Frederick tossed and turned until three in the morning before sleep finally claimed him.

Arabella, however, had long since achieved her heart's desire, returning once more to the palace of her dreams.

Tonight, the dream felt more real than ever, as if she could reach out and touch it.

In this dream, she wore a dress encrusted with gemstones and delicate lace gloves—an ensemble so grand it suggested she was attending a prestigious gala. A polished silver luxury car carried her past French gardens and massive fountains, coming to a halt before the magnificent gates of a golden palace.

She didn't need to open the door herself; a doorman in a crisp deep-blue uniform performed the task with a respectful bow. He was a handsome young man, standing at least 1.8 meters tall, who greeted her with a warm "Good evening."

Behind her followed four robust bodyguards.

Walking through stained-glass doors patterned with irises, she entered a hall dominated by gold and blue. The blue jade marble floor featured intricate water-jet parquet patterns, every detail whispering of opulence.

However, the most eye-catching feature was the massive, crown-shaped crystal chandelier hanging in the center of the hall. Hundreds of thousands of crystals and gemstones refracted brilliant sparks of light, dazzling every guest who stopped to look.

Without exception, every passerby would instinctively look up, breathless at the sight of that giant "Crown."

Arabella looked up as well, but before she could take it all in, her dream-self casually withdrew her gaze. She navigated through the hall and long corridors with practiced ease, reaching a bank of private elevators. She pressed the button for the twenty-second floor.

The elevator doors opened to reveal a stylish, private club. Tranquil, dark tones prevailed, with wave-like lights flowing over a beautiful grand piano. The young man at the reception showed no surprise at her arrival, greeting her with a familiar "Miss Sinclair."

Miss Sinclair. Arabella blinked, confused. Was he calling her?

"Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair, along with the Xie siblings, have arrived. They're waiting for you downstairs."

Who were they? Suppressing her curiosity, Arabella followed the young man.

The layout here was understated on the surface, but once inside, it felt like a vast labyrinth. Finally, they stopped before a heavy sliding door seven meters high. The door slid open like a folding fan, and Arabella nervously gripped her dress.

The world inside was entirely different from what she had imagined.

About a dozen people were gathered in the lounge, and the atmosphere was wonderful. There were young people her age huddled around a card table, and more mature elders sitting around a long tea table, chatting over their brews.

As the door opened, the chatter ceased, and everyone turned toward her. Arabella stood there awkwardly. These people... they felt so familiar. So familiar that her eyes inexplicably welled with tears.

"Bella is here." "Bella~~" "Sister." "Welcome, our birthday girl!"

A trendy young man tossed down his poker cards. A brilliant red diamond stud sparkled in his left ear as he gave a flamboyant, handsome grin. "Hey, what are you dazing at, my cousin?"

Just as the words left his mouth, another gentle girl in a champagne-colored suit grabbed him by the ear. "Who are you calling? Bella is your elder sister. Everyone of your generation here is your senior. Julian Xie, you are at the bottom of the family food chain. Behave yourself!"

"Ow—ow, ow! Sister! I was wrong, I was wrong! Just let me give the flowers to Cou—Sister! Elder Sister! You're all my sisters! Happy now?!"

A large bouquet of orange lilies was thrust into Arabella's arms. This young rogue showed no remorse, his expression full of mischief. "Happy Birthday, cousin."

Arabella stood in a daze. Was today her birthday?

The elders watched the children's bickering with a mix of amusement and mock disdain; they had never been that rowdy in their own youth. At that moment, a woman in a red fishtail dress smiled and beckoned to her. "Come here, Bella. Why are you standing?"

The moment Arabella saw the woman's face, her breath hitched, and her heart began to race. How could such a beautiful woman exist in this world? She looked like a crown encrusted with jewels.

Arabella loved this woman. She loved her so, so much. She repeated it three times in her heart. She didn't know why, but she just wanted to be near her, to crawl into her arms, to act spoiled... and even to cry.

Seeing her hesitation, the woman in the red dress laughed and poked the arm of the man beside her. "Hey, our baby is twenty-two now, so why is she still as silly as when she was little? I'm so afraid that she'll be cheated one day."

"Because you're silly, babe. I'm also afraid that you'll be cheated," the man replied, ruffling the woman's hair.

"Nonsense, don't ruin my shrewd image in front of our daughter..."

The man chuckled dotingly and stood up, beckoning to the still-stunned Arabella. "Come here, Bella. Your mom made chocolate mousse. She won't let anyone else eat if you don't take the first bite." His voice was deep and solemn, yet his tone was incredibly tender.

He was exceptionally tall and robust. As he stood, Arabella had to look up to see his face. It was the face of a middle-aged man with wheat-colored skin and cold, deep black eyes. His youthful handsomeness was still evident, but time had granted him a steady gravity. His high position and happy life gave him an air of triumphant high spirits.

Arabella stared with wide eyes at this stranger couple. The woman was glamorous and seductive; the man was sharp and stern. Her eyes overflowed with tears as she tried desperately to remember, but she couldn't. Finally, a ragged voice broke from her parched throat: "Who are you...?"

The man seemed amused by her question, but he remained gentle and patient. "I'm your Daddy."

"Daddy?"

"Daddy..."

"Daddy!!"

Arabella broke into bitter sobs, her hands grasping wildly in the air, trying to catch hold of something, until a powerful hand gripped hers. "Aerona, Aerona, don't cry. Are you having a nightmare? I'm here. Daddy is here."

"Daddy..." Arabella stood at the dawn where dream met reality, her eyes closed as she whispered in a daze.

"Yes, I'm here. Wake up, sweetheart. Don't linger in that nightmare."

Frederick looked at the girl on the bed with concern, his grip on her hand tightening instinctively. He was relieved he had arrived in time. The girl was completely lost in her dream, her voice calling out to him repeatedly. What kind of nightmare had it been? Had he protected her in time within that dream? He hoped so; he didn't want her to be hurt even in her sleep.

Arabella felt the warmth and strength coming from his wrist and suddenly opened her tear-filled eyes, her entire body heaving violently. "Daddy?"

Before her was a handsome, deep-set face with blonde hair and blue eyes—a completely foreign appearance. This was not the middle-aged man from her dream. This was not her Daddy.

Frederick smiled. "It's me, honey. Don't cry anymore, alright?"

She had just woken up and was still caught in the nightmare, looking stunned. Frederick sighed and reached out to wipe her tears. "Good girl, what's your nightmare? Can you share it with Daddy?"

Arabella said nothing, her tearful eyes just staring at him blankly, as if she didn't recognize him, as if every day they had spent together had vanished from her mind, completely gone.

Frederick's expression turned somber. "Aerona—"

Suddenly, Arabella violently threw his hand aside and screamed with all her might, "No! You aren't! You aren't my Daddy! I don't want you!" She was like a spinning top out of control, whirling in chaos.

Frederick froze, his suspended hand stopping stiffly in mid-air.