Chapter 3

Darren's car window rolled down. He glanced at her warily. "What are you doing here?"

Seeing Darren's face, she stepped back, overwhelmed by emotions. Not wanting another word with him, she said casually, "Business dinner with a client."

Darren glanced at the tea house sign and checked his watch. "Get in."

In public, Darren appeared cultured and helpful, but of everyone she knew, he was the most ruthless.

Four years ago, he still had boyish charm. Now his words carried an authority that allowed no refusal.

A business dinner at this hour seemed unlikely—it probably looked like she'd been waiting for him deliberately. If she got in his car, Darren would definitely assume she'd planned this.

Hannah said firmly, "No thanks, I'll get an Uber."

Unfazed by the rejection, Darren simply drove away.

She exhaled in relief. Maybe it was his stronger presence now, but facing Darren mixed fear with hatred. What scared her most was how he could be laughing one moment and turn vicious the next.

When she tried to order another ride, the app showed one already in progress. She couldn't figure out how to request another ride for herself.

She headed toward Broadway, hoping to find a yellow cab.

Already queasy from too much wine, she passed a seafood restaurant. The smell hit her, and she ran to a trash can to throw up.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Chancer's car pull up behind her. He opened his door to get out.

Getting in Mr. Chancer's car would mean agreeing to be his mistress.

Mr. Chancer acted polite and generous, but when a powerful man wanted a powerless woman, did she really have the right to refuse?

Looking back, she saw Darren's car had stopped by the curb.

Getting in Mr. Chancer's car meant no turning back.

Getting in Darren's car meant her dignity would be crushed again.

She took a breath and got into Darren's car.

Once she was in, Mr. Chancer drove away.

Darren had been on a call. Seeing her get in, he hung up.

He didn't seem surprised by her choice.

Without mockery, like speaking to a stranger, he asked flatly, "Where to?"

She entered her address on the car's touchscreen.

They drove in silence.

The car's climate control was perfect, like entering an air-conditioned sanctuary, but she couldn't relax.

Her hands stayed folded in her lap, eyes fixed straight ahead.

No music played. The quiet felt oppressive.

Maybe it was his past cruelty and knowing his true nature, but sharing this space with him felt unbearable.

Suddenly she lurched forward, the seatbelt cutting into her chest.

Darren checked the rearview mirror.

Hannah rubbed her neck. "What happened?"

"Someone rear-ended us."

After Darren got out, she finally dared to examine his car. Every detail looked hand-crafted. She couldn't imagine the price tag.

In college, she'd thought the gap between them was just rich versus poor. Now it felt like an insurmountable class divide.

A seductive figure emerged from the other car's driver's seat.

She bowed apologetically, her voice syrupy sweet. "I'm so sorry! Still getting used to my new car."

"Darren? Is that really you?" Quincy exclaimed with delight.

Darren didn't respond, just inspected the damage.

Quincy tossed her hair, moving closer. "We went to university together! I was in the Business School."

Darren's gaze briefly met Quincy's face before sliding away.

Quincy pulled out her phone. "Let's exchange numbers. I'll Venmo you for the repairs."

Darren's lips curved, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Don't worry about it. My assistant will handle everything."

Hannah watched the performance through the rearview mirror. For a fender-bender like this, insurance would cover everything. Quincy was obviously using the accident to hook a rich guy.

Hannah pushed the car door open and got out.

Quincy looked even more shocked to see her than she had been to see Darren.

"Hannah Sullivan? How could you..."

Quincy couldn't believe that Hannah, with her ruined reputation, was still riding with Darren. Quincy had tried so hard for so long, yet Darren didn't even remember her.

Hannah waved at Quincy. "Hi, it's been a while."

Quincy came from the same hometown as her. After graduation, she'd heard Quincy stayed in Miami. She hadn't expected her to show up here.

Darren gave Quincy his secretary's number and got back in the car.

Quincy glared at her, teetering on her high heels.

As if Hannah had ruined her gold-digging plans.

Did Quincy really think Darren was some naive rich boy? Trying to seduce him would be the death of her.

Hannah smiled at Quincy. "Still hunting for rich guys after all these years? Haven't landed one yet?"

Quincy whispered, "Still better than being a mistress."

"A whore always thinks the worst of others because that's what she is herself. I never understood that saying before, but now I do. Careful spreading rumors about me, Quincy. Have you forgotten what I'm capable of? Want to go back to prison?"

Quincy's face went pale at Hannah's words, remembering her two years behind bars. Her teeth ground with hatred.

The rear-ending delayed them half an hour. During the drive, Darren took a call.

As they continued, Hannah noticed something wrong. "Mr. Lansworth, this isn't the way to my place."

Darren seemed to savor her words, muttering mockingly, "Mr. Lansworth?"

His fingers tapped the steering wheel. "There's a problem with the project. You need to check it out."

Hannah's face turned cold. "I've already left 'Project DY.' If there's an issue, contact Shirley."

Darren didn't stop. "Whether or not you execute the project, if your proposal has problems, that reflects on your abilities."

Before she could refuse, Darren pulled up at the construction site for the giant DY logo.

Workers were using cranes to secure the installation, with over a dozen workers supporting the massive structure.

Hannah looked at Darren in surprise. Even if the logo collapsed, such matters were beneath someone of his level. Yet here he was in person.

People from her company and Felman Corporation were shocked to see her arrive with Darren.

They wondered who Hannah really was. Yesterday she'd been publicly humiliated, yet today the mysterious CEO arrived with her.

Darren pointed at the giant logo. "Your proposal failed safety standards."

Her proposals had been thoroughly reviewed. She and the 3D designer had pulled many all-nighters on this project. After completion, she'd run model simulations. There couldn't be problems.

She stepped forward to inspect, comparing against the design plans. "There's nothing wrong with my proposal."

Shirley's voice turned shrill. "Nothing wrong? This installation can't even withstand moderate winds, and you call that nothing wrong?"

Hannah slapped the design plans into Shirley's hands. "If you can't read blueprints, how did you dare take on such a big project?"

Shirley sneered. "Then tell me, what did I do wrong?"

Hannah pointed at the blueprint. "You didn't have them install these support beams."

Shirley had been in the industry long enough to know she'd made a huge mistake.

No matter how small, support beams were critical—not one could be omitted. Basic knowledge.

Making such a rookie error meant career suicide in this industry.

Shirley backhanded her assistant. "How could you let the workers cut corners?"

The assistant stood stunned, about to protest when Shirley's glare silenced her.

Hannah knew Shirley was looking for a scapegoat.

Obviously, Shirley bore the greatest responsibility. These beams might seem minor, but installing them would take at least a day and require specialized welders.

Shirley had prioritized timeline and cost-cutting, signing off on the cheapest, fastest bid without properly reviewing the construction plans.