"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 office." It was Steve, grinning broadly.
Ever since he had attended that business event with Prisley, Steve had felt a sense of familiarity with her.
Prisley didn't even acknowledge him as she rushed out of the door. Steve looked puzzled and walked towards the office area, where he spotted Heather coming out of Prisley's office.
"Heather! It's you!" Steve greeted him, patting him on the shoulder.
Heather turned to him indifferently. A handprint was visible on his cheek, red and fresh.
Steve chuckled, "What happened between you? I saw Prisley run out crying."
"It's none of your business," Heather replied coldly, striding towards his own office.
Steve followed nosily, "Did you do something to her? Prisley's so nice. Don’t be so mean."
Heather stopped and turned around, "She wanted to quit. I gave her plenty of chances to stay."
"She’s just an assistant, I can get a new one from HR tomorrow."
For him, the things he wanted were always within reach, nothing worth fussing over.
How dare she treat him like this? Heather splashed cold water on his face and stared at the red mark in the mirror. The slap made him furious. He gritted his teeth.
Prisley wiped away her tears, walking numbly down the street. There weren't many pedestrians on this early weekend morning. Despite the warm spring sunlight, she still felt cold.
Heather's sudden transformation into a demon had frightened her. In the four years they’d working together, she had never seen him like this, acting as he'd lost his mind.
Even though she was far from the office building now, she couldn't stop shaking all over.
As she was about to cross the street, the roar of a heavy motorcycle engine grew louder, approaching rapidly. Before she could look up, the motorcycle was right in front of her.
Prisley instinctively stepped back, but the front of the motorcycle grazed her. Dressed in a long, loose skirt, she was tossed into the air, like a delicate daisy caught in the wind.
The motorcycle screeched to a stop nearly ten meters away. The rider removed his helmet and dashed toward her. His expression was tense.
Prisley lay on the ground. Her face was pale. She struggled to get up.
"Don't move! Please lie down. I'll call an ambulance right away," the rider said. He knelt beside her, gently pressed her shoulder to keep her from getting up, then dialed for help.
"I'm terribly sorry, I was distracted just now." The rider apologized sincerely.
Prisley couldn't find the words. Her eyes wide. Her tears streamed down her face uncontrollably. She hadn't lost consciousness, but her body felt out of control. She gasped for breath, unsure if it was from fear or pain.
The ambulance arrived quickly and rushed Prisley to the hospital. She lay on the gurney and was thoroughly examined. Feeling like she had died and come back to life, she slowly regained consciousness.
Looking at the logos on the walls and equipment, she realized she was in the East Woods Medical Center, the most prestigious private hospital in the city.
"Are you feeling better?" the motorcycle rider asked softly, standing nearby with a gentle gaze.
He was tall, dressed in leather motorcycle gear and jeans. He was broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted. His warm, light blue eyes held a hint of smile, undeniably charming.
Prisley felt uncomfortable. "This hospital must be expensive..."
He smiled faintly. "Don't worry about that. I already feel guilty enough about hitting you. I just hope you're not badly injured."
Prisley nodded nervously and awkwardly, burying half of her face in the blanket. Her body ached all over. She was uncertain of her injuries and still felt nervous.
The accident, combined with the unpleasant encounter with Heather earlier, make Prisley terrified. She tried hard to gave Mark a smile, but still could not.
"I'm Mark Grant. Add me to your list when you feel comfortable. I'll take full responsibility for your injuries," Mark said.
"Prisley Anderson," She murmured, pulling herself up slightly.
Mark gestured for her to lie back down. Just then, another man entered with several shopping bags. He whispered to Mark and handed him the bags.
"Sorry about staining your skirt. I had someone buy a similar style. I hope you don't mind the slight difference," Mark said, looking at Prisley with a gentle smile, like the warm winter sun.
Prisley looked at the logo on the bags, realizing that the clothes were from a brand much more expensive than what she was wearing - maybe ten times the price or more.
She managed to sit up a little and said, "thank you," but couldn't hide the panic in her eyes.
"Scared, huh?" Mark pulled up a chair and sat beside her, like an old friend.
Prisley nodded.
"Sorry, I was driving too fast. I apologize again," Mark said with a smile. His tall frame made the chair appear mismatched, with his long legs stretching out far.
A nurse knocked and entered. "Mr. Grant, the test results are in. This lady is lucky, no major injuries, just soft tissue bruising. A few days of rest and some topical ointments should do the trick."
"Also there's a test result regarding privacy. I need to speak with this lady alone."
"Don't worry, I'll wait for you outside," Mark said, leaving the room.
The nurse handed Prisley a report. "Miss, you're currently five weeks pregnant. Your progesterone levels are low, indicating an imminent miscarriage."
"I'll take you to see the doctor shortly."
Prisley felt as if she'd been struck by lightning. She stared at the report in disbelief. Five weeks pregnant? How was that possible?!
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
Prisley looks out the window at the street scene and senses something is wrong. "Heather, you took the wrong turn. We should have turned left at the last intersection.""Heather, where are you taking me?"Ignoring Prisley, Heather steps on the gas.The car roars along, entering an upscale neighbourhood and finally stopping in a large courtyard.Prisley is astonished. Why would Heather bring her to his own home?In the four years they have been together, she has only been there a few times, just to wait on the porch for the butler to bring his luggage before rushing off to the airport.She has never actually entered his home.What is he thinking?Prisley hesitantly gets out of the car and is pulled into the house and pressed against the door.His lips come down hard, a storm of kisses that land wildly on Prisley's cheeks and neck.Before Prisley knows what is happening, she is being kissed until she feels hot all over. She shivers, breathes heavily, and bites her lower lip to muffle t
As soon as Filla walks in the door, she sees Heather and Prisley coming out of the upstairs bedroom.Prisley is wearing Heather's white shirt and looks like she’s not even wearing underwear. It is clear at a glance what they have done.Filla's face twists in displeasure, and then changes in seconds to a look of contempt."Heather, why do you bring this cheap bastard home when I'm not here?""It's understandable for a young girl to trade her body for quick money. You must have gotten quite a bit over the years following Heather, didn't you?""Cheap things are easy to take care of. Heather only pays for one meal and you serve him for four years."Prisley grips the hem of her shirt tightly, tears welling up in her eyes."What are you doing here, Filla?" Heather asks coldly."Can't I come? It's been four years, and you still have my fingerprints, which means I can come at anytime, right?" She looks provocatively at Prisley .Prisley's fingertips tremble as she feels her dignity being brut
Prisley turnsthe phone to the side, not allowing Mark to see her face."Nothing, just getting ready for bed," she says."No, you're crying," Mark says,wiping away his smile, "turn the screen around.""I'm fine, goodnight,Mark." She replies."If you don't turn it around, I'mcomingto find you right now," Mark's voice isirrefutable.Prisley has no choice but to obediently show her face on the screen, trying to control the sadness on her face."Why are you crying again? You were fine at dinner," Mark's voice isvery soft, "isit that jerk Heather?"Prisley'sveneer of strength crumblesunder this softness. Finally, shecan't help but let out all her aggression."Mark, thank you for your concern, but this is my own businessand I can hand