Bruce quickly corrected himself. "The other end of the manor. There are a few guest rooms over there, too. It's quiet, and no one will disturb you."
Ririko nodded. "Then I'll stay over there~"
Bruce had a maid take her upstairs to rest, while he watched her ascend the staircase, unable to collect himself for a long time.
Alfred stood beside him.
He had once served in MI5 and undergone military-grade training in mental discipline.
The former agent's instincts told him that this woman, so beautiful it was almost uncanny, had hardly appeared by the roadside in a bathrobe at midnight simply because she'd run away after a squabble with young Sofia.
He turned, about to share his opinion with Bruce, only to find that Bruce had opened his phone.
"Alfred," Bruce said, his voice unusually anxious, "is my cologne too old-fashioned? I don't want to use the same brand as my father. I need to switch scents right away."
He blamed Ririko's deliberate distance from him on something being "wrong" with his scent.
He lowered his head to glance at his phone again and typed "women's favorite cologne brands" into the search bar, looking as serious as if he were deciding the company's strategic direction.
Alfred closed his mouth.
The maid led Ririko to the guest room.
She flopped heavily onto a sofa that looked expensive at a glance. It was as soft as a cloud, and as she sank into it, she felt as though it might swallow her whole.
In the past, she would never have dared imagine that she might one day stay at the Wayne family's home.
This was Wayne Manor, the symbol of Gotham, Bruce Wayne's castle...
She had once thought that, with her miserable background, the most she could ever do was