I was pinching the small of my athletic younger brother’s back, trying to get a new sweater on him. His grunt coincided with my phone ringing. "It's too small, I can't get it on." "No way! I bought it according to your measurements." "It's stuck! Easy, ouch, ouch, ouch." "Okay, okay, I'm helping, aren't I?" I gave it a good tug and cooed, "There you go, sweetie. All better now, let your big sis see." "You sure?" Later, I heard that the boss took a mysterious call during a meeting, his face growing darker by the second. He didn’t say a word, just reamed out 28 department heads until they were teary-eyed. 1 My brother pointed at my phone. Only then did I realize I was on a call, the screen clearly displaying the name [Ethan Vance]. I picked up the phone, about to explain, but only heard the dial tone. He’d hung up. Not long after, a message came through: [If you’re recovered then get your ass back to work you’re not the CEO’s wife yet to be acting all high and mighty.] Two lines, no punctuation, which my brain automatically converted into his calm, cold tone. He must have heard me talking to my brother, full of energy, and figured I was recovered and just slacking off at home. Damn capitalist. I quickly replied: [Understood, Mr. Vance. I’ll be back tomorrow.] The "typing" indicator appeared on his end but nothing came through. He probably wanted to chew me out but held back. That mouth of his, never held back when he wanted to criticize someone. But I’d been with him for four years and this was my first time off, and it was sick leave. The next day, my colleague, Deb, saw me and immediately warned me to be careful. "He's been in a foul mood. Yelled at all the VPs until they cried in yesterday’s meeting." I timed it perfectly, made a cup of coffee, and knocked on his office door, bringing him the day's schedule to review. "Mr. Vance, good morning. Here’s today’s agenda. "Two regular meetings during the day, and a dinner with the Sterling Group tonight." He didn't touch the coffee. His long fingers rested casually on the desk, his voice icy. "Have the new girl, Isabelle, join me for dinner tonight. You don't need to go." "Wh— Alright, Mr. Vance. I’ll let her know to prepare." I swallowed my questions and quietly exited his office. He disliked subordinates questioning his decisions, and hated people prying even more. I smoothed over my irritation and walked over to Isabelle Reid. Upon hearing the news, Isabelle covered her mouth dramatically, her eyes glistening with tears. "Really, Sophia? I'm sorry, I'm just so excited…" Deb, never one to miss a chance to stir the pot, leaned in. "Isabelle, you’re really something. Only been filling in for a few days and you’re already aiming to take your mentor’s spot." "Not at all! I still have so much to learn from Sophia. But Mr. Vance is so sweet, isn't he?" Sweet? I turned my head and met Deb’s equally puzzled gaze. 2 I hired Isabelle a month ago, after my surgery date was confirmed. Although Deb offered to cover for me during my leave, I declined her kindness. I had my own plans. Four years ago, right after college, fate threw me at Ethan Vance’s side. Back then, he’d just left Vance Holdings to start his own company. In just four short years, he built it into an industry leader. I was by his side, benefiting from his success, but also living in his shadow. Now, everyone in the company respectfully called me Sophia, but only because I stood next to him. In reality, the doubts never ceased. Even in Ethan’s mind, I was just someone easily replaceable. Only by leaving him could I prove that I’d lasted this long by his side because of my own abilities. Besides, I’d heard when I first joined the company. He took one look at me and decided to hire me. All because I bore a resemblance to his old flame who lived abroad. I hadn’t quite believed it. Until the day Isabelle came for her interview. Ethan looked up, a flicker of recognition in his eyes, as if seeing an old acquaintance. Only then did I start to believe the rumors were true. Except this time, when people joked, they no longer mentioned that "one that got away." "Isabelle looks a bit like Sophia, doesn't she?" "Looks like Mr. Vance has a type." Late at night, staring at a photo on my phone, I gradually understood. Isabelle didn’t just look like me; she looked even more like his old flame. The photo on my phone was a picture of a palm-sized photograph. One day, about a year ago, the cleaner found a photo in the trash after tidying the office and brought it to me. "Ms. Bell, Mr. Vance threw this photo in the bin. I don’t know if he still wants it." "Give it to me, I'll ask him." I took the photo. Ethan had a boyish smile, looking about seventeen or eighteen. Next to him stood a girl, pretty, with a radiant smile. They stood together like a golden couple, exuding the same air of privilege, a perfect match. On a whim, I secretly took a picture of the photo with my phone. When I placed the original photo on Ethan’s desk to return it, he glanced at it. His outstretched hand paused mid-air, then retracted. "I threw it out." "She got married." I silently cursed myself for being nosy. "Then I’ll shred it before throwing it away, just to be safe." "Forget it, give it to me." My fingers had just touched the photo when his hand landed almost simultaneously on top of mine, covering the back of my hand. The moment he looked up, I pulled my hand back, my throat tight. "Okay, Mr. Vance." The electric warmth that had coursed through me replayed in my mind. Ethan had surely forgotten it long ago. 3 After briefing Isabelle on the dinner etiquette and procedures, Deb pulled me aside. "The days you were out, she was wearing low-cut dresses with slits practically up to her navel." "You hold back a little. Don’t tell her everything." I appreciated her concern and chuckled. "Mr. Vance didn’t scold her, so he must like it." "Besides, I don't plan on sticking with Ethan Vance forever." I turned to make coffee. The spoon stirred my thoughts, which gradually settled. Before leaving work, I placed a bottle of milk on Ethan’s desk, as usual. He had his legs lazily propped on the edge of the desk, his silhouette long and lean. "Mr. Vance, I've briefed Isabelle on all matters related to tonight's dinner." "Remember to drink the milk before you have any alcohol." He glanced sideways. Looked at the milk bottle, then his gaze landed on my face. "You've lost weight." Then, his tone shifted. "Am I not paying you enough?" "Huh?" I was slightly taken aback, then immediately understood. It had only been an afternoon, and what I’d let slip to Deb had already reached his ears. A bit fast, but not unexpected. I said seriously, "Mr. Vance, I was originally planning to tender my resignation once Isabelle was fully up to speed." "Thank you for your guidance these past few years…" "What are they offering?" He frowned slightly, as if discussing a difficult business deal. As if I were an item in a shop window. Anyone could buy me, as long as the price was high enough. I shook my head firmly but gently. "It's not about the money." "Then what is it? Because I asked Isabelle to accompany me to dinner, or because you haven't rested enough from your illness?" "If something is making you unhappy or uncomfortable, you can tell me." His tone actually had a hint of coaxing. The golden evening sun slanted in, a ray landing right on his Adam’s apple as it bobbed. His chiseled face was in shadow, as beautiful as a sculpture. Seeing I wasn't speaking, he reached up, loosened his tie, and undid two shirt buttons, revealing a sliver of skin on his chest. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. 4 In that instant, an air of desire seemed to bloom in the room. I looked away. In front of employees, he was always impeccably dressed, never giving anyone reason for inappropriate thoughts. Could it be… Isabelle’s flirting had opened up a new world for him? His voice pulled me back to reality. "If it's because of Isabelle, I can understand. If you mind…" "No, it's not that," I quickly explained. "Isabelle is very smart, a very suitable replacement for me." He adjusted his cuffs, stood up, and undid another shirt button. A hint of lean, firm pectoral muscle was visible. His broad shoulders tapered sharply to a narrow waist, enough to make one blush. I fanned myself with my hand. "Spring weather is so strange. It was so cold yesterday, and so hot today." "My matter isn't urgent. I'll talk to you in detail later." "Mr. Vance, you should get ready to leave." "I've already told the driver; if you drink too much tonight, he'll take you directly back to the Vance estate." He looked at me, his tone cool, his eyes holding a predatory glint. "Don't worry. If I drink too much, Isabelle can take care of me." "She can take me back to my place, where I live alone." "Of course, she could stay the night, if I wanted." "After all, I'm pretty big—"
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