"Your fiancée trashed my gallery, and I think you owe me an explanation," Amelia said coldly, playing a recorded clip of the destruction.

Chris narrowed his eyes, his expression unreadable. "Ms. White, you're being unreasonable," he said, looking at Amelia's pale, trembling face. "She's my fiancée. If I don't protect her, who should I protect? You? Who are you to me?"

His look seemed to imply that if she were with him, he would have a reason to stand by her side. Amelia studied him for a long time with a complicated expression, then suddenly turned and walked away quickly.

Shocked, Chris immediately stood up and reached out to grab her arm to stop her. Without hesitation, Amelia turned and struck him across the face. The sound was so loud that it drew the attention of everyone in the clubhouse.

"You're testing my patience!" Chris roared, his grip on her wrist tightening with enough force to make her wince.

"I just wanted to see how low you people can go," Amelia replied, her voice shaking with adrenaline. "I'm going through a difficult time, and everyone pounces on me like hyenas, waiting to see me humiliated. And you? You're the worst. Leila and the others at least confront me openly. You don't even have the guts to show your face. You're just hiding here, watching me get bullied."

Her voice grew urgent, and her eyes turned red with unshed tears. Chris was stunned by this side of her, remaining silent for a long time.

Amelia, still not satisfied, vented her anger at him. "You think I'll give in? That I'll buckle under the pressure and come running to you for help? Dream on! Even if I'm pushed to the edge, I will never bow to someone as heartless as you!"

"Enough!" Chris finally snapped, gripping her shoulders to steady her. At that moment, he began to doubt his long-held conclusions. Either this wasn't the Amelia he knew at all, or she had shattered and rebuilt herself with fierce, unyielding determination.

Whatever her intentions were in approaching him, she had succeeded. She had piqued his curiosity and his competitive spirit.

"Don't touch me!" Amelia angrily pushed him away. She used so much force that she stumbled back a few steps, almost losing her balance. Despite her disheveled state, she looked like a brave warrior, unafraid of anything.

In the instant she stumbled, Chris instinctively reached out to catch her. In his deep eyes, his irritation transformed into an overwhelming sense of heartache.

"What's going on? She actually dared to yell at Mr. Spencer," the onlookers whispered among themselves. "She seems to be at a breaking point. I heard her gallery was destroyed and her reputation has plummeted."

The voices, relentless and judgmental, felt like sharp arrows piercing Amelia's heart. She hadn't cared before, but now, the dam broke. She began to weep, exposing her vulnerability for the first time.

"Get out!" Chris suddenly roared, turning his fury on the crowd. "Everyone get out! If anyone dares to mock her again, they'll find themselves barred from every establishment in Pinecrest!"

In an instant, the voices ceased. After a terrifying silence, the crowd fled, afraid of his wrath. The large clubhouse emptied out in no time. Amelia, looking completely drained, collapsed toward the floor. Chris rushed over to help her, realizing as he touched her skin that she was burning up.

"You have a fever. We need to get you to the hospital."

"No, don't touch me," Amelia glared at him, trying to push him away, but she was too weak. Her tears fell even harder. "Home. I just want to go home."

Her voice was fragile and broken. No matter how strong-willed Chris usually was, at this moment, he could only follow her wishes.

It was his first time stepping into Amelia's place. It was a small, cozy villa, tastefully decorated but feeling somewhat empty.

"Do you have any fever medicine?" Chris asked.

Amelia weakly pointed under the coffee table. "Medical kit... there."

Chris quickly found it and poured her a glass of water, his actions surprisingly considerate. As she took the medicine, he suddenly said, "Be with me, and I'll protect you."

His words were blunt and straightforward. Amelia coughed violently, almost choking. He quickly patted her back, gritting his teeth. "Why are you so stubborn? You're always opposing me. It's no wonder you end up in these situations."

"I don't want to be a side-piece, nor do I want to be a target for those women," Amelia finally calmed down, giving him a faint glance. "Don't waste your time on me."

Chris immediately grew defensive. "I could have anyone I want!"

"Then go ahead. Don't be an eyesore in my house," Amelia's voice was flat, but her indifferent tone drove him mad.

"Amelia, don't be ungrateful," Chris said coldly. "Others would beg for this kind of attention."

"I don't want to be an outsider in your life," Amelia said.

"You wouldn't be an outsider, okay? Be my girlfriend!" Chris put his hands on his hips, pacing in front of her for three circles before finally confessing, "Leila and I are no longer together. She's not my fiancée, it's just because—"

Before he could finish, his phone rang. Annoyed, he saw it was Leila. He hung up, but she called back repeatedly. Irritated, he finally answered. "What is it?"

"Chris, I had a car accident. Come help me," Leila's tearful voice came through. "I'm so scared. I'm bleeding, and the other driver is being aggressive."

Chris's expression changed instantly, his eyes instinctively darting to Amelia. A cold, mocking look flashed in her eyes.

"Go ahead," she sneered. "Don't keep your Leila waiting."

She felt a bitter sense of validation. Indeed, Leila was still his priority. Fortunately, she hadn't been swayed by his words moments ago.

"I'll go handle this. Wait for me here, I'll be back soon," Chris said, his demeanor restless.

Amelia's eyes showed no emotion. "This is my home. I won't be waiting for you."

Chris's gaze became complicated. After a few seconds of silence, he abruptly stood up and left. The door closed with a heavy thud, leaving the entire villa in silence.