Chapter 7

Lily stepped into Noa's apartment, the soft click of the door closing behind her doing little to muffle the storm inside her chest. Her hands trembled as she removed her shoes, her mind replaying the scene at the hospital on a never-ending loop—the moment Marina's body jerked in reaction to the allergen, the panicked shout from David, the sheer terror of being accused, and worst of all, the cold fury in David's eyes as he pointed at her.

"You're home," Noa said, emerging from the kitchen, wiping her hands with a dishtowel. She frowned as she looked at Lily. "What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I might as well have," Lily murmured, lowering herself onto the couch as if all the energy had been drained from her bones.

Noa sat beside her, waiting quietly.

Lily told Noa everything: the wild goose chase across the city to buy specific dishes, the discovery that David and Marina had already eaten, the theatrical performance Marina put on, and finally, the allergic reaction that landed her in the ER. She left nothing out, including David's harsh words and his threat of criminal charges.

Noa leaned back slowly, a stunned silence filling the space between them. Then, as if someone had pressed a switch, her face contorted in disgust.

"Marina is a damn drama queen!" she barked. "She knew exactly what she was doing, playing the victim as always. And David..." Her jaw clenched. "What a shameless scumbag. After everything you've done for him, he throws that kind of accusation in your face? Screw him."

Lily didn't respond. Her fingers curled around the throw pillow on her lap, clinging to it as if it might anchor her back to sanity.

"I need to leave," she finally whispered. "I can't take this anymore. I need to get away from him. Completely."

Noa nodded without hesitation. "Then let's do it. Find another job. Start fresh."

And she did. The very next morning, Lily pulled her laptop into her lap and began submitting resumes to every company she could find—small firms, start-ups, even multinationals in far-off districts. She poured her energy into her applications, tailoring cover letters, adjusting CVs, and even reaching out to former acquaintances in the industry.

But as the days went by, a chilling pattern began to emerge.

We're sorry, Ms Collins. At this time, we are not considering applicants affiliated with Hardison Corporation. We regret to inform you that your candidacy has been declined. We value your experience, but unfortunately, we are unable to proceed.

One after another—rejections.

After three straight days and over a dozen applications, the truth became impossible to ignore.

"They're scared of him," Lily said hollowly one evening, staring at her inbox. "They're scared of David. No one wants to poach his secretary and face his wrath."

Noa was pacing the room by then, running a hand through her messy hair. "Unbelievable! He's blocking your path even when he's the one who pushed you away! He doesn't want you, but he doesn't want anyone else to have you, either! What kind of twisted game is he playing?"

"I don't know," Lily said quietly. "But I can't live in this limbo. I need to breathe."

That night, Noa slammed her hands on the table with enough force to rattle the mugs.

"That's it. We're going out."

Lily blinked at her. "What?"

"You heard me. We're going to a bar. We'll drink, dance, and forget David Hardison exists. You've been moping for days. It's time to live a little."

A reluctant laugh escaped her. "You just want an excuse to party."

"I want you to feel like yourself again," she said, softer now. "You deserve that much."

And surprisingly, Lily agreed. With David silent these last few days and Marina likely recovering in comfort somewhere, she had no reason to sit at home wallowing in misery. She had every right to move on.

Noa chose a trendy bar in the heart of the city—a place she claimed had "good music, bad decisions, and excellent cocktails."

When they arrived, the place was already buzzing with energy. Neon lights flickered overhead, the bass thumped beneath their feet, and the scent of citrus, perfume, and spilled alcohol hung in the air.

At first, Lily stayed close to the bar, sipping a fruit-flavored cocktail while Noa mingled and cracked jokes. But after her second drink and a little coaxing, she let Noa drag her onto the dance floor.

The music vibrated through her bones, washing over her like a wave. For a while, she forgot—forgot the accusations, the betrayals, the invisible leash David still seemed to hold around her neck. She lost herself in the rhythm, in the laughter, in the glittering world where nothing mattered but now.

Until she saw him.