"Prisley, you don't have to go tonight." Heather said, his tone heavy with melancholy.
"Why not? You already agreed with Steve."
Heather drew her closer, his embrace tightening. "I just... don't want you to go." He confessed, his gaze softening, a hint of vulnerability quite different from his previous icy cold.
Caught off guard by this rare display of emotion from Heather, Prisley felt a surge of warmth in her heart. Despite being together for four years, she had rarely seen this side of him.
Leaning into his chest, she was about to offer words of comfort when Heather abruptly released her, his gaze once again veiled in frost.
"You can go now." He walked out of the office, leaving Prisley behind.
Back at her own desk, Prisley couldn't shake off the feeling of confusion. This man... he had been tender and affectionate moments ago, but now he seemed distant and cold.
She sighed, trying to make sense of it all.
Meanwhile, Heather struggled with his own confusion. The reason of Prisley's resignation had made him feel uneasy.
In light of Filla's return, her decision to leave him was deeply unsettling, especially since she seemed determined in her choice.
Heather's mood soured. All he longed for was Prisley's presence tonight, even if it meant just sharing the silence in the same room.
But he never begged, unable to articulate his desires directly to Prisley.
As Prisley pondered over the situation, she couldn't help but feel a pang of discomfort. One moment he was affectionate, the next he was distant. It was confusing.
Meanwhile, Steve was driving with a cheerful demeanor, a broad grin on his face.
"Prisley, you've been with Heather for quite a few years now, haven't you?" he remarked, his tone casual.
"Over four years," she replied.
"Aren't you tired of him yet? How about joining me? I really admire you," Steve suggested, his words laced with underlying intentions.
Prisley felt a wave of embarrassment. This guy... he clearly had ulterior motives.
"Thank you, Steve, but my job is decided by my boss. I can't make that decision for myself," she replied, trying to maintain a polite demeanor.
"Come on, being around Heather is so boring. All he does is work. If you were with me, I'd make sure you had fun, take you out to dinner, skiing, yachting, enjoying the finer things in life."
Steve, also the son of a rich family, whose family business was much smaller than Heather's.
Unlike Heather, he had no intention of returning to work for the family business, choosing instead to co-found Warner Tech with Heather while serving as Vice President at Warner's headquarters.
With his carefree attitude and penchant for luxury, Steve was always surrounded by luxury cars and beautiful women.
As Heather's confidant, Steve undoubtedly knew a thing or two about Heather and Prisley's relationship. How much he knew remained a mystery to Prisley. Unsure of how to respond, she forced a strained smile and looked out the window.
At the cocktail party, guests mingled in groups, engaging in lively conversation over drinks. Accompanying Steve, Prisley met several prominent figures.
Her natural charm and adept conversational skills ensured that everyone she interacted with was thoroughly entertained.
Later in the evening, Prisley sat down in a secluded corner to take a break. Steve approached her, two glasses of wine in hand.
"Mind if I join you?" he asked.
Prisley nodded with a smile. Her perception of Steve had changed slightly.
Despite his outwardly unreliable demeanor, when it came to serious matters, he showed unexpected competence .
She finally understood why Heather and Steve's friendship had lasted so many years.
"A toast to our first collaboration. Prisley, you're pretty impressive," Steve praised. "I’m doubling your overtime pay for today."
"The finance department might not like that," Prisley joked.
"I'll foot the bill myself."
"Well, my boss might not be pleased," Prisley chuckled.
"Heather? That vulnerable guy? If he dares to object, I'll beat him up for you."
"How could he be vulnerable?" Prisley found it hard to believe. After four years of working together, she had always perceived him as a person of strong character and temperament.
"You don't know? Despite his tough exterior, he's not that strong on the inside. Otherwise, why would he...?" Steve stopped himself in mid-sentence.
"Forget it. Or he’ll beat me.”
Steve wisely decided to remain silent. Prisley rolled her eyes at him.
A glamorous woman had just walked past their seat.
"Hi, Filla, what a surprise to see you here!" Steve greeted her.
Filla?
Prisley's heart skipped a beat. The face before her was unmistakably the one she had tried to imitate countless times from a photograph.
Four years had passed, and she looked even more mature and seductive than in the picture.
Meeting Filla here was the last thing Prisley had expected. She wished she could escape this awkward situation.
"You're Heather's assistant, aren't you? I've heard of you," Filla said arrogantly.
"Yes, how did you know?" Prisley felt uncomfortable.
"Heather seems to be fixated on me. You bear quite a resemblance to me. A decent substitute."
Filla remarked, scrutinizing Prisley, who squirmed uncomfortably under her gaze.
"I think you may have misunderstood. Heather never intended to replace you with me," Prisley replied, her face pale as she struggled to control her inner turmoil.
"Really? But I heard you were even dressing like me?" Filla challenged.
"I tell you, a fake is always a fake and can never replace me."
"As long as I'm willing, Heather will always come back to me. And indeed, he has. You, the cheap fake, better know your place."
Steve was stunned. He hadn't expected such a dramatic confrontation, with the stand-in running into the real one.
Prisley's face stiffened, her chest heaving. The arrogant woman was right - she was indeed a substitute.
She felt powerless to refute her claims.
"That's enough, Filla!" Steve interrupted sternly.
"Has Heather said these things to you personally? If not, please refrain from making assumptions."
"I don't see much resemblance between Prisley and you."
"Huh, believe what you want. She knows it best." Filla replied arrogantly before striding away.
Prisley's eyes clouded as she fought back tears. She wanted nothing more than to leave right now.
"I'm sorry, Steve, I want to go now."
"I'll drive you home. I don't want to stay in this damn place either."
As Prisley walked out of the room, tears started streamed down her face. Sadness filled her beautiful eyes.
Her once confident and radiant posture now slumped, devoid of its former self-assurance and beauty.
"I'm sorry, Prisley, I didn't know she was coming." Steve murmured, sincerely apologizing to her.
"It's not your fault." Prisley said.
"Do I look like a clown?"
"No, no, no, you're beautiful and capable, and everyone at the party was nice to you," Steve reassured her.
Prisley shook her head, not accepting Steve's compliments.
"Forget about Filla... You're Prisley, not someone else," Steve comforted her.
"Thank you, Steve," Prisley said, trying to hold back her tears. Having Steve speak up for her was the greatest comfort she could ask for.
When Prisley arrived home, she kicked off her high heels and walked inside without turning on the light.
She had never imagined such an embarrassing situation. Her mood was at its lowest, compounded by the complaints she had to endure from Heather during the day.
All the unhappiness piled up and she let the tears flow freely in the darkness.
Suddenly, she was enveloped by a pair of strong arms.
Before she could utter a sound, her lips were captured by a passionate kiss, moist and warm, a familiar sensation. She realized immediately that it was him.
He tore down her carefully arranged bun, letting her long hair cascade down like a waterfall, cradling the back of her head as he kissed her fervently.
He parted her lips, their mouths meeting not with tender but with urgency. His breath washed over her face, the heavy sound of his breathing echoing in her ears, igniting her desire.
The earlier sadness had drained Prisley of her strength, and she stood in the darkness, allowing him to continue kissing her lips, cheeks, and neck. His hands explored the sensitive parts of her body, sending shivers down her spine.
"Are you crying?" he asked.
"Are you crying?" Heather asked. He turned on the light and saw Prisley's sad face."What happened? Did Steve do something to you?" Heather's voice rose."No, he's been good to me. I just... ran into Filla at the party." Prisley replied.She never wanted to show her vulnerability outside. After saying goodbye to Steve, she had let her guard down and slowly made her way back, tears streaming down her face the whole way.Heather immediately dialed Steve's number."Got it, thanks, Steve." He heard the whole story from Steve."I should go away. Otherwise, this kind of embarrassment will keep happening." Prisley sniffled. With Heather by her side, her mood improved.Heather gently stroked her waist-length hair. "You don't have to care about her.""How can I not care? In your eyes, I'm just a fake version of her." Prisley moped on the sofa.Seeing her sadness, Heather's eyes narrowed. He reached for a box on the nearby table. "Try this on, let me see how beautiful it looks on you."He pulled
Heather froze, the heat in his body plummeting instantly, the flames in his eyes extinguished, replaced by a coldness like an Arctic glacier. Prisley couldn't help but shiver.He was used to being on a pedestal, adored by all - when had he ever been subjected to such ridicule?For four years, Prisley had been completely subservient to him. No matter how angry he became or how unreasonable his demands, she had always complied without question. And now she dared to defy him?His face darkened like a storm cloud. He looked at Prisley, her innocent and beautiful face devoid of its usual compliance, now resembling an angry cat baring its teeth and claws."Very well, fulfill the contract. Perfect!" he gritted his teeth.Heather quickly dressed and planted a cold, heavy kiss on Prisley's lips before turning and leaving.The room, once filled with a lingering sense of ambiguity, now felt empty and cold, leaving Prisley with a shiver down her spine.She pressed the back of her hand to her sligh
"No - !" Prisley gasped, Heather seemed so unfamiliar, so out of control, so far from the wise and calm man she knew.She was pinned against the desk. And the door was unlocked. It was the weekend, but what if someone came in? Prisley couldn't bear to think any more."Stop it, Heather, please," she begged tearfully, but Heather was still unbuttoning her.Desperation and humiliation washed over Prisley. She closed her eyes tightly, gathered every ounce of energy she could, and pushed Heather away when he least expected it.With a loud smack, a slap landed on his face. Heather froze. The chill emanated from him accumulating.Prisley slipped out from under him and rushed toward the door.She ran out into the hallway, disoriented and frantic. Her clothes disheveled, and her hair wild.She was terrified. Tears streamed uncontrollably from her eyes.Suddenly, someone rounded the corner and almost collided with Prisley."Prisley? Are you still working today? I came to pick up something at the
Prisley has always been careful about contraception; it's one of the clauses in the contract.She recalls that about five weeks ago, when Heather was unusually passionate one day, he came for her on a weekend. They made love from day to night and ran out of condoms. The last half of the passionate day was unprotected and wild.The next day, they were both busy with a business trip, and Prisley forgot to take emergency contraception. Retracing the timeline, that would have been about the time Filla announced her return.Prisley didn't know whether to be happy or sad. She ran her fingers through her hair, tugging at it in frustration."Damn, how could I have missed that day?"At 26, with her career just starting to take off, she wanted to achieve something in her professional life as well. Having a child at that time didn't seem quite right.And she wasn't sure if Heather wanted children. His cold and distant nature made it difficult to imagine his reaction to hearing this news. And his
Prisley chose a long, fitted dress, putting on high heels and waited for Mark to arrive.From a distance, Mark saw Prisley standing by the roadside. The light green dress complemented her waist-length wavy hair, giving her a graceful and ethereal appearance, much like a woodland nymph.Her hair, styled in soft curls, seemed less casual and more sophisticated than when they had first met in the morning.Mark was stunned by the sight, forgot to start the car even when the traffic light turned green, and was honked at by the car behind him.Prisley didn't snap back to reality until a Ferrari roared to a stop next to her and the driver removed his sunglasses. It was Mike, who had come to pick her up.Mark wore a loose floral shirt, exuding a fashionable, carefree aura. He smiled broadly as he opened the car door for Prisley.Prisley was surprised by the change of car. Hadn't it been a Bentley in the morning? She shook her head, wondering how she had somehow gotten involved with a rich dand
As the Ferrari pulled to the side of the road, Prinsley leaned motionless against the window, tears in her eyes, staring blankly ahead.When Mark thought about the way that couple had treated the woman he cared about, a wave of heartache coursed through his veins. He wished he could turn around and teach them a good lesson.It's just the Warner Group? What's so great about it?!With a firm grip, Mark slammed the steering wheel.The loud thud snapped Prisley out of her daze. "Ah, are we home? Thanks for driving me back," she said, hastily wiping away her tears and unbuckling her seat belt.Mark escorted her to the entrance of the building. He was tenderhearted at the sight of her fragile demeanor. He gently guided Prisley upright."Prisley, I don't need to know what happened between you and this man, but I won't let anyone manipulate you. If you're in trouble, tell me. I'll fix it."Looking up into his caring and concerned eyes, Prisley felt a wave of gratitude. It was so good to be car
The next morning, Prisley wakes up to find herself alone in bed, the pain from the bump increasing today.She struggles to turn over, feeling the faint scent of herbs on her body. She vaguely remembers that it was Heather who applied the medicine for her yesterday. She feels somewhat pleased. "Does that mean we made up?" She wonders.So much has happened in the last few days. It takes more of her brain than rushing to complete projects in the company.Heather hasn't contacted her, so Prisley just sleeps all day.On Monday, shortly after she arrives at the office, a delivery man comes into the office area with a large bouquet of flowers that appears to be very expensive."Excuse me, who is Prisley Anderson?" He asks.Prisley has just come out of the secretariat and is stops halfway to sign for the delivery. The secretaries come out to see what's going on, chattering."Dreamy Rose's bouquet! It's gorgeous!""You can’t buy these flowers in normal flower shops. They're top florist's choi
The man in the floral shirt freezes for a moment. The corners of his mouth turn up as he walks briskly over to the old Grant and sits down."Let me introduce, this is my youngest son, Mark," the old man says with a smile.Prisley and Mark keep a straight face, but there is actually a hidden smile in their eyes."Mark doesn't like to be involved in running the business. After finishing his master's degree last year, he's been playing around outside. He only joined Voda Pharm two months ago and is still absent from work form time and time."Mr. Grant, the kind old father, talks endlessly about his beloved son."Mark must be exceptionally capable to be so unrestrained," Prisley flatters.Old Grant is pleased with the praise and looks at his son with a smile, "He's just playful and likes to be free. And he refuses to work at headquarters."Mark is really surprised. In the morning, his assistant told him that the CEO of the Warner Group wanted to meet with his father. Since he is the one w