Chapter 4

The entire administration department had gathered for the compliance meeting.

The atmosphere was so tense that even the hum of the air conditioner sounded sharp and out of place.

I sat in the center of the front row while Madison stood beside the projector screen.

Photos flashed across the screen one after another, each showing Benedict carrying supplies, pouring coffee, or getting into his car.

Madison looked down at me. "Since joining this company, Natasha's conduct has gone far beyond the scope of her duties.

"You claim to have face blindness, yet your medical declaration form on file makes no mention of any such condition.

"You used a medical condition as a shield to deceive the company and deliberately work your way into upper management. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

I clenched my fists. "I've already requested another medical examination at the hospital. By tomorrow, we'll know whether my medical records were falsified.

"As for my work, every reception log and numerical verification I've completed is recorded in the system. I've never made a single mistake."

"System records can be altered after the fact. Photos can't be faked!" Tina shouted from the back row. "You order the CEO around like it's the most natural thing in the world, and you expect us not to question what you're really after?"

Madison slammed a Voluntary Resignation Agreement onto the table in front of me. "Sign it. Otherwise, these materials go straight to the board tomorrow, and Mr. Carrington will face an investigation alongside you because of your actions.

"Natasha, surely you don't want to tarnish his reputation by making it look as though he's covering for you, especially when he's barely settled into his position."

Her words struck me where I was most vulnerable.

I stared at the punitive agreement, took a deep breath, and picked up the pen.

The tip hovered over the paper as a thought echoed in my mind. "Natasha, don't let him get dragged down because of you."

I had barely written the first stroke of my name when the conference room door flew open.

The entire room fell silent.

Benedict strode in with an icy expression and an air of authority that seemed to cut through the tension.

Madison's expression faltered. "Mr. Carrington, this is an internal compliance review for the administration department. According to protocol, you should recuse yourself—"

"Protocol exists to establish the truth, not to force people into submission."

Benedict marched over to me, snatched the Voluntary Resignation Agreement off the table, and tore it in half before everyone's eyes. Then he tossed the pieces into the trash.

He turned to face the room, his voice firm and commanding. "You want an explanation? Fine. I'll give you one. Natasha never deliberately approached me.

"I was the one who concealed my identity from her from the very beginning. I willingly let her order me around. And if you're wondering who was pursuing whom..."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over Madison's stunned face. "I was the one pursuing her."

A collective gasp swept through the room.

Benedict turned back to me, his intense gaze fixed on mine. "If Natasha is going to resign from anything, it'll only be her position as an administrative associate.

"As for the position of Mrs. Carrington, the wife of Starhelm Group's CEO, that place has always been reserved for her."

The conference room erupted into an uproar.

I pulled my hand free of his grasp. "Benedict, you can't announce your feelings as if you're issuing a press release."

He froze. "Natasha?"

"You can help clear my name, but you don't get to decide who I am." I met his gaze and enunciated every word. "I don't need the title of CEO's wife to restore my reputation. I'm innocent, and I don't need anyone to hand me a new identity out of charity."

Madison's initial shock had already given way to a cold, twisted smile. "What a noble little performance. So righteous, so fearless in the face of power."

She struck a key on the keyboard, and the image on the projector screen changed instantly. "Natasha, you claim you're innocent? Then let everyone take a look at this!"

An old, high-resolution photograph appeared on the screen.

It was from last winter. In the photo, I was walking arm in arm with a man, our bodies close together as we entered a short-stay hotel.

Beneath the image was a line of glaring red text: [Natasha also "mistook" a married man at her previous company. Funny how her condition always seems to pick the right targets.]

Every pair of eyes in the room turned toward me, their gazes as sharp as knives.

"My God! So she's a repeat offender!"

"She went after a married man, and she still has the nerve to call herself innocent!"

I stared at the man's face on the screen. He wore a dark jacket and had a sharply defined profile.

Cold sweat instantly soaked through the back of my shirt. Even with such a clear photograph right in front of me, I couldn't recognize the man at all.