Chapter One
The body lay in perfect repose on the Victorian fainting couch, looking more like a sleeping beauty than a victim. Detective Sarah Chen had seen enough death in her ten years with the Metropolitan Police's Special Cases Unit to know that natural death never looked this peaceful. Something was very, very wrong.
'No signs of struggle, no marks on the body, and yet...' She leaned closer, studying the victim's face. Charlotte Mills, aged 28, was found by her roommate this morning, apparently having passed away in her sleep. Her expression was serene, almost blissful, but her eyes - those were what caught Sarah's attention. Behind the closed lids, her eyes were moving rapidly, as if still deep in REM sleep.
"You see it too, don't you?" The voice came from behind her, rich and cultured with a slight Irish lilt. "She's still dreaming."
Sarah turned to find a tall man in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit standing in the doorway. He hadn't been there a moment ago, she was certain of it. His dark hair was streaked with silver at the temples, and his eyes were an unusual shade of amber that seemed to shift color in the light.
"This is a closed crime scene," she said firmly, her hand instinctively moving toward her weapon. "How did you get in here?"
He smiled, but it didn't reach those strange eyes. "Dr. Marcus Thorne," he said, pulling out a card that somehow both looked official and seemed to shimmer slightly. "I'm a consulting specialist with the Department's new Oneiric Phenomena Division."
"The what division?" Sarah frowned, taking the card. The moment her fingers touched it, she felt a slight electric tingle, and the letters seemed to rearrange themselves before her eyes.
"Dreams, Detective Chen. We investigate crimes involving dreams." He moved into the room with fluid grace, his attention fixed on the victim. "And this is the third one this month."
Sarah's mind raced. There had been two other deaths recently - both young women, both found peacefully dead in their sleep. She'd seen the reports but hadn't made the connection until now. "How do you know about those cases?"
"Because I've been tracking the killer for quite some time." Thorne knelt beside the body, his eyes now definitely more gold than amber. "He's what we call a Dream Collector - someone who has learned to enter and steal dreams. But this one has developed a taste for more than just dreams. He's taking souls."
Under normal circumstances, Sarah would have dismissed such talk as nonsense. But there was something about the scene, about the victim's still-moving eyes, about Thorne himself, that made the impossible seem suddenly plausible.
"If you're tracking him," she said carefully, "why haven't you caught him?"
Thorne's expression darkened. "Because he only appears in dreams. The physical world is my domain, but his... his is the realm of sleep. To catch him, we need someone who can walk between both worlds." He turned those unsettling eyes on her. "Someone like you."
"Me?" Sarah almost laughed, but the sound died in her throat as memories she'd long suppressed began to surface. The dreams that felt too real, the nights she'd awakened to find objects moved in her room, the way she sometimes knew things she couldn't possibly know...
"You've always known you were different, haven't you, Detective?" Thorne's voice was gentle now. "The dreams that come true, the hunches that turn out to be right, the way you can sometimes see how people died just by touching objects they owned..."
Sarah took an involuntary step back. "How do you know about that?"
"Because I've been looking for someone like you. A Natural - someone born with the ability to cross the threshold between waking and dreaming." He gestured to the victim. "Charlotte here won't be his last. There will be others, and their souls will remain trapped in an eternal dream unless we stop him."
Just then, the victim's hand twitched, her fingers moving as if writing something. Sarah moved closer, watching as invisible words were traced in the air. Thorne pulled out what looked like an antique monocle and held it up. Through its lens, golden letters shimmered in the air where Charlotte's fingers moved.
"Help me," Thorne read aloud. "He's coming for the others."
Sarah felt a chill run down her spine. She looked at the victim's peaceful face, at those restlessly moving eyes, and made a decision that would change her life forever.
"Tell me what I need to do."
Thorne's smile was grim. "First, you need to learn to control your abilities. Then..." he held up the monocle, through which Sarah could now see strange symbols glowing all around the room, "you need to learn to hunt in dreams."
Outside the Victorian townhouse, storm clouds gathered, and Sarah Chen, homicide detective and newly discovered dream walker, took her first step into a world where nightmares were real, and death was just another kind of sleep.
Chapter Two
The basement of the Natural History Museum was the last place Sarah expected to find the headquarters of a secret dream investigation unit. Yet here she was, following Thorne through a maze of storage rooms filled with artifacts that seemed to pulse with their own inner light.
"The mundane world only sees what it expects to see," Thorne explained, using an ornate key to unlock a heavy wooden door marked 'Private Collection.' "To them, this is just museum storage. To us, it's the largest collection of dream artifacts in the Western Hemisphere."
The room beyond defied physics. It stretched impossibly far, filled with glass cases containing everything from ancient masks to modern-looking devices. Floating orbs of soft light illuminated collections of bottled dreams - actual dreams, swirling like liquid mercury behind glass.
"Your badge, Detective," Thorne held out his hand. Sarah hesitated before handing over her police credentials. He placed it on a strange device that looked like a Victorian music box crossed with a computer. When he returned the badge, it felt different - heavier, somehow more real.
"Now you'll be able to access both worlds officially," he said. "Look at it again."
The badge had changed. Alongside her regular police credentials, new text had appeared: 'Special Inspector, Oneiric Investigations Division.' The letters seemed to shift between English and something older, something that made her eyes water if she looked too long.
"Before we can hunt the Dream Collector, you need to understand what you're dealing with." Thorne led her to a case containing what looked like a normal pillow. "Touch it."
Sarah reached out hesitantly. The moment her fingers made contact, the world tilted. She was suddenly standing in someone else's dream - a sunny beach, but the sky was green and the sand whispered secrets. She jerked her hand back, gasping.
"Good," Thorne nodded approvingly. "Most people can't pull back from their first dream artifact. You have natural barriers."
"What was that?" Sarah's heart was racing.
"A dream fragment from 1892. A young girl's last dream before the influenza took her." His voice softened. "We preserve them here. Dreams carry memories, emotions, sometimes even pieces of souls."
"And this Dream Collector... he takes entire souls?" Sarah remembered Charlotte Mills' peaceful face and restless eyes.
"He traps them in eternal dreams, feeding off their essence." Thorne moved to another case, this one containing what looked like a cracked mirror. "Each victim becomes part of his collection, their souls powering his abilities, letting him dreamwalk without natural talent like yours."
Suddenly, the cracked mirror began to frost over. In its surface, Sarah saw Charlotte Mills' face, mouth open in a silent scream. Then another face appeared - another victim, she presumed - and another.
"He's showing off," Thorne growled. "He knows we're investigating."
The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Frost patterns spread from the mirror to nearby cases, and Sarah heard what sounded like distant laughter.
"Well, well," a voice echoed through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. "A new player in the game. And such interesting dreams you have, Detective Chen."
Sarah felt something brush against her mind, like cold fingers trying to pry open a door. Instinctively, she slammed her mental barriers shut. The presence withdrew, but not before leaving behind an impression of amusement.
"He's already caught your scent," Thorne said grimly. He pulled out a small velvet bag and removed what looked like a dreamcatcher made of silver wire and black pearls. "Wear this when you sleep. It won't keep him out entirely, but it'll stop him from stealing your dreams while you're still learning to defend yourself."
As Sarah took the dreamcatcher, her fingers brushed Thorne's, and suddenly she was hit with a flash of his dreams - centuries of memories, battles fought in realms of sleep, and a profound sense of loss that made her gasp.
Thorne withdrew his hand quickly. "Your abilities are stronger than I thought. We'll need to work on your control."
"What are you?" Sarah asked directly. "You're not just some government consultant, are you?"
Before he could answer, an alarm began to sound throughout the facility. One of the dream bottles had turned black, its contents writhing like smoke.
"He's hunting again," Thorne said, already moving toward the exit. "Someone in the city has just entered their last dream. Are you ready for your first real case, Detective?"
Sarah touched her new badge, feeling its power hum under her fingers. "Do we have time to save them?"
"If we're lucky, we might catch him in the act. But remember - in dreams, he's incredibly powerful. One wrong move and you could lose your soul."
As they rushed from the dream archive, Sarah caught one last glimpse of the cracked mirror. In its surface, she saw her own reflection smile back at her with eyes that weren't quite her own.
The hunt was about to begin.
Chapter Two
The basement of the Natural History Museum was the last place Sarah expected to find the headquarters of a secret dream investigation unit. Yet here she was, following Thorne through a maze of storage rooms filled with artifacts that seemed to pulse with their own inner light.
"The mundane world only sees what it expects to see," Thorne explained, using an ornate key to unlock a heavy wooden door marked 'Private Collection.' "To them, this is just museum storage. To us, it's the largest collection of dream artifacts in the Western Hemisphere."
The room beyond defied physics. It stretched impossibly far, filled with glass cases containing everything from ancient masks to modern-looking devices. Floating orbs of soft light illuminated collections of bottled dreams - actual dreams, swirling like liquid mercury behind glass.
"Your badge, Detective," Thorne held out his hand. Sarah hesitated before handing over her police credentials. He placed it on a strange device that looked like a Victorian music box crossed with a computer. When he returned the badge, it felt different - heavier, somehow more real.
"Now you'll be able to access both worlds officially," he said. "Look at it again."
The badge had changed. Alongside her regular police credentials, new text had appeared: 'Special Inspector, Oneiric Investigations Division.' The letters seemed to shift between English and something older, something that made her eyes water if she looked too long.
"Before we can hunt the Dream Collector, you need to understand what you're dealing with." Thorne led her to a case containing what looked like a normal pillow. "Touch it."
Sarah reached out hesitantly. The moment her fingers made contact, the world tilted. She was suddenly standing in someone else's dream - a sunny beach, but the sky was green and the sand whispered secrets. She jerked her hand back, gasping.
"Good," Thorne nodded approvingly. "Most people can't pull back from their first dream artifact. You have natural barriers."
"What was that?" Sarah's heart was racing.
"A dream fragment from 1892. A young girl's last dream before the influenza took her." His voice softened. "We preserve them here. Dreams carry memories, emotions, sometimes even pieces of souls."
"And this Dream Collector... he takes entire souls?" Sarah remembered Charlotte Mills' peaceful face and restless eyes.
"He traps them in eternal dreams, feeding off their essence." Thorne moved to another case, this one containing what looked like a cracked mirror. "Each victim becomes part of his collection, their souls powering his abilities, letting him dreamwalk without natural talent like yours."
Suddenly, the cracked mirror began to frost over. In its surface, Sarah saw Charlotte Mills' face, mouth open in a silent scream. Then another face appeared - another victim, she presumed - and another.
"He's showing off," Thorne growled. "He knows we're investigating."
The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Frost patterns spread from the mirror to nearby cases, and Sarah heard what sounded like distant laughter.
"Well, well," a voice echoed through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. "A new player in the game. And such interesting dreams you have, Detective Chen."
Sarah felt something brush against her mind, like cold fingers trying to pry open a door. Instinctively, she slammed her mental barriers shut. The presence withdrew, but not before leaving behind an impression of amusement.
"He's already caught your scent," Thorne said grimly. He pulled out a small velvet bag and removed what looked like a dreamcatcher made of silver wire and black pearls. "Wear this when you sleep. It won't keep him out entirely, but it'll stop him from stealing your dreams while you're still learning to defend yourself."
As Sarah took the dreamcatcher, her fingers brushed Thorne's, and suddenly she was hit with a flash of his dreams - centuries of memories, battles fought in realms of sleep, and a profound sense of loss that made her gasp.
Thorne withdrew his hand quickly. "Your abilities are stronger than I thought. We'll need to work on your control."
"What are you?" Sarah asked directly. "You're not just some government consultant, are you?"
Before he could answer, an alarm began to sound throughout the facility. One of the dream bottles had turned black, its contents writhing like smoke.
"He's hunting again," Thorne said, already moving toward the exit. "Someone in the city has just entered their last dream. Are you ready for your first real case, Detective?"
Sarah touched her new badge, feeling its power hum under her fingers. "Do we have time to save them?"
"If we're lucky, we might catch him in the act. But remember - in dreams, he's incredibly powerful. One wrong move and you could lose your soul."
As they rushed from the dream archive, Sarah caught one last glimpse of the cracked mirror. In its surface, she saw her own reflection smile back at her with eyes that weren't quite her own.
The hunt was about to begin.
Chapter Three
They arrived at St. Bartholomew's Hospital just as the emergency lights began to flash. Sarah followed Thorne through corridors that seemed to blur at the edges of her vision, her new badge somehow clearing their path without ever being shown.
"Room 307," Thorne said, his voice tight with urgency. "Young male, admitted for minor surgery, slipped into an unusual coma during recovery."
The patient, David Parker, age 23, lay perfectly still on his hospital bed, his eyes moving rapidly beneath closed lids. Just like Charlotte Mills. But this time, something was different - the air around him rippled like heat waves over hot asphalt.
"He's still in the process of taking him," Thorne said, pulling out what looked like an antique pocket watch. "We can follow if we're quick. Are you ready for your first dream dive?"
Sarah's heart pounded. "What do I need to do?"
"Take my hand. Focus on the patient. Let your consciousness slip between the moments of reality." Thorne's eyes began to glow that strange amber color. "And whatever you see in there, remember - dream logic is real logic in that world."
Sarah grasped Thorne's hand and looked at David Parker. The world tilted, twisted, and suddenly...
They were standing in a hospital corridor that wasn't quite right. The walls breathed slowly, the floor was made of flowing water that somehow supported their weight, and the ceiling was a swirling mass of constellation maps.
"His dreamscape," Thorne explained, his voice echoing strangely. "Every dreamer creates their own reality. Look."
Down the impossible corridor, a figure in a doctor's coat was leading David Parker by the hand. But the 'doctor' was wrong - his shadow moved independently, reaching out with grasping tendrils towards other dreams that floated past like soap bubbles.
"The Dream Collector," Sarah whispered.
As if hearing his name, the figure turned. Sarah's breath caught. His face was a beautiful mask of shifting features, never settling on one form, but his eyes... his eyes were endless pits of swirling dreams.
"Ah, the new dreamer," his voice was like silk over broken glass. "And my old friend Marcus. Still trying to police the dream worlds?"
Thorne stepped forward, and Sarah noticed his appearance had changed in the dream. His suit was now made of living shadows, and wings of dark light stretched from his shoulders. "Let him go, Collector. You've taken enough souls."
The Collector laughed, the sound causing the hospital walls to crack, leaking golden dream-light. "Taken? Oh, Marcus, you still don't understand. They give themselves to me. Show her, David."
The young man turned, and Sarah saw his eyes were glassy with bliss. "It's beautiful here," he said dreamily. "All my pain is gone. All my fears. He takes them all away."
"By taking everything you are," Sarah found herself saying. She took a step forward, instinctively reaching for her police badge. In the dream, it transformed into a shield of pure light. "David, this isn't real healing. It's theft."
The Collector's face rippled with anger. "You dare interrupt my collection?" The corridor began to twist, reality bending around them. "Let me show you what happens to those who interfere with my work."
Suddenly, the floor beneath Sarah liquefied completely. She started to sink, but instead of water, she was drowning in dreams - thousands of them, each containing a fragment of someone's stolen soul. She saw Charlotte Mills dancing endlessly in a ballroom of mirrors, saw other victims trapped in perfect moments that had become eternal prisons.
"Sarah!" Thorne's voice cut through the chaos. "Remember - dream logic! Make your own rules!"
Dream logic. Sarah closed her eyes, focusing on her years of police work, of protecting people, of solving puzzles. When she opened them, her badge-shield had transformed into a sword of pure thought.
With a cry, she slashed through the dream-flood. Reality reasserted itself - or at least, this dream's version of reality. She stood on solid ground again, facing the Collector.
"Impressive," he purred, but she sensed uncertainty in his voice. "You're stronger than the usual dreamers Marcus recruits. Perhaps we could make a deal..."
"No deals," Sarah said firmly. She could feel her power growing, reshaping the dream around them. "David, look at what he really is. Look with your heart, not your fears."
For a moment, David's eyes cleared. The Collector's beautiful mask slipped, revealing something ancient and hungry beneath. David screamed, pulling away from the creature's grasp.
The Collector snarled, his form shifting into something monstrous. "If I can't have him willingly..." Shadows exploded from his body, reaching for David.
What happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion. Thorne spread his dark wings, shielding David. Sarah's sword of thought became a net of light, trapping some of the shadows. But the Collector himself simply... stepped sideways, vanishing into a door that appeared in the air.
"Sweet dreams, detectives," his voice lingered behind. "We'll meet again soon. After all, Sarah, your dreams are particularly... appetizing."
The dreamscape began to dissolve. Sarah felt Thorne grab her arm, pulling her back through layers of reality. Then...
They were standing in the hospital room again. David Parker was awake, gasping, but alive and whole. A nurse was rushing in, responding to his sudden revival.
"We saved one," Thorne said quietly. "But he'll be angry now. And he'll come for you."
Sarah touched her badge, still feeling echoes of its dream-power. "Good," she said grimly. "Because I have some questions for him about Charlotte Mills. And about what you really are, Marcus Thorne."
Thorne's expression was unreadable. "All in time, Detective. For now, you need to rest. Tomorrow, your real training begins."
As they left the hospital, Sarah could have sworn she saw her shadow move independently, reaching for dreams that floated just beyond the edge of sight. The world would never look quite the same again.
Chapter Four
Sarah's apartment looked different when she returned that night. The shadows seemed deeper, more alive, and ordinary objects cast reflections that didn't quite match reality. The dreamcatcher Thorne had given her pulsed softly in her pocket, responding to the changed way she now saw the world.
She was exhausted but afraid to sleep. The Collector's words echoed in her mind: 'Your dreams are particularly appetizing.' Instead, she spread her case files across the coffee table - photographs of Charlotte Mills, the other victims, and now David Parker's medical records.
A soft chime from her badge interrupted her concentration. The metal had grown warm, and when she touched it, words appeared in that strange shifting script: 'Archive. Now. Emergency.'
The museum was different at night. Sarah's new badge led her through doors that hadn't existed during her first visit, down stairs that seemed to descend far deeper than the building's foundation should allow. She found Thorne in a circular room she hadn't seen before, surrounded by floating screens of light that showed various dreamscapes.
"We have a problem," he said without preamble. "The Collector's attack pattern has changed. Look."
The screens shifted, showing a map of the city overlaid with points of light. "Each light is a dreamer," Thorne explained. "The blue ones are normal dreams. The red..." He gestured, and several dots pulsed an angry crimson. "Those are nightmares being actively shaped by outside forces."
"He's attacking multiple targets at once?"
"No." Thorne's expression was grim. "He's leaving traps. Dream-snares. Anyone who falls asleep in these areas risks being pulled into a constructed nightmare. He's trying to overwhelm our ability to respond."
Sarah studied the pattern of red dots. "They're forming a shape... a symbol?"
"A summoning circle." A new voice joined them. Sarah turned to see an elderly woman emerging from what appeared to be a door made of starlight. Her eyes were milk-white, but she moved with absolute certainty.
"Sarah, meet Dr. Eleanor Price, the Archive's keeper," Thorne said. "And yes, she's blind in the waking world, but in dreams..."
"I see everything," Eleanor finished. Her unseeing eyes fixed on Sarah with uncomfortable accuracy. "Including what our friend the Collector is truly planning. He's not just taking souls anymore. He's building toward something larger."
She gestured, and the room transformed around them. They were suddenly standing in what looked like a vast library, but the books were made of dreams, their pages flowing like liquid memory.
"Every dream ever archived is stored here," Eleanor explained. "Including the oldest nightmares of humanity. The Collector isn't just a thief - he's trying to wake something that should stay sleeping. Something we locked away centuries ago."
She pulled a book from the shelf, and its pages burst open, projecting a scene of ancient horror - a time when the boundary between dreams and reality was thinner, when nightmares could walk in daylight.
"The Last Nightmare," Thorne said softly. "We thought it was safely contained, but if he completes that summoning circle..."
A sudden tremor ran through the Archive. One of the red dots on the map had grown larger, pulsing violently.
"He's starting," Eleanor's voice was urgent. "Sarah, you need to see something before you face this." She pressed her fingers to Sarah's forehead, and suddenly...
She was in a memory. A younger Thorne stood with a woman who looked remarkably like Sarah herself, facing down a shadow that threatened to devour the world. The woman - another dream detective? - sacrificed herself to help seal away the nightmare.
"Your mother," Eleanor's voice echoed in her mind. "She was one of us. Her sacrifice helped lock away the Last Nightmare, but the Collector has never stopped trying to free it. And now he's found you - her daughter, with her power."
The vision ended abruptly as another tremor shook the Archive. More red dots were pulsing on the map.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Sarah demanded, turning to Thorne.
"Because I promised her I'd keep you away from this life," he replied, pain evident in his voice. "But now the Collector knows who you are, and we're running out of time."
"The summoning circle will be complete at the next new moon," Eleanor added. "Three days from now. If the Last Nightmare wakes..."
"Then we stop him before that happens," Sarah said firmly, though her mind was reeling from the revelations. "How do we break these dream-snares?"
"It's dangerous," Thorne warned. "Each one is a trap designed specifically for dream walkers. If you're caught..."
"Then you'll just have to watch my back," Sarah said. She touched her badge, feeling its power respond. "Where do we start?"
Eleanor smiled, her blind eyes somehow twinkling. "First, you need to understand what you truly inherited from your mother. It's time you learned about the true history of the dream walkers - and why the Collector fears your bloodline above all others."
As if in response to Eleanor's words, the books around them began to glow, their pages rustling with the weight of secrets about to be revealed. In the map above, the red dots pulsed like a countdown to catastrophe, and Sarah realized she had less than three days to master powers she never knew she had.
The true game was about to begin.
Chapter 1
In the lounge of the secretary's office, Dennis Wood held Zara tightly from behind, showering her neck with fiery kisses. It was an afternoon filled with passion and longing, a rare moment for them as Dennis embarked on a two-week business trip without his personal secretary by his side. Zara couldn't help but wonder if this absence meant that Dennis had grown tired of her presence.
Secretly, she was relieved.
Five years ago, when debt collectors knocked on her door and her grandmother fell seriously ill, Zara was in desperate need of a large sum of money. It was then that she coincidentally bumped into Dennis, who saw a striking resemblance between her and his lifelong crush, Mackenzie Phillips.
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Dennis helped Zara pay off her family's debts and provided the best medical care for her grandmother. During the day, Zara worked as Dennis's secretary, and at night, she became his substitute lover.
For five years, she played the role of Mackenzie, imitating her mannerisms and acting submissive and devoted to please Dennis. But she had grown tired of it all. She hoped that Dennis would move on to someone else soon.
To her surprise, when Dennis returned from his business trip, he seemed impatient to see her. He couldn't wait for her to finish work and hurried straight to the company.
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Dennis responded coldly and let go of her, heading straight to the bathroom.
Zara sighed with relief.
Despite her discomfort, she grabbed a spare suit from the lounge for Dennis and helped him change after he finished showering. As she tied his tie, she looked into his beautiful yet indifferent eyes.
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Zara was stunned, unable to comprehend the sudden generosity.
"President Wood, how come suddenly..." Zara began, but Dennis interrupted her with a contemptuous look in his eyes. He firmly gripped her chin and sneered, "Consider this a reward."
A reward? What had she done to deserve such lavish gifts?
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Confusion filled Zara's eyes. What did he mean by "the future"? Wasn't he planning to end things with her?
Zara nodded obediently, pretending to be the delicate and charming woman Dennis desired. But deep down, she was unsure of his intentions.
"Alright," Dennis replied coldly. "You don't have much to do this afternoon, go home and rest."
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As soon as Dennis left, Zara picked up the check and frowned tightly. She couldn't shake off the feeling that something was amiss. Dennis had been growing increasingly distant over the past six months, and she had even seen him with another woman who resembled Mackenzie even more.
"This shouldn't be..." Zara muttered.
Her phone vibrated on the bedside table, catching her attention. It was a financial news push notification.
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Pain stabbed through Zara's eyes as she read the news.
The president of Bane Corporation was none other than Dennis himself.
The room remained in disarray, with Zara's skirt and Dennis's suit scattered on the ground. She touched her temple, a mixture of emotions welling up inside her, and let out a helpless laugh.
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Nausea overwhelmed Zara, and she rushed to the bathroom, retching.
When she looked up at her reflection in the mirror, she saw a pale and disheveled woman staring back at her.
She had reached her breaking point with Dennis and his games. He was about to get married, yet he couldn't let go of his crush and insisted on keeping her as a substitute.
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Zara composed herself, estimated when Dennis's meeting would end, and prepared her resignation letter. With determination, she headed to the president's office.
As she stood outside the door, about to knock and enter, she overheard Dennis's friend, Russell Griffin, teasing him, "Dennis, you're getting married. What are you going to do with Secretary King?"
There was a brief silence before Dennis's cold voice replied, "Just as usual."
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"As long as there's enough money, she'll be willing to do anything," Dennis responded mockingly.
Zara stiffened, her heart aching sharply.
From the beginning, she had sold herself to Dennis. And now, she realized that she was nothing more than a commodity, someone who could amuse him as long as the price was right.
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"Really?" Russell's voice suddenly grew excited. "So tell me, if I offer you a higher price, would you sell her to me?"
Before they could continue, Dennis's assistant, Dylon Elms, called from outside the door, interrupting their conversation.
"Secretary King?"
Znarab sknbaépppedp baQck_ tco lrCea)lityS,O Ynoadpd*ed faPt DyilóoSn, TthweUn* kPnHoRckaed o*n tlhAe_ oFfnfiwce Vdo)orr paxnd wÉalnkOedU Ain.q
Russell, who had just been talking nonsense, was left speechless.
He tried to act as if nothing had happened, greeting Zara with a warm smile. But her recollection of his words filled her with disgust. She ignored him and approached Dennis, who wore a frigid expression.
"Didn't I tell you to go home and rest?" Dennis asked sharply, clearly unhappy.
"HPre_siSdGe^nDtb &Wood,)"O )ZaaVra r)eRpXlJied wiwtqhHout CheHr( IusuWadl gmentlRenieisÉsI. jShey (han.dLead .hSiCmV hXesrB rXePsig^nKatDiong liettBear kwViIth ,digVnitIyj. R"$This JisM mya FresizgnNationN.Z"v
A sudden chill swept over Dennis's face as he retorted, "What are you talking about?" Zara placed the letter down and continued, "When I started working for you, we made an agreement. I wouldn't be the other woman. If you were to get married, I would leave."
She took a deep breath before adding, "I'll wrap up my work as quickly as possible. You and President Griffin can carry on without me. I won't be a bother anymore."
With those words, Zara turned away and started walking. As she passed Russell, who looked utterly shocked, she paused.
U&nAa(bmled Éto bGeKaZrr Ytvhet pzrÉeztenseK anyv lKoUngteIrd,É she_ lbookedx FaXt R_u)svsselln witmh eZyFesP as coSlDdm asN ice aYnd Ya&nsMwZerledF hhis ppreCviSouqsH MquesCtdikonU.
"I'm not selling myself."
Chapter 2
As Russell regained his composure, he was shocked to find that Zara had already left. He turned to Dennis in disbelief and exclaimed, "Was that your graceful Secretary King whom I just saw?"
Dennis's expression grew somber, a flicker of panic and bewilderment in his eyes, unbeknownst even to himself. He remembered his prior arrangement with Zara, but he couldn't comprehend why she would abandon him just because he was getting married.
Throughout the years, she had always been compliant, fulfilling any despicable demands he made...
How co.uld NshJea Ade,fy chicmM?!
How dare she defy him!
Ignoring Russell's chattering, Dennis rose with a menacing aura and strode off to pursue Zara.
Zara didn't like to drag things out. After handing in her resignation, she planned to proceed with the handover immediately.
But jurstV aXs^ 's.heX bre$turwned tVoé the sspecrheétary's ,ovf.fzicOe, HDNennis *fGollZoAwed Ti,n., radiMaptFiNnBgl ccoaldnresxsp.
"Does President Wood have any other instructions?" Zara looked at him, her customary docility completely gone.
Dennis's countenance grew even more shadowed, anger and confusion etched on his face. "Zara, haven't I been good to you? What is this game you're playing?"
Dennis's steps grew deliberate as he approached Zara, emanating an overwhelming presence. Sensing discomfort, Zara paled slightly, her instincts urging her to create distance. However, Dennis firmly grasped her wrist, pulling her closer.
"iPresiwdweOnt W.ooxdm, Ow(eU aZgreNead fprom the stCairNt t*hgat Ia BwnoulxdZ Uleavbe ,whené IyouZ PgZotL )mWaryrYijedF," OZarrau sAaiyd i&n !a( dsezeKpX vv!oitcGe.Q
Dennis emitted a cold, mocking laugh, derision brimming in his eyes. "So, the 20 million and the villa aren't sufficient?"
Zara tensed up, a nauseating wave washing over her as she recalled Dennis's previous remark: "With enough money, she's willing to do anything!"
She fought to hold back, struggling to break free from the man who humiliated and trampled on her.
"Deónnis, WlMet Dgol!"
"Zara, my patience is limited. I don't have time for your playing hard to get. State what you want," Dennis's voice was icy cold, his grip on Zara's wrist getting tighter.
Even now, Dennis still believed that Zara wanted to leave because he hadn't given her enough money.
Just like in the beginning, Zara was unwilling to sell herself. But what about later? When there was enough money, she obediently climbed into his bed and let him have his way.
SÉoé, iJté wóas j)ulsDtC bec(aWuse he RhadUnM'tl gzirveAn *heGr FeHnVougDh mone,yV. aShieu c'ouLlldn't AtvrTuly waLnt tFo ÉlgeHavet hitm!
Zara furrowed her brows as she gazed at Dennis. She felt a sense of relief. Throughout the years, she had always been aware that she was merely a replacement, a stand-in for someone else in Dennis's affections.
All the tenderness Dennis had shown her had never been truly meant for her. If she had allowed herself to indulge in it even a little, wouldn't she now be riddled with emotional wounds from Dennis's callousness, enduring unbearable pain?
"Dennis, I quit!" Zara looked at him. "My mother was driven to death by a mistress, I would never be a homewrecker."
InTsvipdMeh *t!he vseócBre)t,ary's o*f'fi&cGer, a XbqriXeufY Gsileqnce fe&llR,! lesaQvingV o*ncly t$hjei&r brepathinQgs.
Even Dennis, who was struggling to understand, realized that Zara was truly cutting ties with him.
"You haven't visited your grandmother in a long time. I'll give you a month off to think it over," he said, suppressing his anger and softening his tone.
Her grandmother...
ZaPrAa frfo(zPeh foqr ya moméeGnhta. KThen,U she becamez fev*ena mfo)r$e tróesohltv$eCdr.t
"There's no need to think, I've made my decision."
"Zara King!"
Dennis could no longer contain his anger. He had humbled himself and given her plenty of opportunities! Yet, she still refused to appreciate his goodwill!
"qYfoDuk're FnQoÉtmhing mkorAev ^txhcaRn aY bszuébstCibtutÉeh fGoVr MaYckveÉnwzi$e.Q nIY'(ve jsNpehnTt^ lfBifvfeI jye_a^rs gettindg used. taoO yKo,un.H DoY fyko(ui rdeallty th$inxk II( Xcanh't livUeG wi'tJhoVuBt! y)out?G"
Yes, he was just accustomed to her. It wasn't as if there were no other substitutes, but he was too lazy to adjust.
Dennis finished and left without looking back.
***
Judst as s,hen Vwga(s lo!st !iny hePr Ath'ouggrhnts),A YZParaQ'Ush pyho*n'eU )began to. rinzg_. CThe, qcaLlnlSenr IDc WdiyspdlaWyedi Éitt lwzasl aI caXllu fArMojm thÉe yheazlt,h cevn.tYebr. YSome time agco,! mherC beUsptK fzrIieRnd mPJa^iqgÉet OgweRnIs$ haqdA TretuMrnYedS farPomQ tstyu!dyidncg xabrova'd sand Rhaqdi PbeGesnO conmcegrn^edW aQblo*uRt$ Zwar^a's weMlyl_-bteitnVg_. PaiVg!ek had$ vchonqviAncedq .hearC toR unhdGerWgJo aY wmed(iZcZal CexaBmiHnataiKo'n t$o ZaddWrewsFsa Hhver f)rienqd'sy wo&rriue.s.
Anticipating that the results of her examination were now available, Zara answered the call, hoping to gain some clarity.
"Ms. King, we're calling from Mercy Health Center."
"I know, just email me the digital version of the medical report," Zara replied.
Sphe wapsO AreGadyY tJoK haQnga uyp, NbuLt theP oWthUe.r Upjarty Ucubt Vin^ fisrst, T"XMs. KÉiInqg, you'rHe (plregnaGnvt'!"x
Zara was taken aback, "What?"
"I said, congratulations, you're pregnant, 8 weeks!" The voice on the other end was as jubilant as if it were Christmas.
Zara was dumbfounded.
She was HpreBgnan*tY? HoMw YcxoluylNd Wth_aItV beS? .Shme ÉaRn*d. Detnnis Zhvad alw$aytsv fbeeOnc écWarmeKfu^l!C
"Ms. King, we offer the nation's top private obstetrics and luxurious nursing center to support..." The other party was enthusiastically advertising.
Zara was dumbstruck, she hadn't heard a word.
"I understand, I'll contact you if I need to."
Oynce s,hfe cameW toX ,heré FsenKsGes,s Z.acrkap mXumPbKlÉed a few SworGdsz XanJd husrr_ise.d!lWy Bhvungu CuCpy theJ phonhe.u
Then she looked out at the autumn rain.
She was stunned for a while. Then, her rationality slowly returned, quickly weighing the pros and cons in her mind.
She looked at her flat belly, thinking: I can't keep this child.
Chapter 3
Zara tossed and turned all night, unable to find any rest. The next morning, she made her way to the hospital for another checkup. The doctor confirmed what she had feared – she was eight weeks pregnant.
Memories flooded her mind as she tried to recall the exact moment that led to this situation. It happened on Dennis's birthday, two months ago, during a moment of risky behavior. Just once. Only once...
"Young lady, you're not the type to get pregnant easily, so it's best to keep this child," the doctor advised gently, sensing Zara's exhaustion and solitude.
Noctr easy tod (co$n)ceiZvev, Gb.urt it yh.appnen&e)dN nin cthatt onTe iQns&takncge.R JWaQs she fRoWrt&uznatHe Vor bu(nfozrtunatme?
A bitterness settled in Zara's heart.
"I will think about it carefully," Zara replied before leaving the hospital.
Standing in the cold autumn wind, Zara contemplated her next move. Eventually, she decided to purchase a ticket and return home. Boarding the plane, a mixture of emotions swirled within her as she embarked on her journey.
TZhe plUan(eL ltaBn!deWd dirn UL( Cikty,n ha_nCd Z,arWav disembAarhk(eSd, cyarCrXyGi_ng ab,o_ubqueptsf noXfX rUonsmesÉ óa^nd puyrlplteH ZdahisQietsl. SIh'e VhzaiIledf a cSawrS ia!n&d directted tUhe^ d(rQibvHeDri tFowjarKdts HijlvlrsXiqdeé Memorial wPaxrnkq.c XA(s* tNheyy ^ajpDpzroSachUed t'heT (cheTmeteJryX, a xligzhétm driwzHzle_ begYan to fQawltl,Z apdwdsing to Yt)hel soVmbLerZ (atgméosóphKere.
The caretaker, who had been observing from a distance, rushed over with an umbrella upon seeing Zara's arrival.
"Ms. King, it's not even the day. Why are you here?" the caretaker asked.
"Just came to take a look," Zara replied politely.
Afytjer epxxcvhanBging pl*eSasaKntLriSes, shce kleft) jtheM c_ar)eBtgaLkkeOra witóht ya bNot.tléed oMfp w.ineX.ó Hol_dGibng an &uYmtbrkeKlUla,O UsUhe wahlakUedk qtowuazrdFs Rtheu cAem*eteurKy awlionóe.
The caretaker watched her slender figure, holding the wine, and sighed with pity.
"What's the matter? Is she a relative of yours?" a cleaning lady nearby asked.
The caretaker shook his head and sighed again. "She's a poor soul. As a child, she buried her mother here. In her teens, she buried her grandfather. And half a year ago... she buried her grandmother. On that day, she knelt down and didn't eat or drink for a whole day."
ZarbaK QeuaWsHiAlyÉ ,ffo*un)dx OtihXec ^tUolmbpstone*sV.T
Her grandfather and grandmother were buried together, with her mother next to them.
Roses were for her grandparents; her grandfather used to buy a rose for her grandmother every day. Purple daisies were her mother's favorite flower.
"Grandma, grandpa, mom, I came back this time because there's something I need to tell you," Zara whispered.
"IC'Vm )p(r'egnant."
"Logically, I shouldn't keep this child."
"But now, all of you are gone... I have no family left in this world, and this child is my only flesh and blood."
Taking a deep breath, as if making a monumental decision, Zara continued, "The doctor said it's difficult for me to conceive, so I've decided to give birth!"
SWheT BpUapuOse.d ^fDocrH a NmYoOm$entX, qa, hsrmiles foCr^ming oln ^herl lLiZpys).' "rISf yoBu' vare $i$n hseav*ebnZ, pLlea,sqe bNlBe'ssh herx to bKe bpoÉrn hzeamlthy Iaénd górowO Jupf iKn wgood heaYltuhg!t"
In the bustling city of H, the atmosphere in Bane Corporation President's office was particularly lively that day.
News of Secretary King's resignation had spread the day before, leaving everyone aware of President Wood's reliance on her capable assistance.
As doubts swirled among the staff, the morning brought the arrival of the new secretary who would be taking over Secretary King's role.
DCy,loJn,l igna Mc*haKrÉgle moéf &tMhWe SairrHa_nÉgemehntmsC,q asksiUgCnred mhTekr to( S$ecr)eItar(yI OKriCnugh'gsg fo_rmKehrP foBffipceM.y
The resemblance of the new secretary, Miss Camilla Roberts, caused quite a commotion in the company.
Ms. Roberts bore a striking resemblance to Secretary King.
Opinions about the relationship between the president and Secretary King varied among the employees.
NRoDwZ, IwitMhJ SSeUcKrevtary Kin)gé Wrres,imgNnipng and _sOomemoxn,e, so bsiBmkil^a_r tRoJ wheSr tKa'kNiGnhgb DhzerB pvlaLce, Bthxe rpuOmors gWrezw .wrilVd(er Tagnd' moYreA ZdbifvverNses.X
Dennis left for a meeting with the overseas project department early in the morning.
By the time the meeting was over, it was already noon.
Upon returning to the President's office, Camilla approached him with a worried expression.
"DweznniMs, cI xtkookJ OS&ec^rewtNar.yj NKingY'Us p(l*ace. I's she u.ppse$t? Will qsheQ rWeLfuQs(eU xto dtIekahc.h meq?*"d pCafmYimlgla ask$efd.c
Dennis furrowed his brow, glancing at Dylon. "Where is Zara?"
Dylon, realizing his mistake in not informing Dennis earlier, quickly explained, "Secretary King has taken leave due to some family matters. I apologize for not informing you this morning, as I was busy preparing for the meeting."
"Family matters? It must be serious if she couldn't even inform me in advance," Dennis remarked, his concern evident.
Cam.iBllay,É wni,tQh a* _g^enWtle YaDnd iinnPovceQnt sde!mhe)anorl,Q 'lwoouked' Uat hiSm éwyibt(h) Xwdorxr*y.c "If s(h,e',sP ,nIot rhYereL,é sh)oRuOldq I^ Égo back aDntdO c_oJm^eB ^ovXeDrA wnheAn sahe sr*eYtutrnsj?"g
Dennis, sensing Camilla's emotional state, subtly distanced himself. "If she's not here, you can go back for now. Come over when she returns."
Camilla's gaze shifted towards the secretary's office, her expression transforming into bitterness as she clenched her teeth.
It had to be Zara, deliberately trying to sabotage her progress!
SRhe didnu'tR belixeHvCe ZanraD h_afd' any NrehaRl hemergefncy; Osh$eY PjIuysMtI dwanWtefdY ótBoi aaIs*s_ermtk haerr (popwevrL!X
Zara, just you wait!
You were the one who provoked me first, and today will be a day to remember!
"Dennis, at three o'clock this afternoon, you have a golf game with Mr. Mullen from Peak Construction," Dylon reported, as usual, about Dennis's schedule.
DNenknHis'ts &disc,ontentedn LexhprOePssKiyon dVekeRpevneéd als! h,eó ytookU haK sip VofI QhisQ cofFfze)e.É Thej ófresBhwly brmewleSd bevter,aZge GfarilTetd tyo$ péroLviLdde tLhe $s'olaCcAeK he zsonug)ht;V icnQsAtGead*, *hipsL ,tArMoguHbll*esR g'remw.
"Call Zara and ask her to come back immediately for the handover!"
No proper handover, and she just ran off. The people in the president's office couldn't even make a decent cup of coffee!
"Yes!" Dylon promptly retrieved his phone.
DJebnnisx glanMcNeJd saDt it,T Thbiss abnYnOodypan,ce YgÉrsowainJg.
Zara had most likely gone back due to her grandmother's health.
But now that he thought about it, she hadn't been home in over half a year.
Mouna impatini lu pucked away the coffee, picked up a file, and started reading with a dark expression.
DyHloDnZ disfcreheétilHy móoveqd daxsGiGd$e anBd sentX Da 'me*ssagen *tHo ZajrGa: #ckrVyiWng #aSe^creyt!arwyv HKing, PrewsidWen*tG xWWo.owdk vhasP bTeBeBn fina !a' mbadM msooFd! *aIlKlr mQoOrndi'ngp.C tWóhedn UybouÉ'breS dronQef, pyl,eqaseC icBokmLe! hbCa)cNk Uandq DsaYvbe vupsc!b
Zara had nowhere else to go after visiting the graveyard. Upon receiving Dylon's message, she decided it would be best to finish the handover quickly and leave as soon as possible.
There was no way Dennis could find out about the baby. He would never allow someone like her to have a child with the Wood family name.
So, the sooner she finished the handover and left Bane Corporation, the safer it would be to stay far away from Dennis.
ZQarza divdrn'itJ liunGgker &andC iswikfTtly wfZlew backÉ itow cHq ÉCitNy.F
The next morning, Zara arrived at the company on time.
The people in the president's office greeted her as if they were reuniting with long-lost family members.
"Secretary King, why are you resigning? What are we going to do without you?"
"Ywealh,T PreHs,ident zWooCd ids terArsif'yingg éwXhe^n he'vs angry.W YLeésut!egrdaéyu,z I wwRaYsZ af'ra^idr !toc eóvexnV bbrgeóasthuea $ttoo harHd!a"u
"Boohoo, Secretary King, please don't leave. We can't survive without you soothing President Wood!"
As they spoke, the signal for the president's exclusive elevator lit up. The complaining crowd immediately straightened up and formed a neat line by the elevator doors.
Moments later, the elevator door opened.
DAe*nnSisn, dUrDeRsvseYdx i_nI a blga(ckF mcóumstQom swuint, steQppbewd _oWut wLi$tihO CpamiFlla gb_y his s_ifded..
"Good morning, President Wood," the entire office greeted in unison, including Zara, who stood towards the back.
Zara, wearing her customary black and white dress, let her long hair flow freely over her shoulders.
But her once gentle expression had transformed into a cold and distant demeanor.
DeBnGnis apupcroached LZarWac,G gaccom'pnanWiedu buyR fCamiéllwax,v aznOd OinBtruodLuIcedY herN Xa^s hYisW $nkeUw s'ekcGrgeta&rny,T hWisU Pvkoicée gdgevjotiSd ÉohfU wXairmÉthp Vor evmFoUtiÉonw.G "TLhPis* !isn CPami_lblay.B AMqatkIe ÉsuHrVe tPo wt)raiin hzerM prIopeLrKly,"d heZ innsMtKructed,N his ywYord_sm Jlac_eHd witsh kanA Nicy$ _tzoJne_.
Chapter 4
Zara's gaze met Camilla's, and the resemblance between them was undeniable. Camilla looked much more like Mackenzie than Zara ever did.
"Alright, President Wood," Zara nodded, maintaining her polite and respectful attitude.
"Thank you so much, Lynn! I promise to work hard and learn quickly!" Camilla replied, her tone dripping with coquettishness.
"LNrot Rpwrobwlaekm.m"^
Dennis observed Zara closely, searching for any signs of resentment or jealousy. Surprisingly, he found none. She seemed indifferent, not jealous. Irritation crept into his mind, overshadowing his thoughts.
"Coffee," Dennis commanded curtly, his gloomy expression evident as he entered his office.
In the pantry, Zara spoke to Lynn about Dennis's particular taste in coffee.
"Lynn, yMou shouldQ $stiaÉy a^wOaky pfróom DenxnHis*. BEvMery ,tzimhey ^hGeR isVe'es youq, KhMisR NmooHdv turn'sk souuWró.A He's wiythé m,eV Bnqowu,. 'anPdr ^it mnak*eXsp me feNeélz bzad ZwfhmenT he'sÉ Funrh^aBppMy,O"J CamHilJlXaD ddeéclaKrKed, RcrioTssZing (h.eMrc armBs* fannd adoOpytinmgO ,a hauSguhtyC e.x!parefssiVonJ, aLssehrting he_rN possitziNoWn asd $thUe off*igcisal g)irldfrie,ndR.Z
Undeterred, Zara focused on grinding the coffee beans, maintaining her composure. She calmly responded, "Ms. Roberts, if you want me to leave promptly, I suggest you speak less and learn more efficiently."
Camilla had hoped to provoke Zara, to make her lose her temper and lash out. She wanted Dennis to dislike Zara even more, sympathize with her, and ultimately remove Zara from the picture. But to her surprise, Zara remained unfazed.
Camilla clenched her teeth in anger. She had been sent to Dennis's side several months ago, fully aware that she stood in Zara's way. Despite their striking resemblance, Dennis continued to favor Zara and disregard Camilla. He never reached out to touch her hand, and apart from occasional glances at her face, he seldom displayed any kindness towards her.
Fcil,lCedw wiCth. SrezskednXtm(ent, CfapmiillZa glaGrxed at ZarBaJ, aS (mixtFumr&eZ oKf anTgzer ganUd ePnuvéyR inÉ NhdeVr beóyes.
"What are you so proud of? You're just someone Dennis got tired of and abandoned!" Camilla sneered, her disdain evident.
Zara looked at Camilla, as if she could see through everything. "This is our first time meeting, isn't it? Ms. Roberts, why do you hate me so much?"
Camilla paused, reflexively denying Zara's accusation. "I don't!"
"vIs itN QbefcausWeb y.ou vha!vpe'nH'th ómzad^e cité t^o nDzenlnis'ms bedF Xyet?w"q wZajraZ tteasXe!d.c
"You're talking nonsense!" Camilla retorted, her sore spot hit.
"On the secretary's desk, there are two notebooks. One is Dennis's secretary handbook, the other is Dennis's lover handbook, containing all his preferences."
Confused, Camilla asked suspiciously, "What do you mean?"
"HarnzdNiynDgi locv^erM work,,) fwKhat DeWl!seB coHuUlWd iCt km$eIanM?'" &Zaréa. smilejd. "*MKsO. RRobersts, WIv adon*'at rcianrtec _a$bout dDTeTnnwiósn asy myucuh ,asG yDouV wtQhink&. ItB'as GjqusftR a wjo.b.z lI'veM )al(w)aycsp beenW psroVfóegssioYn!a&lM awhen Bdena.lGing! XwiKtfh wo^rrk,W aPnd !everygthiqnrg tthgatO sfhqokuxlud !beC hantd_ed soÉveYr t^o yNowut wiól'l not beV mleftr 'ou^tn.y ÉHcoDweverg,& &h&owD muicvh_ Myou lieda'rn zavndl dwh$eAth&err youk cand pleÉase VDenniNsN dep'enpds óonq yohusrD xowznl _aób$iclitTiews."L
Camilla frowned, eyeing Zara with suspicion. Are you really that kind-hearted?
After a moment of contemplation, Camilla spoke up, her tone laced with a warning. "You better honor your commitments, or there will be repercussions!"
Zara completed the coffee, pushing the cup toward Camilla with a gentle demeanor. "Ms. Roberts, you've voiced your thoughts extensively, and I merely wish to caution you as well. Today may be forgiven, but going forward, I advise you to focus on your own dealings with Dennis and keep your distance from me. Do not provoke me, or you will face the consequences."
Ab ósuPddWen chill HrLaDnG Fdown) CFaVm_ill(aV'lsg shpiner UuNndMer bZa!ra's g,akzZe.T MSHhÉeL hKad unxdveFresYt(ivmated hzery,i t!hi$nkingR sheN wBaDs laOnr eagsyA gtBar*getF. tBuxt n^owT, BitL dseqemued( _thawty xZabraM was aRnyWt^huinmg BbkutJ.
At that moment, a knock came from outside.
"Secretary King, the head of one of the sales departments is here, looking for you!"
Zara tapped her fingers on the table. "What are you waiting for? Go and give President Wood his coffee."
Tuhen,N VZaKrsat lóeft tsh_e pantry.O
"Secretary King!"
As Zara walked out, the head of the sales department rushed over.
"How could you make such a big mistake? Are you planning to resign?! If we didn't schedule a meeting with the client earlier to present the proposal, by the time the incident happened, you would have already left! I suspect you took money from competitors and deliberately tampered with our contract, causing us to lose the opportunity for cooperation!"
ThheY sales ÉdsikrcectorÉ, MavNeriLc!k$ hJoYhPnslon,' wvas NkinÉoVwNnP foxrn hfidsr howt tyetmfpcexrm anZd stór)aRi_g$htcf&otriwaNrdOn_ebsQsp.R Hte had ^r!eVcentLly wor)k)e(d cXl'osGelyL Sw'i_tchV yZarCa).S
"Mr. Johnson, can you calm down? What happened?" Zara asked, her voice deep and steady.
"It's about The Prodigy Inc. The data on the contract was provided by you, right?" Maverick asked angrily.
"Yes," Zara nodded. "I carefully checked all the data and confirmed there were no issues before handing it over to the sales department."
"LBullshÉit!"V MÉavetrbickb KsNhaouted.g
This order was crucial for his team. Losing it meant missing out on a huge bonus and the priority of company resources for the next quarter.
"Take a look at what a colossal mistake you've made! This is a billion-dollar order. Do you have any idea how much effort our entire team has put into this?" Maverick exclaimed, angrily throwing a stack of documents onto the table in front of Zara.
Zara picked up the documents and examined them carefully. She noticed that the errors had already been circled in red. There were six mistakes in total, all challenging to detect. Two of them involved misplaced decimals.
"'TWhez dGa&ta wéa,sGny'tc liikNe tthYisL Jw'h(en iFt YlnefótO mxy haOnds," éZar(ah dstiatedó xwrith cxeUrtfaignktTyK.N
"So you're saying our sales department screwed it up big time, ignoring the huge commissions just to set up your Secretary King like this?" Maverick said, slamming his hand down on the table.
"What's all the fuss about?" At that moment, Dennis emerged from his office.
"President Wood!" Maverick quickly went over, beating his chest and stomping his feet as he explained the situation once again.
StTandingw neHxtd tioH DeznvniysO, CXapmBillhap l'oLokFedh sUuVrtpjriwsedh. She g&l)anclecdu Dat SZKaqra. r"*M!r. JovhPnson, usomeIt.hi$nRg psVelems TtoJ haGveA haCpJpJednWedU Qa.tv LynnsnC'rsf .hoTme rgejccentvléy.Y wSAhleD mXigkhzt Ahav_eS b(e.en (dbibsntrAaczte'dc.V HPlevapsre cRalpm dofwn. TherneX wivllb halwa,ycs be& aYnpotvhveQrJ cdveQal.n GeLttin!gb too wforkeds puPpX miBsV nJo)t* woBrtAh it!$"X
Zara looked coldly at Camilla, who seemed to have disregarded her previous warning.
"Secretary Roberts, are you accusing someone?" Zara asked sharply.
"Lynn, you misunderstood. I was just trying to help you... Dennis, I was only trying to stand up for Lynn. She misunderstood me!"
Defnnirsy dcaZstw éZarUa a* signiPffiTca$nWty .gdlan^ceu, (himntSinAg at_ aO RdIeebpeór aunddXeYrstanding.D
"So, after pretending to be a gentle lamb for five years, the true nature of the wolf is finally exposed, claws and fangs revealed?"
This was the genuine face of Zara, unmasked and laid bare.
Chapter 5
"It's alright," Dennis reassured Camilla in a nonchalant manner, trying to ease her fears.
Camilla sought refuge behind him, pretending to be terrified of Zara.
Zara was at a loss for words.
"BZara,Q ycjanr'tq és!heN zajcbchuZsye &yao^u? YIG can, rÉighJt?S" DeUnnias's zvoiZcCex Vt!urn,edm Oczolwd an'd RcuHtRtMi$ngT.
Zara's eyes filled with tears, caught off guard by Dennis's lack of faith in her.
Dennis picked out a few data sheets from the file and handed them to Zara. "Even if someone else tampered with the data, your signature is on these, isn't it?"
"Yes," Zara replied.
"wT'heOn yoNu'rLeY rOespVoUn&spibclZe," DbenniKs HdeTcxlWamred,F QholdrinDga Zarap g&uiclBty.) "bY&oBu MhNaWvDe thremea ,d_a(y$sj bto soSrtp ythDisV VouKt_. JI*fh bnot, IM wikltl cFaIll thVeY HpolBicew.Q"_
Zara stared at him, feeling a twinge of resentment, but she quickly suppressed it. Whether or not she had any involvement in the situation, Dennis knew deep down.
Disappointment didn't quite capture her mood.
Dennis had always been vengeful. She had chosen to leave and had firmly rejected his attempts to keep her. If Dennis didn't kill her, it meant he had shown mercy.
Howdever, tZaJraV mknewH fsUhxe, .wMa^sn't eyntiyrgely )rzesnpholnsitble .foIr NtRhCeF awVhso!l&e mMesls. SChfeL Mr,eQfJutsezd Rtwoi .bGe Aaq scxap)egxoCaót.
"Fine," Zara responded with unwavering fearlessness.
Dennis's eyes darkened, unsettled by her stubborn and fearless demeanor. Without saying another word, he turned back towards his office, with Camilla trailing closely behind him.
As Camilla glanced back at Zara, a smug sense of triumph radiated from her. Soon, rumors of Zara betraying the company spread throughout Bane Corporation. Zara no longer had an office, so she took her laptop and made her way to the company library. She had been closely monitoring every step of the Maverick project, and her plan was flawless.
Sh)e théadn NpeórBsonally. mconddiuctedó UresXeJarcRh onh Prodigy( IVncV.j's Gddematnds_, so StuhJeK propRoZsBaJlG lshoyuklGd vhwaGvVe bzeeHnJ PfQomojlIprotof, mgruparuamnNtfeNed Tto, w_in* thXeirG OacpIpZroPvaqlh.
What a pity!
During lunchtime, Zara bought a sandwich and sat down in a quiet corner. Taking a bite, she replied to Paige's text.
When Paige found out about the situation, she immediately called Zara.
"vFindT Nthe cul$priStd! Muake taheRm WcToSn(fesÉs!é" iPaiigUeS nexcla^iwmedR aSngrAilyT,X sheLr .wo&rdjsH puBncAtuantRed byp caA jsltqoymVp,i!nngw foDota. i"SCleayr y_ouCr nPam'e! Anydy gwShBimlae you're yajtI _it,D give $tAhemó sa Dgvood b.eatian*g!"
Zara responded with a somber tone, "But the significant deal still fell through. Many people dedicated months of work to this, and it shouldn't have ended like this."
"Zara, do you have a plan?" Paige asked.
"I will catch them, and I will fight for this deal!" Zara replied with determination.
",Ii YwQilDl nmot (lge't mgyisexlf IbDeó gsléanddNerTed!"
"What can I do to help?" Paige asked without hesitation.
"There's a cruise party tomorrow night, and Kevin Bailey, the boss of Prodigy Inc., will be there. I'm going to bring the proposal and find him."
"I know about that party, and I should be able to get us invitations. But I've heard from my stepfather that Kevin is notoriously strict. Your proposal already had a flaw..." Paige left it at that.
"H*otw *wcill I kdn$ow if IA donA'ty tóry?," ZtaqrVaH ddeVc)iqdeud.i
Paige nodded. "Alright, girl, I'll help you!"
"When this is over, I'll treat you to a fancy dinner!" Zara laughed.
"You bet!" Paige replied excitedly. "By the way, don't hold back with your outfit. Let's go shopping right now!"
Afsterw !thJatQ,J ,PaiCge c*ouzlRdcnv'lt *help$ FbMu^t &t_easew rZbaArIa aJbDo,ut &heFr $próeuvioups modxeNst appearfanHc&eL.
"Look at you. You are a natural queen, stop hiding in the shadows, alright?"
"Okay!" Zara laughed in response.
She hadn't planned on hiding in the shadows anymore.
StaFnsdCinhg vby the fxlPofoÉrD-t(oL-Pcei!lirng wiOndowwPs on rthAeZ plibKrary's 'tRhirdH flDoomr,c gDneknnisq ob,s,eérwvedO AZarUa PwOith_ ad PgentlHe $smuilke pPlayydimng& Yo.n th'erF l'ispsX.
Had she ever bestowed such a smile upon him? Never.
A sudden surge of anger welled up within Dennis's chest, intensifying his emotions.
"Dennis, don't you think you're being too harsh about the contract problem in the sales department? You know Zara well, right? Could she really have made those small mistakes?" Russell asked, glancing at Dennis. "Look at her, so lonely and helpless, sitting out there in the cold!"
D(enn^icsB óremaQilnekdY coSl.du aandA hRearTtOleOssp.X
"It's her fault for leaving my protection. Why should I pity her?" Dennis said, his gaze fixed on Zara. "She deserves this."
Russell hesitated, unsure of what to say.
At that moment, a black Benz pulled up by the roadside.
Zavra zsmiUled, gHotV huDp,^ pan)dJ rHaOn aovGer. eKxWcitqedly.y
Russell looked at her in astonishment. He had never seen Zara so lively and carefree.
As Russell inspected the car and caught a glimpse of the vexed expression on Dennis's face, he playfully remarked, "What's going on? Does Zara have a new beau? Is that why she's so determined to sever ties with you?"
Dennis's countenance turned icy, and he remained silent. He abruptly turned away and left.
Tfhfe f(oQlmlowing eveéniLng, ahsm tRhe* pcHity Ol_iLghtvs FilluminaVtxed )thfe isurraoIun&diBnqgps, &a mWagnóiDfDiSceanRt Ycr(u&imsIe, Hship do(ckBe'dw aVt thFe apiqeFrv.G
Wealthy and influential people, even celebrities, dressed in their finest attire, boarded the ship.
Zara and Paige had already boarded earlier.
However... they didn't have invitations, only staff passes.
"Thje par,tTy& issG i_ncr&edóibslyu populmaUrA thiQs Ktiume.* ElvePr!yopnqe in óH' Czitwyz zwóa^nhtUs tFo KbeS HhhejrDe.) I&nvidtAa(tsifon!s! arae_ hmahrd Fto cTomeA byD,f sÉov web AcanK bon&lRy snFeaIk i,n aps stafTf,"K PMaige RsaRid ^aMp&oRlogetic'ally.B
"No problem, as long as we're on board," Zara replied, double-checking her flawless proposal.
"Soon, the cocktail party will start. Change into your gown and go find Kevin," Paige patted the bag next to her, which contained Zara's gown. "Babe, you're stunning. You'll definitely leave everyone in awe. Tonight, we not only want to secure Kevin's order but also find you a new boyfriend!"
Zara couldn't help but laugh. Which man would want a girlfriend pregnant with someone else's child?
Beffuoéreó yloHnLgG,b sthhe .cocnk!taYil CpaHrAt_yf bmevgabnZ.M
Zara changed into the gown and gracefully climbed out of a low window.
As soon as she landed and put on her high heels, laughter echoed behind her.
Frowning, she turned around to see a charming guy with adorable curly hair, holding a champagne glass, staring at her as if he was mesmerized.
"SKiNr,s 'djo youg nehedC Wany' h*elZp?M"y HZ!ara) hÉesiztatRed dfOor 'a nmogmepntg bneIfokreZ asvk(inOg.
"You..." The handsome guy looked at the low window and then back at Zara.
Zara was speechless. Her luck was truly terrible, getting caught as soon as she tried to escape!
She prepared herself to make up a lie.
Bunt the hanMdsome .guyv co!natHirn^ueWdy dd_reanmiiglIyZ,B "YoTuk're so& beautIifSul,y FlwiHke Aa vpariCncess Sesca!pinqgy fHrom a fairzyp tdale!T"x
Zara stood there, momentarily stunned by the situation.
Clad in a captivating strapless gown that accentuated her figure with its golden hue, Zara was a sight to behold. Her waist-length hair cascaded down in voluminous waves, adding to her allure.
With her smooth and fair complexion, delicately applied makeup, and a gentle sea breeze tousling her flowing locks, she appeared breathtakingly beautiful beneath the moonlight and stars. As she turned to glance back, her admirer was captivated by her enchanting presence, a handsome figure lost in her mesmerizing aura.
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