When I returned to the company, I finally learned he had gone on a business trip. Before that, I had always believed in my own beauty, fairy-like, irresistible, capable of charming any man I wanted. Even when he left without saying a word the morning after, I told myself he must have been busy. I convinced myself he would explain eventually.
But after seeing Gideon's attitude today, how he looked at me like he'd never met me—something inside me snapped.
So that night meant nothing to him, after all. Him saying he wanted to date me was probably just an excuse to get me in bed.
Bastard.
I had thought he was different from other men. Turns out they were all the same. I must have been blind, grease smeared across my eyes to think chasing him was a good idea. That night? I should count it as being bitten by a stray dog.
This rotten company could keep itself. I wasn't staying another second.
Holding my resignation letter, I went to the office of the department supervisor. I knocked several times, no response. Just as I raised my hand again, a colleague walked by.
"Looking for Ms. Vivienne? She went home early—family matter."
I stared at the tightly closed office door, my mood sinking even further.Nothing was going right today.
Since I couldn't submit the resignation, I'd have to wait until tomorrow. I returned to my desk, shoved the envelope into my bag, and packed up. Most colleagues had already left; I might as well go too.
Outside the company building, I received a text from my landlord reminding me about rent. I immediately replied that I wouldn't be renewing next quarter and would move out within two days.
After sending the message, I put my phone away and walked toward the roadside to call a ride.
But after just a few steps, the sky suddenly opened, dumping cold rain from heavy clouds. The autumn wind whipped the drizzle around, freezing enough to make my teeth chatter. I grit my teeth, used my handbag to cover my head, and ran toward the bus stop.
It was rush hour in the commercial center of Silverpoint City. Countless people were trying to hail taxis. Every time a cab arrived, crowds swarmed around it, men and women alike scrambling for a seat.
I grew up pampered; I had never fought for a taxi in my life. Wearing heels made it impossible to squeeze forward anyway.
I opened the ride-hailing app, the queue was nearly triple-digit. Rain poured harder. My mood, already ruined all day, plummeted to rock bottom.
Through the haze, a black Bentley approached from the distance.
Gideon.
He must have been exhausted these days jet lag, work pressure. He left work early today. Sitting in the back seat, he ended a call, put his phone down, and happened to glance out the window right at me.
I was still in Nova Haven's receptionist uniform: fitted navy blazer, pencil skirt outlining my figure, long wavy hair blown messy by the wind, yet still unable to hide my face.
He must've remembered the gala night me in a dazzling red gown, approaching him first. My method wasn't exactly subtle, but surprisingly, he didn't seem bothered. Maybe it was the alcohol, but everything afterward had felt natural.
He wasn't the kind to avoid responsibility.
Before leaving the country for business, he had left a note on the bedside table explaining why he had to go and giving me his contact number.
But I never called him.
At first, he considered having someone investigate me, but then dismissed the thought. Perhaps he assumed I was a seasoned flirt, that our night together meant nothing to me. Maybe he even felt used.
Fine. Let him think that. He wouldn't be the first man to misunderstand me.
But of all the women vying for his attention, he, who rejected them all, ended up being "toyed with" by me in his mind. That must've bruised his ego.
Still, he was busy, deeply invested in work, not planning on marriage. He probably decided to treat that night as being scratched by a stray cat annoying, but harmless.
He probably assumed I came from a wealthy family because of my gown and jewelry that night. He couldn't have guessed that today I'd be standing at the receptionist desk in a uniform.
He hadn't figured me out, and clearly didn't intend to. After being "played" once, no way he'd let it happen again.
He turned his head away coldly.
Cars lined up in long queues. Rain hammered down.
Standing under the bus stop sign, I recognized Gideon's car. At first, I wasn't sure through the rain, but after staring harder, I confirmed the logo and license plate.
And something in me: cold, drenched, humiliated, furious, just snapped.
So what if he was from a century-old prestigious family?So what if he ran Nova Haven?I was quitting anyway. What did I have to fear?
I marched straight to the rear door of his car and knocked firmly.
The window rolled down a third of the way.He looked at me with a cold, emotionless expression like staring at a stranger.
Seeing him inside, dry and elegant, while I was soaked like a stray chicken, it made my anger explode.
"What are you staring at? Never seen someone drenched in rain before?" I snapped."Move over. I'm getting in."
The driver stiffened in shock. No one talked to Gideon like that—especially not someone in a Nova Haven uniform.
He glanced fearfully at Gideon. He remembered a woman who once tried flirting with Gideon and got dragged out by security for it. Gideon's disgust had been icy.
And now another woman, this time an employee. The driver thought I must be insane.
Gideon lifted his chin slightly. The dim light cast shadows over his sharp brows. His dark eyes were cold enough to freeze blood, making him seem even more forbidding.
With the rain pounding outside, the air inside the car grew tense.
The driver hesitated should he shoo me away? Without security present, was that his responsibility?
Before he could decide, a quiet sound came from the back seat.
Gideon shifted inward and reached over to open the door.
As I bent down and climbed in, soaked and shivering, I heard him say in a calm, unhurried voice:
"If you want a ride, try having some manners."
The driver: ???