Chapter 5: Met With Her

"Prisley, you don't have to go tonight." Heather said. His tone was deep with melancholy.

"Why not? You already agreed with Steve."

Heather drew her closer and tightened his embrace. "I just... don't want you to go." His gaze softened, showing a hint of vulnerability that was 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.

She leaned against him, feeling Heather's firm chest. Just as she was about to comfort him, Heather suddenly released her. His eyes turned cold again.

"You can go now." He walked out of the office, leaving Prisley behind.

Heather felt an inexplicable anger. Just because Filla was back, Prisley wanted to leave him. And she seemed determined to do it, showing no signs of changing her mind.

Heather was in a bad mood. He wanted Prisley to stay with him tonight. Even if they just stayed in the same room without saying a word, he would feel comfortable.

But he never begged for things from anyone. He couldn't express his thoughts to Prisley directly.

Prisley was astonished. This man... who had been so tender and affectionate moments before, had suddenly changed into distant and cold again. She pouted slightly.

Steve drove with a cheerful face, with a broad grin on his face.

"Prisley, you've been with Heather for quite a few years now, haven't you?" he asked in a casual tone.

"Over four years," she replied.

"Aren't you tired of him yet? How about joining me? I really admire you." Steve wasn't as reserved as Heather. He was talkative and always had a smile on his face.

Prisley felt embarrassed. 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. He's a workaholic, always working and nothing else. If you were with me, I wouldn't make you work so hard. I would take you out a lot to have fun, enjoy delicious food, go skiing, sail yachts, and enjoy the good things in life."

Steve was also the son of a wealthy family, although his family's business was much smaller than Heather's.

He didn't want to return to the family business and insisted on co-founding Warner Tech with Heather. He also served 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.

Steve was Heather's confidant, but how much did he really know about her relationship with Heather? Prisley wasn't sure. She didn't know how to answer him. So she forced a smile and looked out the window.

At the party, guests gathered in small groups, raising their glasses and chatting.  Accompanying Steve, Prisley met several prominent people.

As a beautiful woman, she naturally attracted attention, Her excellent communication skills allowed her to engage everyone in pleasant conversation.

Later that evening, Prisley found a seat in a corner. Steve approached with two glasses of wine.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked.

Prisley nodded with a smile.  Her opinion of Steve had changed. Despite his seemingly unreliable exterior, he proved to be quite adept at discussing serious matters. She finally understood why Heather had maintained a friendship with him for so many years.

"To our first collaboration. Prisley, you really impress me," Steve complimented. "I'll double your overtime pay for today."

"The finance department won't be happy," Prisley joked.

"I'll pay out of my own pocket."

"Well, my boss won't be pleased," Prisley chuckled.

"Heather? That vulnerable guy? If he dares to complain, I'll beat him up for you."

"How could he be vulnerable?" Prisley found it hard to believe. She had been with Heather for four years and always thought he had a tough personality and temper.

"You don't know, do you? Despite his tough exterior, he's not that strong inside. Otherwise, after Filla left..." Steve stopped himself in mid-sentence.

"Forget it. I shouldn't say more. Or he'll beat me up."

Steve wisely shut his mouth. Prisley rolled her eyes at him.

A glamorous woman walked past their table. The woman had a slim figure, wore an elegant dress, and had a strikingly beautiful yet somewhat familiar face.

"Hi, Filla, what a surprise to see you here!" Steve greeted her.

Filla?

Prisley's heart skipped a few beats. The face before her was unmistakably the one she had tried to imitate countless times from a photograph.

Filla? Prisley's heart skipped a few beats. The face in front of her was indeed the one she had tried to imitate countless times from photos. Four years had passed, and she seemed more mature and seductive than in the pictures.

Meeting her here made Prisley wish she could escape the awkwardness as quickly as possible.

"You're Heather's assistant, right? I've heard of you," Filla said with a slight smile on her haughty face.

"Yes, how did you know?" Prisley asked, feeling a little uneasy.

"Heather is obviously still hung up on me. You look a lot like me. Well, a pretty good substitute," Filla said, eyeing Prisley up and down, making her feel extremely uncomfortable.

"I think you might be wrong. Heather never intended for me to replace you," Prisley replied, her face pale as she struggled to control her inner turmoil.

"Is that so? But I heard you even dressing in my style."

"Let me tell you, a fake is always a fake. You'll never replace me."

"As long as I want, Heather will come back to me at anytime. He did come back. And he is still so hot in bed. You, the cheap fake, better know your place."

Steve was stunned. He didn't expect such a dramatic confrontation between the substitute and the original.

Prisley's face was rigid, her chest heaving. The arrogant woman was right- she was indeed a substitute.

"That's enough, Filla," Steve interrupted harshly.

"Did Heather tell you these things himself? If not, please don't make assumptions."

"I don't see much resemblance between Prisley and you."

"Hmph, believe what you want. She knows it best." Filla raised her head arrogantly and walked away.

Prisley's eyes dimmed, and she wished she could disappear. "I'm sorry, Steve. I want to go home."

"I'll take you home. I don't want to stay in this damn place either."

As soon as Prisley stepped out of the venue, tears began to fall. Her big eyes were filled with sadness, and her previously confident and radiant demeanor was gone, her shoulders slumped.

"I'm sorry, Prisley. I didn't know she was here, or I wouldn't have brought you," Steve murmured, apologizing sincerely.

"It's not your fault," Prisley replied. "Do I look like a clown?"

"No, no, you're beautiful and capable. And everyone at the party was nice to you."

Prisley shook her head, refusing to accept Steve's compliments.

"Don't worry about Filla... You are Prisley, not someone else," Steve comforted her.

"Thank you, Steve." Prisley tried to hold back her tears and nodded. Having Steve speak up for her was the greatest comfort she could ask for.

When Prisley got home, she kicked off her high heels and walked inside without turning on the light.

She had never imagined being in such an embarrassing situation, being ridiculed as a fake. She felt utterly miserable. Coupled with the abuse she had received from Heather during the day, all of her unhappiness piled up. She let the tears flow freely in the darkness.

Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around her.

Before she could cry out, her lips were captured in a warm, familiar kiss. She realized immediately that it was him.

He pulled Prisley's pinned-up hair roughly, letting it cascade down like a waterfall. He held the back of her head and kissed her deeply. He opened her mouth, kissing her with fervor. His breath washed over her face, the heavy sound of his breathing echoing in her ears, igniting her desire.

Exhausted from her earlier grief, Prisley stood there in the dark, allowing his kisses to travel from her lips to her cheeks and neck. His hands caressed the sensitive areas of her body, sending electric shocks through her.

"Are you crying?" he asked.