Chapter 4

Clearly, Celeste's little performance wasn't over yet.

As I poured the tea, she "accidentally" tipped the pot. The hot liquid spilled on me.

"Ah—" I gasped. The scalding pain made me instinctively lift my sleeve, but she grabbed my wrist before I could. The soaked fabric clung to my skin. I could already feel a blister forming. But I couldn't make a scene—not here, not in front of Dominic. It would only humiliate him.

"Oh dear, Ms. Monroe, I'm so sorry," Celeste said, feigning concern while dabbing at the spill with a tissue. "What a shame about your outfit."

She knew I was burned, yet she chose to pity my outfit instead of my pain.

I pulled away from her hand just in time to hear her suggest, "Still, tonight's guest is quite important. If our appearance isn't polished, it reflects poorly on us. Mr. Chase, perhaps it's best to let Ms. Monroe head back?"

I glanced at Dominic. His eyes swept over me with detached indifference. I lowered the sleeve I had begun to roll up.

"It's fine," I said quietly. "Once I sit down, no one will see."

But Dominic turned to me and asked, "Is it a bad burn?"

Both Celeste and I stared at him in disbelief.

She recovered first, quickly lifting my arm for inspection. "Oh no! It's already red! I'm so sorry, Ms. Monroe. Let me have the driver take you to the hospital. A girl's skin is delicate; better not leave a scar."

She handled it with such finesse—apologizing sweetly, playing the caring coworker, all while keeping her image intact. I, on the other hand, had only one advantage—Dominic's lustful indulgence—and I wasn't about to waste the chance to bite back.

"Ms. Hart, you really need to be more careful. Good thing it was me who got burned. If you had scalded our distinguished guest tonight, it would've been a real disaster."

Celeste froze, clearly not expecting me to strike back.

Dominic's gaze flicked over to me, amused, clearly seeing through my petty retaliation.

Embarrassed, I lowered my eyes and tucked my burned hand beneath the table.

Just then, Mr. Grant arrived. Celeste immediately stood and greeted him with a dazzling smile.

"Mr. Grant, you're looking especially dashing tonight. Who are you trying to charm?"

Jasper Grant chuckled. "Ms. Hart, I'm an old man now. Dashing's a stretch."

"Nonsense," she cooed. "Men in their fifties are in full bloom, and you look just like a fresh flower bud. Oh, and where's your lovely wife?"

He replied, "My mother fell ill suddenly. She had to rush home to care for her."

Celeste's expression was filled with concern. "Is that so? I'll check on her after dinner. Parents at this age, you know—these chronic ailments crop up. Mine are the same. I worry constantly while I'm away for work. But don't stress too much. Modern medicine is incredibly advanced. She'll be fine."

Her words smoothed the tension in Jasper's brow, and I had to admit, when it came to public relations, Celeste was a natural.

She lifted a luxury gift bag. "Mr. Grant, Mr. Chase knew your wife would be joining us tonight and had this gift prepared just for her. Please take it home to her after our dinner."

Jasper gestured for his assistant to accept it. "You're too kind, Mr. Chase."

Dominic offered a gracious smile. "Think nothing of it. I do hope it suits your wife's taste."

Jasper's laughter filled the private room.

Celeste turned to the main event. "Mr. Jasper Grant, this is Mr. Dominic Chase of Stratus Aerospace... and Mr. Chase, this is the VIP I mentioned meeting at the Eastmere Air Expo."

The two men shook hands and exchanged greetings.

They took their seats. No one introduced me, and I didn't expect them to. People like me knew our place—we were there to assist, not interrupt.

I went to pour tea for Mr. Grant. He looked up and asked, "And who is this beautiful young lady?"

Celeste answered with a smile, "She's Mr. Chase's assistant."

Jasper's eyes lit up as he looked me over. "Such a lovely assistant. Mr. Chase certainly has good taste."

That's when I realized the earlier spill had soaked through my blouse. The thin fabric now clung to my chest, faintly revealing the black bra underneath.

Dominic frowned, clearly displeased. I quickly poured the tea and slipped back into my seat.

Celeste offered a gentle smile, feigning concern. "Ms. Monroe, I happen to have a jacket in my car. I'll ask the driver to bring it up."

I had no choice but to accept. The outfit was already borderline inappropriate, and whatever her motives, I had to take it.

"Thank you," I replied.

I never imagined the jacket she brought me would be one she intended to return because it was too small.

When I put it on, it squeezed tightly at the chest and hugged my waist like a corset. I had to hold my breath just to keep the buttons from popping open.

Wearing that jacket felt like punishment. And it reminded me that I wouldn't be able to eat a single bite tonight.

But my body was already starving. Dominic had worn me out earlier that afternoon, and I was left with little strength and a gnawing hunger.

Back at the table, I clutched the jacket closed and sat down. "Thanks, Ms. Hart."

She gave me a pointed smile. "Youth is a gift. You wear it better than I ever could."

Jasper's gaze lingered on me in a way that made my skin crawl. I pressed myself against the back of the chair, trying to escape his stare—only to offer him an even clearer view.

He chuckled. I turned red.

I shifted my body and tugged at the collar of the jacket.

Dominic spoke up. "Mr. Grant—"

"Yes?" Jasper turned, finally refocusing on business.

The three of them drank and laughed, fully engrossed in conversation. Meanwhile, I barely touched my food.

Midway through, Dominic excused himself to the restroom. Jasper followed.

When they returned, Dominic's expression had darkened. He glanced at me with cold irritation.

I had no idea what had happened—just sat there quietly.

When we left the room, I saw only Celeste waiting in the hallway.

She approached me and said, "Mr. Chase asked you to see Mr. Grant off."

"Me? He wants me to take Mr. Grant back? He's a grown man!"

She smiled. "Mr. Grant seems to be quite fond of you. You should know that by now."

She straightened my collar and added, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "Women like you make it by leaning on... your assets. Now's your chance. Mr. Grant hasn't taken his eyes off you all evening. Make the most of it."

Then she slipped a hotel room key into my hand. "Make him happy. Whether this deal goes through depends on your performance."

I recoiled, trying to hand the key back. "I'm not going."

She grabbed my wrist, forcing the key into my palm. "This is Mr. Chase's order. Don't you get it?"

I frowned, refusing to believe it.

I reached for my phone.

She sneered. "Ms. Monroe, don't play dumb. You're not here just to serve tea. Assistants like you are part of the package. Dominic brought you along tonight to sweeten the deal."

So that's what I was now? A surprise gift?

Still, I didn't trust her. I insisted on calling Dominic.

"Go ahead," she said coolly.

My fingers trembled as I dialed. The line rang. Each ring sent my pulse racing. Part of me was terrified he'd actually answer and confirm my fears. But the call eventually died on its own.

Celeste smiled triumphantly. "Believe me now?"

My throat tightened. My pride was shattered.

She said, "Mr. Chase was never serious about you. You were just a toy."

"A toy?" Maybe she was right. I had forgotten my place.

Fury and humiliation burned through me. I snapped, "Ms. Hart, tell Mr. Chase this: neither of us is the one being played—after all, I got plenty out of it too. As for Mr. Grant, I'll let you handle him. You seem far more experienced."

I shoved the room card against her chest and walked away.

Celeste's mouth dropped open. As I neared the elevator, she finally shouted, "Alicia Monroe, are you fucking crazy?!"

I didn't look back. I raised a middle finger in reply.

Outside the hotel, Dominic's car waited. I braced myself—for anger, for retribution, for demands to repay the debts I owed… for the fallout that might ruin Eric's career.

I walked to the car. He rolled down the window.

Summoning the last of my dignity, I asked, "Did you really instruct me to send Mr. Grant back?"

He looked out the window, his expression ice-cold. "Is there a problem?"

I understood then. Celeste hadn't lied.

The only mistake here was that I had thought I mattered.

"No," I said, taking a steady breath. "Then I quit."