Chapter 2

The next day, she went to work as usual.

As marketing director, her colleagues didn't dare say anything to her face, but along the way, people kept stealing glances and whispering behind her back.

She heard that Carter from Felman Corporation was visiting for an inspection. Since she'd been removed from the project, she didn't go to greet him.

After she worked for a while, her office door opened.

Carter walked in.

Even in casual business attire, Carter couldn't hide his air of authority. His custom Balenciaga suit enhanced his noble yet lazy demeanor, and his striking features complemented the bold fashion choices.

He immediately sprawled on her sofa with his legs crossed, his eyes full of contempt as he glanced at the nameplate on her desk.

He read aloud, "Marketing Director?"

Then in an accusatory tone, "Hannah, did you sleep your way to this position?"

She dug her nails into her thigh, struggling not to lose control. If she lost it, Carter would win.

Hannah took a deep breath, swallowed her humiliation, and said nonchalantly, "I slept with your father to get here."

Carter visibly bristled with anger but couldn't do anything to her.

Hannah continued calmly, "I don't recall offending you. Why are you so determined to destroy me?"

Carter burst out laughing. "Because I feel like it. I'm here to warn you—stay away from Darren."

"I had no idea you'd become this delusional after all these years, Mr. Watson."

Overconfident, thinking every woman who came near them must want them.

Carter stood up angrily. "What did you say?"

He hadn't been this angry when she insulted his father, but insulting him directly struck a nerve.

"I've never had any relationship with Darren, and I never will."

Carter put his hands on his hips. "Really? Your colleague Shirley said when you heard this project was Felman's, you fought tooth and nail to get it."

Hannah's smile faded.

She'd fought for the project, but not because of Carter. She hadn't known Felman's heir was Carter, nor that Darren was the real owner behind Felman.

She fought for every opportunity.

Whether intentional or not, she wanted nothing to do with these people.

It made her look pathetic.

Seeing her stunned expression, Carter assumed she felt guilty and issued his ultimatum. "Hannah, leave New York."

Hannah lifted her chin slightly. "I will, but not because you're driving me out. It's because seeing you all makes me sick."

Carter stared at her face in shock. Darren used to say he couldn't read Hannah. Now Carter couldn't either.

As soon as Carter left, Shirley came to her office.

She circled the room twice with the air of a victor.

She and Shirley had always been rivals. She was director of Team One, Shirley of Team Two. Her team consistently ranked first in performance, while Shirley's was perpetually second.

But now that Shirley had secured the Felman project, Team Two's performance would surpass hers.

Shirley asked in a fake concerned tone, "Hannah, are you old friends with Carter?"

Perhaps Carter's attitude had been unclear, so Shirley came to probe the situation.

"Whether we're old friends is none of your business. I've handed over all the project materials. If you can't understand them, use a dictionary."

Shirley was used to Hannah's sharp tongue and assumed she was just angry about losing the project.

Unable to get the answers she wanted, Shirley dropped her fake smile. "By the way, the boss said since I'm handling the Felman project, I won't have time for Mr. Chancer’s account. He wants me to transfer it to you."

Shirley pushed the client information toward her. "I've known Mr. Chancer for years. He's a big client. Make the most of it."

She quickly messaged their boss to confirm Mr. Chancer was really being assigned to her. He confirmed.

If it were a premium client, Shirley would die before handing it over.

But she'd just lost the Felman project—she couldn't refuse this one too.

After confirming the meeting time with Mr. Chancer, she deliberately chose a cafe for their meeting. But when she and her assistant arrived, the table was set with a full dinner and alcohol.

She turned to the server, "I ordered tea, didn't I? Since when do you serve meals here?"

Besides, it was three in the afternoon—too late for lunch, too early for dinner.

The room wasn't soundproof. Mr. Chancer inside heard their conversation and called out, "Don't bother asking the server. Ask me—I own this cafe."

Hannah put on her professional fake smile. "My apologies. Seems I'm not familiar with all your businesses, Mr. Chancer."

"Have a seat. Don't be surprised by my dining hours. We bosses may look glamorous, but we can't even get a proper meal most days."

His explanation eased her concerns slightly.

She sat down with her assistant, a fresh college graduate who wasn't familiar with the business yet. Her experienced assistants had all been reassigned to the Felman project.

She had to personally take out her laptop to record Mr. Chancer's requirements.

Mr. Chancer waved dismissively. "No rush. I just said I haven't had lunch. Let me eat something first."

She realized he was right—discussing work now would be rude.

She put away her laptop and joined him for the meal.

After just a few bites, Mr. Chancer generously offered his wine. "Try some."

Middle of the day, and she had a young woman with her—she was reluctant to drink.

Mr. Chancer was in his forties, with the typical businessman's belly and nouveau riche's swagger.

Years in high society had given him confidence and poise, without the greasiness of middle-aged men.

Mr. Chancer complained, "I'm asking you to create a wine marketing proposal. How can you write it without tasting? You're a veteran in this field, not some rookie."

Mr. Chancer spoke bluntly, but she knew he wasn't as straightforward as he seemed.

With his words putting her on the spot, she couldn't refuse.

After the first glass, it became harder to refuse his subsequent toasts.

Feeling herself reaching her limit, she insisted she couldn't drink anymore.

Mr. Chancer didn't push her, instead turning to her assistant Jenny. "Go to the kitchen and check on the dishes."

Jenny didn't realize that being sent to check on dishes was just an excuse to get rid of her.

Hannah quickly turned on her phone's recording function.

She wanted to see what Mr. Chancer was planning.

Mr. Chancer didn't make any physical advances, just lit a cigarette.

"Miss Sullivan, you're a smart woman, so I'll be direct. Come by for drinks occasionally, build a relationship. All my projects and my partners' projects will be yours. I believe what I can offer will secure your current position."

She understood his subtext—sleep with him, and the benefits would follow.

Smart people spoke this way. Even with a recording, she couldn't catch him red-handed. People in these positions were all shrewd operators.

Mr. Chancer must have researched her KPIs to speak so boldly.

"I think it would be more convenient to socialize with your wife. Women have more in common. I really can't handle alcohol."

"Don't mention it. My wife's abroad with our kid for school. Raising children these days is really tough."

Wife abroad, so he wanted a lover at home.

"What a shame. When she returns, I'll invite her for a spa day. If you approve of my proposal, I'll come to your company personally to present it."

Mr. Chancer narrowed his eyes and stubbed out his cigarette.

"What happened at Felman's meeting isn't a secret. Once certain things are exposed, you can't go back. I can see you don't want to take shortcuts, but you already have. Now others won't let you stop. It's an industry unspoken rule. Otherwise, you'll have to leave this field entirely."

Mr. Chancer spoke the truth. Once labeled as someone who traded sex for business, every project she got would be tainted.

From the clients' perspective, if she slept with one but not another, wouldn't they take it as an insult?

They wouldn't care about her reasons for refusing—they'd just think a whore had no right to be picky about clients.

Unless she found a powerful protector. Right now, Mr. Chancer seemed like the most viable option.

Shirley definitely knew what kind of person Mr. Chancer was, which was why she couldn't close the deal. She'd taken this chance to sell Hannah out.

And selling her couldn't happen without their boss's support.

She'd worked for this boss for four years, made him so much money. After yesterday's meeting, once the boss thought she was sellable, he immediately sold her out.

She stood up. "Thank you for the lesson, Mr. Chancer. I've had too much to drink. I'll take my leave."

Mr. Chancer looked confident. "You're welcome back anytime."

After she left the private room, the innocent college student Jenny had just returned. "Hannah, the server said there are no more dishes coming."

She looked at Jenny and sighed. "Let's go."

Her home was in the opposite direction from Jenny’s, and she called an Uber for her.

Turning around, she saw the same black car from yesterday stopped in front of her.