Chapter 2

Scarlett's POV

I went to the hospital alone.

The wound on my forehead required five stitches. Though it hurt, I didn't make a sound.

Holding the payment receipt, I walked out of the treatment room and arrived at the VIP ward area.

Through a half-open door, I saw Adrian.

He sat by the bed, carefully wiping away Vivian's tears with a damp cloth.

Vivian's face was streaked with tears.

"Adrian, please don't blame me. My parents fell seriously ill back then. They forced me to go abroad for treatment and wouldn't let me contact you."

Such a clumsy lie.

Yet I watched as the darkness in Adrian's eyes melted bit by bit under her tears.

He raised his hand to stroke her hair.

"I know. I don't blame you."

Vivian sniffled, her eyes glancing timidly toward the door, her voice just loud enough for me to hear.

"What about Scarlett? She stayed with you for three years."

Adrian interrupted her, his voice tinged with impatience.

"I only see her as a housekeeper."

Housekeeper.

I stood there as all the blood in my body stopped flowing.

I immediately turned and left, unwilling to hear another word.

Returning to the villa, the air still carried the lingering scent of last night's party perfume. Cold and mocking.

I didn't turn on the lights. In the darkness, I opened my laptop.

Opening my email, I found the acceptance letter from Zurich. The cursor hovered over the confirmation button for three seconds.

Then I pressed down hard.

After finishing, I opened an encrypted folder containing the only photo of Adrian and me together.

It was taken after his recovery. He'd picked up his phone and captured it himself.

In the photo, he sat in his wheelchair, turning to look at me with a faint smile at the corner of his mouth.

I dragged the photo to the trash.

Empty. Permanently delete.

Adrian called as if nothing had happened, his tone matter-of-fact.

"Bring that blue emergency file from the study to the office."

I didn't refuse.

I applied light makeup, used my bangs to cover the bandage on my forehead, grabbed the file, and went to Sterling Corporation.

At the CEO's office entrance, I ran right into Vivian.

She held a thermos, and when she saw me, a victor's smile spread across her face.

"Scarlett, you're here too? I made Adrian's favorite seafood soup."

My heart seized. I pushed open the door and shouted a warning.

"Adrian, you're allergic to seafood! You can't drink that!"

Adrian looked up from behind his desk, glanced at me, then at Vivian standing in the doorway looking on the verge of tears. He frowned.

Ignoring my warning, he took the soup bowl and drank a large mouthful right in front of me.

"It's delicious," he told Vivian.

I stood there, speechless.

Before long, his allergic reaction began. His breathing became labored, his face flushed red, and small red welts appeared on his neck.

Struggling to maintain composure, he waved at both Vivian and me.

"Both of you, leave."

I pulled antihistamine pills from my bag, along with a cup of warm water, and pushed them toward him. Then I turned and left.

Outside the company building, Vivian blocked my path. The gentleness on her face had vanished, replaced by undisguised mockery.

"Scarlett, do you see clearly now?"

"You're just a salaried housekeeper."

"While I-"

She smiled slightly.

"I'm the lover he's willing to drink poison for."

I had no comeback. Because it was the truth.