."

Remi flashed a sweet smile at Damian. "We’re heading out, Mom! Don't wait up for us for dinner."

"Alright, stay safe."

They arrived at the venue and were led to a private booth by a server. As they walked in, Remi’s friends immediately erupted into cheers. Blushing, Remi introduced him, "Girls, this is my boyfriend, Damian Spencer."

"Wow! Your boyfriend is so hot!"

"Seriously, Remi, where did you find someone this high-quality?"

"I’m drooling with envy!"

When the commotion finally settled, Damian offered a polite, calm greeting. "Hello, everyone."

"Hey, handsome! Come sit next to me!"

"No, here, sit by me! I've never seen anyone this good-looking in person!"

Damian wasn't sure if this was a friend group or a siren's den.

"Hey, hey, hands off! You can only look," Remi teased, hooking her arm firmly through his as if guarding her territory.

The table was filled with a mix of men and women who called each other sisters, a dynamic Damian had never really seen before. It was loud, chaotic, and yet, surprisingly harmonious. He was used to the circles back in the city—everyone was a smiling tiger, obsessed only with profit. Living in that environment for so long, he had learned to wear a mask himself.

But this group was different. Everyone wore genuine smiles, teasing and laughing with no hidden agendas. The relaxed atmosphere made him let his guard down.