Semua Bab My Husband Wants An Open Marriage, Now I'm Dating His Boss: Bab 91 - Bab 100

Harvey's Pov My jaw dropped, my hands flying up to cover my mouth. "Wait... what?!" I gasped out, my voice squeaking. "Gigi, are you serious?! You actually got a job?!" "Yes! I got a job!" Gigi squealed, her face lighting up with a brilliance that rivaled the brightest sun. She squeezed my hands so tightly her knuckles turned white, bouncing on the balls of her feet like a toddler. "Oh my gosh, Gigi!" I threw my arms around her neck, pulling her into a fierce hug. The lingering coldness from her damp hair didn't bother me in the slightest. I squeezed her until my arms throbbed, a tear of overwhelming relief slipping past my lashes. When we finally pulled back, Gigi wiped a tiny tear from the corner of her eye, though her massive, radiant grin never faded for a second. "I signed the offer letter right before I came to meet you at the park! It's a senior administrative position at a top creative logistics agency. The pay is ridiculously good, Harvey! Which means..." She nudged my

Gigi's Pov “It's you?!” Goldie's hazel coloured eyes were wide with shock as he stood up from his chair immediately, pointing a slender finger at me. “How… How are you here?!” I asked, shifting back like two steps, “Did you follow me here? But that's not possible, if you're not working here, there's no way the security will let you stay in this office and sit down on the boss’s seat.” I fired quickly, my mouth running like tap water. Goldie crossed his arms, the corner of his lips pulling into a smirk. He straightened his back and chuckled, the voice carrying itself into my ear and for a moment, I stilled. “You were acting smart back then, you didn't know that we'd meet again, did you?” He walked away from where he sat and started coming towards me. “W… Where are you coming to? S… Stay back!” I stammered, shifting again. However, if I went back a few steps, he did the same, cornering me until he trapped me between the walls and his body. “In case your tiny little brain has

Harvey's Pov Today was D-Day. For the past two weeks, the upcoming runway project had consumed every waking hour of my life, and there had barely been a moment when I could sit down without somebody calling my name, asking for an opinion, requesting an adjustment, or telling me that something had gone wrong somewhere. Earl had been just as busy, sometimes worse, because there were meetings he had to attend, sponsors to deal with, last-minute arrangements to approve, and a hundred other things that had nothing to do with fashion but somehow still landed on his desk. Amanda and the other girls had practically lived at the venue during rehearsals, fittings, and preparations, while the designers, makeup artists, stylists, stage crew, and security teams had worked until exhaustion became normal. There had been nights when I returned home so late that I barely remembered taking off my shoes before falling into bed, and there had been mornings when I woke up wondering why I had ever

Harvey's Pov Something about the way she emphasized those words made my stomach immediately tighten. “I said no,” I replied, watching her carefully. “You can tell whoever sent you that I will meet them after the runway, and I will give them all the time they want then. Until this collection has gone out and every model is safely back here, I'm not leaving this spot, so please don't ask me again.” The woman's smile slowly faded, and for a second, something strange flashed across her eyes before she lowered her head and nodded. “Of course, Miss Harvey,” she murmured before turning away. “I'll relay your words. Thank you for your time.” I watched her walk off, my eyes narrowing slightly when I heard her mutter something under her breath that I couldn't quite make out. I scoffed quietly and turned back toward the clothes, deciding that whatever attitude she had could wait until after the show. There was no point wasting my energy on someone who clearly hadn't gotten the answer sh

Harvey's Pov Earl and I looked over to where the voice was coming from and sure enough, it was from our side where our dresses were. Earl and I glanced at each other before rushing over. Around three people were standing right in front of our dresses, pointing. Other people were also trooping in as well. “Almosg everyone's dresses were slashed, why is this place different?!” “Could they have been the one who destroyed the dresses?!” “What are you saying?” I asked, my voice cold as I interrupted the people speaking. They all gazed back at me, blinking. “Are you the owner of these dresses?” One of them asked, crossing her arm. “Yes. This part belongs to Atelier Haus.” The moment the name left my mouth, the expression on several faces changed. Atelier Haus wasn't some unknown little company that had wandered into the competition hoping to make a name for itself, and everyone in that room knew it. The company had spent years building its reputation, and the collection standing behi