The call came in the dead of night. My patron, asking me to deliver a box of ultra-thins. Staring at my rain-soaked clothes, the man’s voice was a low rasp. “Fuck,” he said. “Who told you to be so damn good?” I held the bag out to Pierce Knight, who was leaning against the doorframe. “The 0.01s you asked for.” When he took it, he deliberately brushed his calloused thumb over my knuckles, a predatory smile in his eyes. “She’s not here yet. Why don’t we break them in?” I froze for a second before he let out a low chuckle. “I’m kidding.” “I’ve set up a blind date for you next Wednesday. You’ve been with me for years, and I don’t want you to get the short end of the stick.” “You’ll go, won’t you?” 1 His tone was a question, but his eyes held a lazy, non-negotiable weight. This wasn't about him not wanting me to get the short end of the stick. This was about his old flame coming back to the country. He wanted me gone, neatly disposed of, before she found out we ever existed. My fingers, already curled against my palm, tightened into a fist. I forced myself to look up, my voice carefully steady. “Just send me the address.” He caught the shift, the formal chill in my tone. His brow twitched, just for a second. Rainwater dripped from the ends of my hair onto my collarbone, and I shivered from the cold. “It’s late,” I stammered. “I should get going.” “Wait.” Pierce disappeared into the living room and returned with a Burberry shawl. He wrapped it snugly around me, leaving only my eyes, still damp with rain, visible. Flustered, I looked up to thank him and was caught in the sudden intensity of his gaze. His fingers were still resting on the collar of the shawl. His throat bobbed. “Don’t go tonight,” he said suddenly. I blinked, my response automatic. “But… isn’t someone else coming?” He cut me off before I could finish, his knuckles pressing against the top of my head, a raw, impatient edge to his voice. “You actually fucking believed that?” “In your mind, am I just some degenerate who sleeps around?” “In all these years, who’s been by my side but you?” Later, tangled in the sheets, as I was lost in a haze of pleasure, he leaned in and whispered in my ear. “This is the last time for us.” “Claire is coming back.” “I don’t want her to suspect anything, so be a good girl and go on that date.” The truth, finally. I sank my teeth into his shoulder, a silent scream of fury. 2 Pierce’s stamina was nothing short of superhuman. The saying that a man is over the hill after twenty-five was a complete lie when it came to him. The morning mist peeking through the curtains had turned a pale white before he finally ended his campaign and headed for the shower. As the water started running, I gathered my clothes from the floor and slipped into the guest bedroom. It was our unspoken rule. Pierce was a light sleeper and hated having anyone in his bed. So for five years, no matter how exhausted he left me, I would always use my last ounce of strength to drag myself to the guest room. The next day, I woke up well after nine. As I rushed downstairs after getting ready, I ran right into Pierce, fresh from his workout. He was wearing a white tank top that clung to the powerful, sleek lines of his shoulders and back. “I had Mrs. Gable save you some breakfast.” I waved my hands frantically. “I’m going to be late for work. I have to catch the subway.” Pierce raised an eyebrow. “I can just drive you, can’t I?” I was at the door, pulling on my shoes, the word tumbling out before I could stop it. “No.” “The results of my promotion are coming out today. If my colleagues see me getting out of the boss’s car, I’ll never be able to explain it.” Pierce’s hand, which had been twisting the cap off a water bottle, stilled. The air went silent for a beat. Then, he let out a short, dismissive laugh. “Suit yourself.” Just as I was leaving, he called my name and handed me a business card. “Your blind date for next week.” A buzzing filled my ears, yanking me back to reality. One night of passion, and I had almost forgotten. The whole reason I had agreed to bring him the damn condoms was to finally end our five-year-long, sordid affair. Afraid he’d think I was going to cling to him, I took the card. The sharp plastic corner dug into the soft flesh of my palm. My nose stung. “I’ll go,” I mumbled, my voice low. 3 For years, I had spent every weekend at Pierce’s house. At first, I used to lug huge bags filled with changes of clothes and countless bottles of skincare products. He found it a hassle and eventually had a vanity built for me, just to store my things. This time, as I left, I packed it all up. Everything. Including the pink slippers I always wore, and the silk nightgown in the closet. As I did this, Pierce just leaned against the doorframe and watched me, his expression unreadable, a murky swirl of emotions in his eyes. Not until I had cleared everything out and said my goodbyes did he speak. “From now on, we’re just colleagues.” He saw through my anxiety and let out a short, derisive laugh. “Relax. I’m not going to sabotage your career.” 4 I ran all the way to the office, barely making it to my desk before ten. My colleague, Becca, treated me to a rare coffee. “Stella, congratulations in advance! When you’re the department director, don’t forget your old comrades.” I smiled shyly. “The results aren’t out yet.” She scoffed. “Don’t be so modest. Of all the candidates, you’ve been here the longest and have the most successful projects under your belt.” “Besides, everyone’s seen how you’ve bled for this company over the years.” “You becoming director is what everyone wants.” I dropped the pretense and smiled at the rest of the team. “If I get it, I’m treating everyone to the most expensive sushi in the city!” Cheers erupted in the office. With three minutes to go, I refreshed my email countless times. I was so nervous I ran to the bathroom three times. Finally, I clicked open the new email. A line of bold, black text leaped out. 「We regret to inform you that your application for promotion has been unsuccessful…」 My mind went completely blank. My team members crowded around, and as they saw the result on my screen, the cheerful office fell deathly silent. The silence was broken by the Head of HR, who walked in with a smile, a woman trailing behind her. “Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to Claire. She has a master’s from abroad and has been personally appointed by Mr. Knight as the new Director of the Creative Department.” I looked up, and my breath caught in my throat. The woman was dressed in a sharp, tailored white suit, her long hair loosely tied back, revealing a slender, pale neck. She was the spitting image of the girl in the photo I had once seen tucked away in Pierce’s wallet. 5 It felt like coming down with a severe flu. My head was stuffed, my mind a complete blank. I was moving on autopilot, a heavy force pushing me forward. The walk to Pierce’s office wasn't long, but I had to keep wiping away tears with the back of my hand. People were staring, but I was past caring about the embarrassment. I knocked. Pierce’s usual cool voice came from within. “Come in.” I stood there, my eyes red. The moment I spoke, the tears started falling again. “Why?” He didn’t even look up, his finger still tracing a line on a document. “Why what?” My voice rose, thick with an uncontrollable sense of betrayal. “There are so many other positions in the company. Why did you have to give Claire the one I was supposed to be promoted to?” Only then did Pierce look up from his papers, his tone as flat as if he were discussing the weather. “She wanted to be in the Creative Department.” “Just because she wanted to, you can just throw away five years of my hard work?” He knew. He knew that to get this promotion, I had taken the overseas assignment in Africa that no one else wanted. He knew I had caught malaria there and almost didn’t make it back. Pierce stood up and walked over to me, looking down at me from his towering height, his eyes cold and empty of any warmth. “Stella, this is reality.” “Because I’m in this position, I get to decide everything.” My voice trembled. “All I wanted was a fair chance. Is that so hard?” He let out a low laugh, as if I’d said something hilarious. “Fair?” “You want to talk to me about fairness?” “Stella, get one thing straight,” he said, leaning in, his breath a cold whisper against my face. “If you hadn’t slept with me…” “With your degree from a second-rate state school, you wouldn’t have even made it past the initial resume screening at this company.” “Why don’t you go ask all those Ivy League graduates who interviewed with you back then if they think that was fair?” “You didn’t seem to mind the perks of power then, so don’t come crying to me about fairness now.” His words were like a series of sharp slaps across my face, leaving my cheeks burning, my every breath a painful sting. And in that moment, I understood. Even though I had worked my ass off for five years, trying to prove myself, never once thinking of using my relationship with him to get ahead… I couldn't change the fact that I had only gotten my foot in the door because of him. I had no right to talk about fairness. So, I decided to quit.
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