Candice had witnessed Kyle’s deep affection—and suffered his betrayal. She endured in silence, tricking him into signing the divorce papers. When the 30-day cooling-off period ended, she calmly informed him, “Kyle, I don’t want you anymore. Get out of my life.” Kyle was stunned as if struck by lightning. His eyes reddened in panic. He tore the agreement to shreds. “Who said we’re getting divorced? I don’t agree!” Charlie Clemens was a powerful tycoon, a man beyond reach. She didn’t want to get involved with him, yet fate kept bringing them together. At a banquet, tipsy and reckless, she accidentally tugged on his tie. He leaned down, his voice low and teasing by her ear: “Your ex-husband is watching. You sure you want to be this... bold?”
view moreKyle Jackson cheated.
Candice stood outside the CEO’s office.
A cold chill seeped through her as if she were wrapped in a sheet of ice. Her black high heels seemed to melt into the dark-veined marble floor.
After a moment, she raised her hand and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” came a deep male voice from inside.
Candice tightened her grip slightly on the documents in her hand and opened the door with the other.
As soon as she stepped inside, a soft smile appeared on her lips. She walked straight to the man’s side.
“Busy? I’ve got a few urgent documents that need your signature.”
Though she asked if he was busy, she had already placed the documents in front of him, even thoughtfully flipping to where he needed to sign.
Kyle had just returned this morning from a business trip to Switzerland.
He had come straight to the office to handle work. His desk was already piled with files, and his usually sharp, aristocratic face showed signs of fatigue.
Without even glancing at the documents handed to him, he signed every page.
“Thanks for your hard work.”
Candice gathered the signed documents, then casually asked, “Will you be home for dinner tonight?”
“I’ve got plans. Don’t wait for me,” he replied without even looking up.
“Alright, then I’ll head out.”
Candice turned and walked away with the documents.
But the moment she turned around, the smile on her face turned into one of icy mockery.
As she passed the lounge attached to the office, she heard a faint sound—like a kitten or puppy hopping off a bed. She glanced toward the sofa.
There were scattered snack wrappers on the coffee table, a half-finished milk tea, and on the floor, a toppled pale pink high heel…
In an instant, she understood. Her heart turned to ash.
Candice returned to her own office.
It felt as if the short walk back had drained all her energy. When she finally sat down, she let out a long, weary breath.
From the pile of documents, she pulled out one.
The divorce agreement.
Flipping to the last page, she traced his signature with a mocking expression, recalling the past…
His once-passionate vow to marry her.
Her mother-in-law’s sneering reminder not to get too full of herself—"A man can never love just one woman."
And how she once believed, “We’re different.”
Ha. Different? What a joke.
He was cheating with a young girl and thought he’d hidden it well, shamelessly enjoying the thrill of the affair.
This recent business trip? He took that girl along.
And now he’d even brought her back to the company.
Candice pulled her hand back and snapped a photo of the signed page, sending it to her mother-in-law with a short message: He signed.
A week ago, she had negotiated a deal with her mother-in-law.
The woman demanded Candice initiate the divorce and keep their secret marriage hidden.
In return, she agreed to a ten-billion-yuan settlement.
In one month, she’d make sure Kyle was completely out of her life.
Knock knock—
Someone knocked on the door.
Candice quickly put away the agreement. “Come in.”
The door opened, and in walked Terry, Kyle’s assistant.
“Miss Hale, the CEO asked me to bring this to you,” he said, placing an emerald velvet box on her desk.
She opened it carelessly. Inside was an exquisite, likely very expensive diamond jewelry set.
And the first image that flashed through her mind?
A girl with short hair and dreamy eyes in a bathrobe, carelessly dangling a diamond necklace, soft lights behind her, a messy bed, kiss marks stark against pale skin…
Disgust churned in her stomach.
“Thank you, Assistant He.”
She lifted her gaze. Her eyes were like blades.
Terry felt a chill run down his spine.
Nervous, he blurted, “The CEO picked it out himself—it’s a one-of-a-kind set.”
Too bad his heart wasn’t one-of-a-kind.
She didn’t want it anymore.
Candice smiled faintly.
“Oh, is that so? How touching—he found time to buy me a gift despite his busy schedule.”
Something about her tone felt… off.
Terry broke into a cold sweat. Does she know… about Miss Jones?
Without another word, he quickly left the office.
Candice looked at the jewelry with a look of disdain, as if it were something filthy.
She took out her phone, snapped a photo, and sent it to a luxury resale dealer:
Sell this for me. Donate the money to a children’s foundation for the mentally disabled.
The resale dealer: "…"
***
5:00 PM. Parking garage.
Candice had just reached her car and opened the door when her gaze unintentionally swept across to the opposite side—where another car was already running.
Through the window, she saw Kyle in the backseat.
And next to him, the short-haired girl was sitting close, radiating youthful energy and cuteness.
“President—!”
Terry shouted in panic and slammed on the brakes.
Through the glass and across the space between them, Candice and Kyle locked eyes.
Vanessa couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Why?”Everyone was dying to know — why did Denise want Miss Hale dead?Beatrice opened her mouth, ready to speak, but suddenly thought of something and swallowed the words back down. After taking a moment to steady her tone, she said, “It’s actually my fault. Back in Vanclyn, I ran into Denise. That wretch could talk and act like she was born for the stage — I couldn’t win against her. Luckily, Candice was with me at the time and helped me put that woman in her place. I suppose she’s been holding that grudge ever since.”She picked the smallest, least important reason to tell them.Earlier, anger had made her speak without thinking. But the two real reasons — even if they were only her own guesses — weren’t suitable to say aloud now, especially since her mother and sister-in-law didn’t know Candice well.The first reason was tha
"Thank you."She lowered her head and ate the food he’d put in her bowl, avoiding eye-contact.But even so, Charlie’s manner had already shocked Grandma Hawthorne and Vanessa.They weren’t blind—no boss treats a subordinate with that kind of care and intimacy. The two were obviously… *that* sort of relationship.So he hadn’t escaped the common male failing after all."Charlie is certainly good to his staff," Vanessa remarked, gaze flicking between them, smile laced with meaning. When her eyes landed on Candice they carried a faint disdain.Candice could read minds now: *Scheming bed-climbing sprite—thinks she can turn into a phoenix? Dream on.*She almost laughed.Just then Charlie’s lazy voice floated across the table: "Being good to one’s *girlfriend* is only natural."He added another piece of food to Candice's bowl as if it were the most ordinary thing.She looked up, helple
"Miss Hale, don't be nervous."Cody seemed to read her thoughts; he offered the reassurance then slowly withdrew his gaze. Six years older than Charlie, he was upright, handsome, mature—an utterly rational man who put clan interests first. His marriage to Phoebe had been pure business: a bridge between the Hawthorne and Harrison families. No talk of love; they had always been courteous strangers.Phoebe's accident left him regretful—but only that. His mind was already on damage-control and how to explain matters to the Harrison family.Candice understood and exhaled. *The cousin's still reasonable.*What seemed normal to her took on a different colour in Vanessa's eyes. Her son and husband were cut from the same patriarchal cloth—never bothering with trifles, never this gentle even to their wives. Yet here he was, considerate to a woman he'd just met?She studied Candice again. Beautiful—radiant whether glimpsed or scrutinis
Beatrice had just heard her son say that his future wife was sun-bathing by the sea; seconds later her own mother rang to say he’d arrived in Yan-cheng with *a woman*.For a moment she nearly had a cardiac arrest.Nicole, ears pricked wide, mentally scrolled: *Big brother brought a mistress on a business trip—he’s upgraded to scumbag…*“A… woman?” Beatrice croaked, as though the word were *ghost*.Her tone implied her son had been possessed and needed an exorcism.Realising her daughter knew nothing, Grandma Hawthorne snapped, “Some mother you are—your son brings a woman on a trip and you’re clueless.”Beatrice: “…I really didn’t.”She fired questions: “Have you seen her? Is she staying in the house? What’s her name?”“Haven’t met. Surname Candice, his secretary apparently.”&
Though the dust had long settled and the Clemens family was unquestionably top-tier, Grandma Hawthorne had still nursed a tiny regret.Vanclyn was far, her daughter’s new mother-in-law formidable, the son-in-law domineering. Had her girl married into the Lawrence family, James’s gentleness and Mrs. Lawrence’s kindness would have spared her every grievance—and she could visit home often.Who could have foreseen that within a few years James would cheat, bring back a calamity who stormed the ancestral halls and reduced the Lawrence house to a battlefield, ending in tragedy.After Rosie’s death James still shielded that scourge, insisted on making her official wife, enraging the Harrisons into cutting all ties.For tCandicety-plus years the calamity had worn the mantle of Lawrence family matron, sowing evil wherever she stepped. the Lawrence household became a ghost-cave; old Mrs. Lawrence could only wring her hands.Reca
The secretary who’d almost been mistaken for a princess slumming it at the Regalis estate was currently holed up in a colossal third-floor library.Book open, eyes vacant—she hadn’t absorbed a single word.Beside her, Sophia used her book as a sleep-mask.Rex, having delivered the volumes, had perched on a ladder to game.Only Jerry balanced a laptop on his knees—beast of burden on perpetual shift.“If you can’t concentrate, want some work to distract you?” he coaxed, tone identical to a granny-peddling quack tonic: *Work cures all—no more backache, no more heartache—come, join the grind—*Candice swallowed a laugh and closed her book. “Split it with me.”Jerry practically wept with gratitude, shoved both laptop and tablet at her, and collapsed on the sofa.She winced at his exhaustion. “Sorry, I dumped our shared workload on you.”He waved it off. “Special circumstances. Anyway, the President’s done more of *your* tasks than anyone.”Candice: “…” Drawing a salary while the boss do
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