She will understand.

Leonardo had already leaned over, and the faint sandalwood fragrance filled the narrow car compartment. His fingers were long and clean as he helped her pick up the scattered items.

He took her phone and tapped gently on the screen with his fingertips.

As night fell, the wrought - iron gates of Windsor Manor cast long shadows under the illumination of the car lights. Leonardo's black Maybach slowly pulled up in front of the porch, and the sound of the engine was particularly clear in the quiet night.

Luna's fingers rested on the seat - belt, but she didn't unbuckle it for a long time. She stared at the familiar courtyard outside the window and suddenly realized that this was the first time she had brought a man other than Richard home. This thought made her heart skip a beat.

"Well, I'll go up first," she said softly, her voice even softer than she had expected. "Contact me if you need anything." Only then did she realize that they hadn't exchanged contact information yet.

Leonardo's long fingers tapped gently on the steering wheel, the rhythm as calm as his speech. "Wait a moment."

"Hmm?" Luna turned her head. The moonlight shone through the car window onto her profile, casting a soft silver glow. She saw Leonardo's eyelashes casting fine shadows in the light, and his gray - green eyes were as deep as a pool.

"Shouldn't we..." Leonardo shook his phone, and the light from the screen illuminated his chiseled face. "Add each other's contact information?" The corners of his mouth curved upward slightly, revealing his first sincere smile of the night.

Luna blinked, suddenly feeling an inexplicable sense of shyness. "Oh!" She hurriedly rummaged through her handbag for her phone. Her fingers accidentally caught on a silk scarf, and items spilled all over the place. "Sorry, I..." She bent down to pick them up, her blond hair falling to cover her blushing cheeks.

Leonardo had already leaned over. The faint sandalwood fragrance filled the small car compartment. His fingers were long and clean as he helped her pick up the scattered items. "Shall I scan your code?" He took her phone and tapped on the screen with his fingertips.

Luna nodded and watched him enter his contact information. His eyelashes looked particularly thick in the light, and the line of his nose was elegant and straight. When his fingertips accidentally touched the back of her hand, both of them were slightly startled.

"Done." Leonardo handed the phone back to her, his voice low. Luna noticed that his Adam's apple bobbed slightly, and then he quickly regained his usual calm.

She looked down at the newly - added contact - "L.B.", with an avatar of a deep - blue sea. "It suits you." She blurted out, then realized her slip - up and quickly added, "I mean, this sea is in line with your temperament."

Leonardo chuckled, his voice vibrating like the lowest string of a cello. "Really? I think it's more like your eyes."

Luna's heart skipped a beat. She quickly averted her gaze. "Well, I should go?" Her fingers unconsciously rubbed the edge of the phone, as if to confirm the reality of all this.

"Good night, Miss Windsor." Leonardo's voice was particularly deep in the night. "Sweet dreams."

It was not until she entered the house that Luna realized her lips had been curved upward all the time. She leaned against the door, listening to the sound of the engine gradually fading away, and her heart was beating abnormally fast. This feeling was so unfamiliar. She had never felt like this when she was with Richard.

She slowly walked upstairs. The moonlight shone through the French window onto the corridor. When passing by the study, the photo hanging on the wall made her stop - it was a photo of her and Richard at last year's Christmas ball. In the photo, she was smiling brightly, while Richard's eyes were looking beyond the camera.

"So obvious..." Luna murmured to herself, her fingertips gently caressing the frame. Now that she thought about it, those details she had deliberately ignored - Richard's always - late appointments, his absent - minded conversations, and countless "something - came - up" phone calls - were all reminders of the true nature of their relationship.

In the bathroom, the hot water washed away her fatigue, but it couldn't wash away the complex emotions in her heart. When she finally lay down on the soft bed, the screen of her phone kept lighting up and then going dark. The prompts of more than a dozen missed calls were particularly eye - catching in the dark, but she just turned over and buried her face in the pillow.

Meanwhile, in the corridor of the VIP ward in N City Hospital, Richard Vanderwoodson impatiently exhaled a puff of cigarette smoke. His expensive suit was wrinkled beyond recognition, and his eyes were bloodshot, completely losing his usual suave and debonair look.

"Boss, Miss Luna's phone still can't be reached." Drake rubbed his temples, his voice full of exhaustion. He couldn't remember how many times he had dialed that familiar number tonight.

Richard stubbed out the cigarette, and the sparks flickered between his fingers. "Keep calling." His voice was hoarse and terrifying.

Drake stole a glance at his boss's gloomy face and said cautiously, "Miss Luna may have already rested. You know, she never stays up late..."

"I said keep calling!" Richard suddenly raised his voice, scaring a passing nurse so much that she almost dropped the tray. He ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

Drake sighed inwardly. Yes, Miss Luna always answered the boss's calls immediately, even in the middle of the night. He remembered once at three o'clock in the morning, Miss Luna, though having a high fever, still insisted on answering the boss's call just because the other side said "I want to hear your voice".

The corridor lights were pale and glaring, making his face look even uglier. Drake looked at his boss's changeable expression and said carefully, "Miss Luna may be too tired. Maybe we can try again tomorrow..."

"Shut up." Richard interrupted him, his voice as cold as ice. He impatiently tugged at his tie, and the expensive silk fabric wrinkled in his hands. He took out his own phone, and the screen was clean, without any missed calls. The most recent call record was still from a week ago - Luna excitedly asking him if the engagement dress looked good, and he just perfunctorily replied a few words and then hung up.

A strange sense of panic suddenly seized Richard's heart. Luna had never been like this. Even when she was angry, she would answer the phone, cry and question him, and give him a chance to explain. But not like this... silence.

He knew he had let Luna down, but Olivia had once saved his life, and he couldn't ignore her. Luna had always been the most understanding. She would understand this time too, right?

Drake tactfully stepped aside. He looked at the gradually brightening sky outside the window and suddenly remembered the figure he saw at the Windsor Group yesterday - Leonardo Black. This thought sent a chill down his spine, but then he thought it was impossible. Everyone knew how infatuated Miss Luna was with the boss. How could she...

Drake lowered his head and scrolled through his phone, his fingers moving quickly on the screen, and fine beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. He stole a glance at Richard, who was smoking by the window. The latter's gloomy face made his throat tighten.

"The old mansion..." Drake cleared his throat and unconsciously lowered his voice. "Madam is going on an overseas trip and taking the family with her. She may not attend the engagement party..." His fingers unconsciously pinched the edge of the phone tightly, his knuckles turning white.

Richard's fingers holding the cigarette paused slightly, and the ash fell in a flurry. He slowly exhaled a puff of smoke, and the gray - white smoke blurred his tense jawline. "What did grandpa say?" His voice was low, as if squeezed out between his teeth.

Drake lowered his head, his eyes fixed on the tip of his shoes. "The call was from the butler." His fingers nervously rubbed the phone case, as if this could relieve the oppressive feeling in the air.

Richard's pupils suddenly contracted, and the cigarette between his fingers was crushed out of shape. The butler was his grandfather's confidant. He knew exactly what this call meant. His adoptive mother - the so - called Mrs. Vanderwoodson - had slapped him in the face in public once again.

Richard wasn't her biological son. Over twenty years ago, his father, Theodore Vanderwoodson's mistress gave birth to him and then passed away. His so - called "mother" refused to take him home, and his spineless father had no choice but to send him to an orphanage. It was not until the Vanderwoodson family needed to form an alliance with the Windsor family through marriage that this illegitimate child, who had long been hidden from sight, was brought back "home".