"Take me back to the car. My clothes are still inside."

"You can get them tomorrow."

A cold wind blew up from under her feet, making her feel a little scared.

Raegan clung to Mitchel tightly. She was no different from a baby kangaroo.

Mitchel understood her reaction. He lowered his head, pulled down his trench coat calmly, and carefully wrapped her tightly.

"Don't worry. No one will see us."

The VIP parking lot had a private elevator and only allowed one car at a time.

Mitchel's ward was on the twelfth floor, and he was the only patient there.

As the elevator slowly ascended, the few minutes felt extremely long and torturous for Raegan.

Suddenly, the elevator dinged and stopped on the eighth floor.

Before Raegan could react, the doors opened immediately.

Raegan's delicate face pressed against Mitchel's neck, a reaction born of sheer surprise.

A female cleaner was standing outside the elevator entrance. Because she assumed that nobody would use the elevator at this late hour of the day, she got lazy and opted to use the VIP elevator. She hadn't expected to run into Mitchel and Raegan.

Startled, the cleaner immediately began apologizing upon seeing Mitchel and Raegan.

Mitchel's eyes darkened but remained silent, efficiently closing the elevator doors.

The cleaner clutched her heart, unable to shake off the image of the disheveled Raegan in Mitchel's arms. Raegan's neck was burning hot.

The cleaner was relieved not to receive any reprimand.

Meanwhile, Raegan's face was flushed, the shock helping to sober her up from the lingering effects of alcohol.

The impulsive actions were now sinking in, and she couldn't escape the mental image of what they must have looked like — both thrilling and embarrassing.

After Mitchel brought her into the ward, Raegan, hoping to avoid facing the situation, decided to feign sleep.