Chapter 3

When Bryce saw my car in the company parking lot, he was taken aback.

He probably hadn't expected me to take his offhand comment seriously and follow him to his office.

However, years of experience as a CEO sharpened his wits. He quickly regained his composure, adjusted his expression, and approached me.

"If Claudia's payroll proves I wasn't lying, promise me you won't make a fuss about anything I do in the future," he said.

Entering the elevator, he pressed the button for the seventh floor which led to the HR department.

"Mrs. Harrison, here's Ms. Claudia Quintana's payroll record for the past six months," the HR manager said politely. On closer inspection, her eyes were brimming with curiosity.

Claudia's salary had been halved starting last month, just as Bryce had claimed so confidently.

He loosened his tie triumphantly and gave the HR manager a knowing look, prompting her to discreetly leave the room.

"See? I wasn't lying. You've embarrassed me enough today. This is going to be the last time you'll be angry at me over Claudia."

He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me to the sofa.

"Since you're so free, why don't we have a baby? Jasmine, I like kids. Even though the doctor said it's unlikely for you to conceive, there's always a chance, right?"

When Bryce leaned closer to me, I instinctively turned away. Seeing this, he frowned and slammed his fist against the sofa.

"You're no fun at all. Forget it! I'm going to meet a client."

Then, he thundered out with a loud slam to the door.

When I passed by the pantry, the employees eyed me coldly.

"I'm not bringing food for everyone anymore from now on. Mrs. Harrison has a problem with it. It's not easy for a single mother like me to make ends meet. Now, she has my salary cut in half," Claudia moaned sadly, her voice breaking.

She sounded on the verge of tears, the epitome of an innocent victim.

The other employees listened gravely.

"I really want you all to try my cooking. You're all just in your twenties, about my son's age. I can't stand seeing you order takeout all the time," she went on.

"Claudia, you're like a big sister to us. We're all used to your cooking. Ugh, Mrs. Harrison is way too petty to be jealous over something so minor! She probably keeps Mr. Harrison on a tight leash at home," chimed James, one of the managers.

Laughter erupted as everyone nodded in agreement.

"Honestly, Mrs. Harrison's probably been a pretty face for too long. It's funny that she's jealous of you, Claudia. If Mr. Harrison hired a younger secretary, she'd probably never let him leave the house," James added. "Well, at least he promoted you to his personal secretary. Even if we miss out on your cooking, he won't."

He smirked, eyeing the lunchbox and the familiar pants in Claudia's hand. The lunch box was noticeably more elaborate than everyone else's.

That was when I realized the truth—Bryce's so-called demotion for Claudia was, in fact, a transfer.

No longer was she the procurement manager; rather, she was now his personal secretary instead.