MISTAKEN RUTHLESS TYCOON FOR LOVER

New York City, late autumn, 5:30 PM.

The sun had long been swallowed by thick clouds, leaving only a few pale rays struggling to break through the gray sky.

Emily had been slumped over her desk for hours, cold sweat forming in beads on her forehead.

The sharp trill of her phone rang out clearly amidst the mechanical clatter of keyboards, yanking her back from a fog of dizziness.

"Hello, is this Emily from The New York Times?"

Lying face-down on the desk, Emily forced herself upright and responded, trying to sound alert. "Speaking. Who is this, please?"

"I'm Lens, assistant to the president of Universe Bank. About a month ago, your magazine scheduled an interview with President Aiden Campbell for tomorrow. Do you remember?"

Emily snapped to full awareness, instinctively straightening her posture.

Of course, she remembered.

The name Aiden had been on everyone's lips lately.

At first, he made waves in the industry simply for being the son of Bill, the founder of Universe Group, and for suddenly appearing on the financial scene.

After returning from his studies in Europe, Aiden took over Universe Bank, the group's privately-owned commercial bank.

At the time, insiders weren't optimistic-it looked like Bill had tossed his half-defunct company to his son to let him "play CEO" for fun. Critics even mocked the move in columns that were normally far more serious.

But Aiden proved them wrong. He swiftly tackled the bank's over-reliance on deposit-lending operations and its increasing risk exposure. He focused on risk management, executed reforms decisively, and turned things around.

At just 27, Aiden became the talk of the entire financial world. Awards flooded in, and media outlets scrambled to secure interviews. But despite his fame, actual interviews with him were rare. Even the most mainstream outlets struggled to get even a few quotes.

This interview had taken months of effort and strings pulled by the editor-in-chief to arrange.

When the assignment was handed to Emily, the whole newsroom looked on in envy.

The name Aiden alone guaranteed readership-and the reporter who got to interview him would be in the spotlight too.

Now, however, this call had Emily's stomach in knots. She asked carefully, "Is there a change in schedule?"

"Yes," Lens said. "The interview scheduled for 9 AM tomorrow has to be postponed. President Campbell has a conflict due to other work commitments."

Emily pressed, "Will he be available in the next few days?"

"Unlikely," Lens replied. "If it's possible on your end, we'd like to push the interview to a week later."

That wouldn't work.

In financial journalism, timing was everything. A week's delay would mean the article might not make it to print in time-and any exclusive angles could already be stale.

"That's really not ideal," Emily said quickly. "Would there be any way to squeeze in a short interview? Even by phone?"

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," Lens replied. "I can't disclose the exact schedule, but the earliest availability is next week."

Emily gritted her teeth. "What about tonight? Just three hours-no, two? One hour?"

Before Lens could answer, she jumped in again, desperation leaking into her voice. "Even just one hour. Please, I've been preparing for this interview for a month."

Lens hesitated, then said in a lowered voice, "President Campbell is attending an important event tonight. But-maybe-he could spare a moment during it. No promises though."

"I'll wait," Emily blurted out. "Just give me the address. I'll be there."

Before hanging up, Lens warned her, "Miss Emily, I can arrange a waiting area, but I can't guarantee you'll see President Campbell. It's entirely possible this will be a wasted trip."

-

The call ended with a few mechanical beeps echoing in Emily's ears. She collapsed back onto the desk, nerves slowly settling-only to be replaced by a hollow sense of disappointment.

An Aiden interview should've been a moment of triumph.

But her heightened emotional sensitivity-courtesy of her period-was making the letdown hit even harder. Her mood was terrible. Even a little bitter.

Today was her boyfriend Carlos's birthday.

Their first birthday celebration together as a couple.

Carlos had made dinner reservations and bought movie tickets, all set for a cozy evening. But now Emily wouldn't be there. Instead, she'd be dragging her exhausted, cramping body to an event she might not even get into.

She turned her face to the side, took a few deep breaths, and shut down her computer.

Across from her, Cathy looked up from her own work. "What's going on?"

Emily stayed still a moment, bracing against a wave of pain. Then she said, "The interview's been moved up. I have to go tonight."

"What?" Cathy now noticed how pale Emily looked. Her normally lively expression had dulled, her skin ghostly white. "Are you okay?"

"Doesn't matter. I have to be," Emily muttered, walking over to the printer and gathering a stack of documents. She stood there, staring blankly at the floor.

The printer hummed quietly, neatly stacking the pages in front of her.

Someone's ringtone went off nearby. Emily blinked and slowly pulled out her own phone.

She was about to call Carlos to explain, but just then, he beat her to it.

"Babe, I'm coming to pick you up. What time do you get off?"

Leaning against the printer, Emily drew slow circles on the machine with her finger. "I'm really sorry. I have a last-minute interview. It might take two hours. I don't think I can make dinner."

She hesitated, then added, "I'm also not feeling great, so I might not be up for the movie either."

Carlos sighed on the other end. "Okay. I'll just hang with a friend or something."

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

-

Cathy waited for Emily to hang up, twirling her pen. "You ditched your boyfriend?"

"What else was I supposed to do?" Emily said, hauling her documents over to the binder. "Ditch Aiden?"

"Poor guy. First birthday with you and he loses out to a stranger."

"Sounds like I'm going to Aiden's birthday instead," Emily muttered.

"I still can't believe your boyfriend's okay with this," Cathy said.

"What's there to be mad about?" Emily replied, after a pause. "He didn't complain. Said he understood."

Cathy snorted. "Your guy is way too reasonable. Mine's super clingy. If I bailed on him-reason or no-he'd be mad."

Emily spaced out a little.

A sharp "click" and a jab of pain in her finger snapped her back. She yanked her hand away from the stapler just in time.

But the sting lingered-and seemed to crawl deeper.

She stood silently for a few seconds, then texted Carlos:

Emily,Are you upset?

Carlos,?

Carlos,Nope! I get it. Work comes first. We have many birthdays ahead.

Carlos,Oh, and you said you weren't feeling well. Are you sick?

Emily exhaled.

Maybe she was just being overly sensitive.

Emily,Nothing serious. Just period cramps TAT

Carlos,Poor baby.

Carlos,Where's the interview? I'll come pick you up after.

-

Lens's address was the Warner Estate, far out on the city's western edge.

It was rush hour. Emily battled cramps and took a mix of subway, bus, and taxi. It took over an hour to arrive.

She was irritated. Understandably.

Lens had arranged a lounge upstairs from the banquet hall. Spacious, luxurious-and completely empty. The loneliness amplified every anxious minute.

Emily sat on the sofa, legs swinging in time with the ticking clock. She looked around again and again, trying not to fall asleep.

But time dragged. Her head nodded repeatedly, eyes drooping-until the door finally creaked open.

She sat bolt upright.

But it wasn't Aiden.

It was Miller-Aiden's brother-in-law and Universe Group's second-in-command. Emily had interviewed him before; they knew each other.

Miller's eyes landed on her. For a second, her expression lit up. Then she realized it wasn't who she hoped, and her whole body deflated.

Miller paused, covering his phone. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for President Campbell. I had an interview scheduled tonight."

He gave her a quick once-over, eyes lingering on her pale face. He didn't say much, just mumbled, "It's late," and left.

Emily waited another two hours.

Rain began to fall outside, a cold, steady drizzle tapping at the windows.

Downstairs, faint music and chatter floated up from the banquet. The contrast was brutal.

Just as Emily was losing the battle against sleep, her phone rang again.

The sharp ringtone echoed through the empty room like a bad omen.

"Miss Emily, I'm very sorry-the banquet just ended, but President Campbell has other matters to attend to. So..."

Of course.

Emily was silent for several seconds. "Understood. Thank you."

The interview wasn't happening.

As she stood up, dizziness washed over her. She held onto the sofa, took a moment to steady herself, then headed for the elevator.

By the time she got to the Warner Estate's gates, the rain had grown heavy.

She was wearing a thin skirt suit-not meant for standing outside in freezing wind and rain. Her legs were bare under her coat, her sheer stockings little more than decoration.

People were beginning to leave.

Emily stepped aside, noticing some familiar faces-many from her past interviews.

Apparently, this had been a high-profile finance event.

She tried to scan the crowd for Aiden. But then remembered-she didn't even know what he looked like.

The man was infamously low-profile. Emily had searched online while prepping, but could only find blurry photos where he was barely visible.

-

A female CFO Emily barely knew offered her a ride. Emily declined-Carlos was on his way.

It was now 11 PM. One hour left of his birthday.

No matter what, she wanted to say "Happy Birthday" in person.

The valet area emptied slowly. Tail lights shimmered in the rain.

"Miss Emily?" a man approached.

She recognized him vaguely-a finance exec who often DM'd her on Facebook.

He leaned in, clearly drunk. "Alone? Want a ride home?"

Emily stepped back. "No, thank you."

He grabbed her arm. "Come on, it's pouring."

She shook him off. "Seriously, my boyfriend's coming to get me."

At the word boyfriend, the man gave her a long look, realized she wasn't bluffing, and backed off without another word.

Another young man came up moments later-another familiar face, a rich playboy type.

Same story. Same rejection.

This wasn't a normal finance gala, clearly.

Emily stood by the wall, teeth gritted. Her mood was already frayed. These encounters only stoked the fire.

She didn't notice that Miller, leaving the banquet with Aiden, spotted her standing alone.

He nudged Aiden and murmured, "Isn't that Emily? Poor girl's been waiting all night. I'd take her, but too many eyes on me. You think you could help her out?"

Aiden looked over.

Her wool scarf was wrapped high up to her chin. Her face, pale under the harsh lights, looked doll-like-delicate features, flushed nose, wide eyes.

Pitiful, really.

-

Emily looked up from her phone as a sleek black Bentley pulled up.

Footsteps approached from behind.

She turned-and locked eyes with a stranger.

He stopped. "Miss Emily?"

She didn't recognize him.

But she thought, Why are all these rich guys so casual these days?

"No, thank you," she said coolly.

His eyes, magnified slightly behind gold-rimmed glasses, glinted under the chandelier.

There was something quietly intense in his gaze.

Emily met his eyes and added firmly, "My boyfriend is on his way."Word by word, she emphasized the three words,"my boyfriend."

The unspoken message was clear,I have a boyfriend.

"......"

A barely noticeable, cold curve lifted at the corner of Aiden's lips. One hand in his pocket, he turned and walked away.

The valet pulled open the car door. He got in with a slight bow, and the Bentley sped off.

The taillights of the car blurred into glowing halos in the rain, gradually vanishing from sight.

Emily let out a cold snort and turned her face away.

The rain had stopped, but the banquet hall was now empty.

Valets and doormen were checking the surroundings, and cleaners were dragging mops across the floor, leaving streaks of water behind. Gusts of cold wind swept through, rustling dry leaves that skittered to Emily's feet.

She pulled her scarf tighter around her neck. In this desolate night, she wasn't sure if she should be angry at the stranger Aiden-or at Carlos.

Finally, as the clock struck midnight, a familiar car slowly pulled up to the entrance. Carlos stepped out into the rain.

Before he could speak, Emily ran to him through the rain, throwing herself into his arms and clinging to him playfully.

"I was freezing to death out here!"

Carlos gently urged her into the car. Once she was buckled up, he leaned over and ruffled her hair. "I'm so sorry. The rain was too heavy and I missed a turn. Had to go all the way around."

The moment she heard Carlos's warm voice, Emily's anger melted away. Guilt rushed in instead, and she softened her tone. "I was just saying it to vent. How was your day? Did you have a good time?"

Carlos gripped the steering wheel and let out a long sigh. "How could I enjoy it without my girlfriend by my side?"

"I'm sorry," Emily said with a sweet smile, twisting in her seat to look at him. "So who kept you company today?"

Carlos opened his mouth to answer, but Emily cut in quickly, "Was it Joyce?"

"Yeah."

Joyce was Carlos's college roommate. They had stayed close even after graduation.

"He's getting sassier by the day," Emily muttered.

"Huh?" Carlos glanced at her. "What makes you say that?"

"I used to think he was a total straight guy, like zero flair. But now he's even wearing cologne." Emily leaned over and sniffed near Carlos's neck. "A light, special scent. Not bad. Ask him what it is for me next time-I think it'd suit me too."

"Sure," Carlos replied blandly, shifting the topic. "How did the interview go today?"

Back in front of her boyfriend, Emily dropped all pretense. "That guy-seriously! We scheduled the interview and he just flaked. I waited for hours tonight, and he didn't even show his face."

"Don't get mad." Carlos reached out with one hand to ruffle her hair again. "Capitalists are heartless. No use getting worked up."

"Hey," Emily batted his hand away, a little annoyed. "What's with you and ruffling my hair today? So annoying."

-

Back home, Emily didn't even have the strength to shower or remove her makeup. She kicked off her heels and collapsed onto the couch. Her eyes refused to stay open, and her consciousness began to drift.

Just as she was about to fall asleep, she suddenly remembered-she hadn't confirmed if Carlos got home safely.

She jolted up from the couch like a startled fish.

She couldn't find her phone in her coat pocket, nor in her shoulder bag. Frustrated, she dumped out all her belongings, but the phone was nowhere to be found.

Sitting on the sofa, Emily mentally retraced her steps. It couldn't have been stolen-not with how carefully she had held it earlier.

It had to be either at Warner Manor or in Carlos's car.

Her phone was too important-she couldn't relax until she found it. So she grabbed her iPad and tracked it using location services.

Minutes later, the red dot on the map grew clearer. But what confused her was the location,New York City First People's Hospital.

Had it been stolen after all?

Impossible-she remembered getting into Carlos's car with it in hand. She hadn't gone anywhere else.

The only explanation was that she left it in Carlos's car-and now he was at the hospital.

But why would Carlos go to the hospital at this hour?

Sudden illness? An accident?

Emily didn't dare overthink. She jumped up, changed pants, and rushed out the door.

The storm outside still raged. Cars whooshed by on the street. Without her phone, she couldn't call a ride. She waited more than twenty minutes in the cold wind before finally hailing a taxi.

The hospital glowed brightly even in the dead of night. The scent of disinfectant hung heavy in the air, mixed with the chill of rain.

Emily opened the car door, rain slapping her face.

Holding up her umbrella, she wiped her face with one hand and looked around. Immediately, she spotted Carlos's car.

But Carlos wasn't in it. And without her phone, she had no idea how to find him in such a huge hospital.

The rain was now so heavy that even the umbrella couldn't shield her. Her lower abdomen began to ache. Sweat broke out on her back, her steps unsteady as she made her way toward the outpatient building. Her pant legs soaked through, each step more difficult than the last.

Suddenly, she stepped into a puddle and stumbled. She fell sideways-

Thankfully, she landed against a parked car, sparing her from a full-body plunge into the water.

She stood up slowly and glanced at the car logo-then quickly backed away.

A Rolls-Royce with a matching license plate. Trouble. Someone might think she was trying to scam them.

Rubbing her wrist, Emily trudged forward, her umbrella barely holding up.

But just ten meters from the building entrance, she froze.

Even through the downpour, she could clearly see the man walking out-it was Carlos.

And he had his arm around a woman.

That woman was wearing Carlos's jacket.

The same jacket Emily had bought for him.

Her mind spun. She tried to reassure herself.

They were just friends. Carlos was always kind. Maybe he came to visit someone sick. They weren't doing anything inappropriate.

But then the woman hugged Carlos.

And Carlos raised a hand to ruffle her hair, smiling gently.

In that instant, Emily felt the rain pierce her like icy daggers.

The woman looked up at Carlos, tears in her eyes, faces close enough to feel each other's breath.

From Emily's distance, she couldn't hear what was being said-but she could see the woman's lips moving, and Carlos's growing discomfort.

Then, the woman tiptoed-and kissed him.

Emily shut her eyes as if she had seen something filthy.

Carlos, when I open my eyes, you better have pushed her away.

Push her away, and I'll listen to your explanation.

Seconds passed. Emily, frowning tightly, slowly opened her eyes.

The scene became clear.

Carlos hadn't pushed her away.

He was kissing her back.

His long arms gently encircled her waist.

The rain grew heavier, as if trying to wash the city away.

The night sky turned pitch-black, like a movie screen with the lights turned off. Memories flashed before Emily's eyes.

At first, she hadn't liked Carlos.

It was senior year. Her roommates had gushed about a cute junior, and they all ran to the track field to check him out.

Just okay, she thought. Not that impressive.

She forgot about him quickly.

But Carlos had fallen for Emily at first sight.

At twenty, boys love fiercely. He showered her with flowers, confessed publicly, even sang love songs to her at campus events. Bold and passionate.

But Emily wasn't impressed. She refused the gifts and flowers, and walked out during the songs.

Everyone thought Carlos would give up quickly-including Emily.

But he didn't. Even after she graduated and started interning at a news agency, he still pursued her.

Her life then was exhausting-pitching stories, chasing leads, rushing between interviews on Wall Street, writing articles deep into the night, all for a meager intern's pay while reporting on billion-dollar deals.

She struggled to adjust to adult life, and during that bleak period, Carlos became the only light in her life.

She still remembered the night she agreed to be his girlfriend-it was over the phone. Carlos had been so excited, he immediately took a taxi just to see her and give her a proper hug.

Her friends never understood. "Carlos has nothing going for him," they'd say. "Average background, no career prospects. You could do better."

But Emily had replied, "He's so genuine. That's a rare quality."

So why did things change so quickly?

Her gaze returned to the hospital steps.

A few nurses walked out, saw the embracing couple, and smiled in admiration.

What a perfect match.

The gentle understanding-real.

The detachment-real.

The hair-ruffling habit-also real.

Only "Joyce" was a lie.

Even that faint perfume might have belonged to the woman.

Emily felt like a joke-running through the storm in the dead of night to see this.

Logic told her she wasn't a stranger to the situation. She had every right to step up and claim what was hers.

But her feet wouldn't move.

And her pride wouldn't allow her to cause a scene in a place like this.

After a long, silent moment, Emily touched her face.

Her hand came away wet from rain-maybe with tears, too.

She walked to Carlos's car, took off the silver bracelet he had given her, and carefully hooked it onto the door handle. Then she turned and walked into the storm.

The pouring rain battered the delicate silver chain until it trembled in the wind, still reflecting a cold, sharp gleam.

Just like Emily's expressive eyes, silently saying:

I saw everything.

A sharp, cold wind blew again, a silent reminder for the person standing at the doorway to leave.

Carlos stared at the curtain-like rain, hesitating on whether to make a dash through it, when Angela pulled out an umbrella from her bag, opened it, and held it above his head.

They shared a brief look. Angela smiled slightly, hooked her arm around his, and the two walked slowly toward the parked car.

Though it was only about ten meters away, it took them several minutes to get there. When they reached the car, Carlos murmured, "Well... I should head home now."

Angela kept her arm linked with his and leaned her head against his chest, speaking in a soft, coquettish voice, "Stay with me a little longer, please? I'm afraid that when the sun comes up, I'll find out this was all just a dream."

Carlos licked his lips, his eyes darting uncertainly.

After a moment, he lifted his arms and wrapped them around Angela.

Under the small women's umbrella, they looked tightly packed together. The night rain landed on Angela's neck, sending a chill down her spine, but she didn't let go.

"Are you cold?"

Carlos asked.

Angela hugged him even tighter. "Not with you here."

"Mhm," Carlos replied. "I really should go. I've got work in the morning."

Upon hearing this, Angela finally let him go. She looked up at him, her eyes misty with unshed tears. She looked so delicate, as if the rain would melt her completely if it came down any harder.

She hooked her pinky with his and gave a slight swing. "Carlos, I hope you seriously consider what I said today. Whatever she can give you, I can too. And what she can't, I still can."

Then she let go and whispered, "My uncle is still waiting for me. I'll head off now."

Carlos stood there watching as Angela climbed into a Rolls-Royce. His gaze flickered under the streetlamp, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly.

He turned and slowly made his way to his own car.

In the night's dimness, the world blurred. He pulled out his keys, pressed the unlock button, and reached for the door-only to feel something hard.

When he saw what it was, his heartbeat spiked, blood rushed to his head, and for a moment, his mind went blank. His nerves were stretched to their breaking point.

--

3:45 AM.

The rain had probably stopped. Car horns outside pierced the silence sharply.

Emily lay flat on her bed, staring at the ceiling with a blank, buzzing mind. Her heart felt hollow, like all the oxygen had been drained.

She hadn't sat still after getting home. Instead, she went to the storage room, pulled out a cardboard box, and packed up everything Carlos had given her.

Some things had been used and couldn't be returned, so she wrote a list and planned to pay him back for everything, including a ticket to Catherine's concert-which they were supposed to attend together. Now she'd just return the money for both tickets.

All she needed now was to quietly wait for Carlos to come to her.

Sure enough, the doorbell rang not long after.

Knowing Carlos, he was probably soaked in rain, pitifully standing outside, ready to explain and beg for forgiveness.

She even anticipated his lines-he'd start with, "Let me explain," then look at her with reddened eyes, tug at her sleeve like he did when he first confessed his love.

Thinking of that, Emily chuckled.

It all felt like a dream.

Though she had no strength, she forced herself up and walked to the door.

The hallway light cast a dim glow, but it was enough to see Carlos clearly.

He held a blue umbrella with lace trim, his hair limp but completely dry-not a single drop of water on him.

Nothing like she had imagined.

He hunched slightly, head lowered. He glanced at her, then looked away again.

"Emily..."

Emily tilted her chin up, ready to deliver the speech she had prepared, full of scorn and righteous anger.

But before she could open her mouth, Carlos said, "Let's break up."

Emily,"...?"

"I love you, and I really wanted us to last, but this life is just too exhausting. I can't see the light at the end of the tunnel. Even dreaming about owning a tiny apartment in this city feels like a fantasy. I..."

"Wait." Emily snapped back, cutting him off. "What are you saying?"

"Emily." He frowned, gritted his teeth, and blurted everything out. "We need to be realistic! Her family isn't ordinary-her uncle drives a Rolls-Royce with a rare license plate. There's only one like it in all of New York City. Money, power-I want to skip the struggle and get to where I would be twenty years from now. I... I think we're better off as friends."

Emily nearly lost consciousness from sheer rage-she was one fingernail away from a heart attack.

So in the end, he dumped her before she could even speak?

"Carlos." Emily gripped the doorframe tightly, her tone icy and controlled. "Did you bring my phone?"

"Y-yeah."

He still didn't dare look her in the eye. He glanced quickly at her and handed it over.

Emily snatched her phone, took a deep breath-and then in one motion, kicked both the cardboard box and Carlos out the door.

"Who the hell wants to be friends with you?! Go be friends with your ancestors!"

--

The slam of the door echoed through the building. Emily leaned against it, still feeling the reverberations, patting her chest over and over to keep from fainting.

A moment later, she heard footsteps outside.

Despite herself, a flicker of hope stirred in her. Maybe Carlos had come to his senses?

She turned and peeked through the peephole-just in time to see Carlos carrying the box a few steps away, then crouching down and digging through it.

Inside were all the gifts he had given her-ceramics, trinkets, books, a bunch of random little things.

He rummaged for a while, then pulled something small out and stuffed it into his coat pocket.

Then he left the box behind and entered the elevator.

No way.

Emily blinked hard.

Had he just taken the one valuable item in that whole box-the gold brooch?

Rage surged like a tidal wave, obliterating any lingering sentiment. It shredded every rosy filter she had ever applied to their relationship. Even the most beautiful memories instantly turned to ashes, fanning the flames of her fury.

Emily collapsed onto the bed, punching her pillow over and over, but the image wouldn't leave her head.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Carlos looking like he was the wronged party.

She lay there, eyes wide open until dawn.

But she had only taken half a day off. In the afternoon, she forced herself to get ready and go to work.

Dump the scumbag, yes. But she wasn't about to lose her performance bonus.

--

"The Universe Bank interview's been pushed to next Thursday at three," said her editor Bella, not looking up from her computer. "But we'll need to change the angle. Get me a new outline as soon as possible."

"Okay."

Bella raised an eyebrow at Emily's lifeless tone. "This kind of stuff happens all the time. You've had a smooth ride so far, mostly thanks to your looks. You know how many reporters make ten calls and get five in meetings, three brushing them off, and two who 'aren't available'? If you're already discouraged, what about the future?"

"I'm not upset. Actually, I should thank Aiden," Emily said flatly. "Otherwise I wouldn't have found out my boyfriend-ex-boyfriend-was cheating."

"What? He's an ex now?" Bella seemed shocked, but by the end of her sentence, her tone lifted with delight, practically grinning.

Emily,"..."

"Oh dear," Bella tried to feign concern. "Was I too happy just now?"

Emily didn't bother reacting. "It's fine. Just gave yourself crow's feet from smiling."

Bella's smile froze. She turned back to her screen, muttering curses and massaging her eyes. "Told you that guy wasn't it. You could do so much better."

"And what kind of guy should I go for?" Emily muttered, the memory of last night flashing in her mind. "Someone with a Rolls-Royce?"

"Why not?" Bella handed her a file. "You're smart, attractive, have a good job, and a bright future. Why shouldn't you aim high?"

That bright future was actually Bella's long-term vision for Emily.

She had poached her from another publication, planning to make her the face of The New York Times.

Emily was a top journalism grad from one of China's elite finance universities, with solid skills and an unbeatable work ethic.

But most importantly, Bella thought she was beautiful.

Even in a serious industry, beauty was eye-catching. Combine it with education and capability? That was a royal flush.

She figured once Emily had a few high-profile pieces under her belt, The Times could push her further-making her a big name, a journalist who could walk through the finance world like it was her playground.

"Oh." Emily didn't want to argue. She glanced at the file. "What's this?"

"There's a finance summit this afternoon. If you're not dead, go chase down some leads," Bella said, waving her off. "And prep for next week's interview too."

That was the benefit of having a boss with no time for drama-Emily had no time to mope. She touched up her makeup and rushed out the door.

The summit was at the new financial center, out in the city's fourth ring. Remote, still under development, barely any pedestrians-just cars.

But the location wasn't unfamiliar to Emily. She had been here for interviews often. More than that-it was where Carlos worked.

She used to wait for him here, then they'd have dinner, watch movies, and grab her favorite dessert.

And so, out of habit, after the summit ended, she turned into the dessert shop.

By the time she realized it, the staff had already welcomed her warmly.

She picked up an egg tart-Carlos' favorite.

The yellow cheese was topped with two red grapes, which now looked exactly like Carlos's annoying face.

The shop assistant watched in horror as Emily stared at the pastry like it had murdered her family.

"Um... Miss?" the staff said nervously. "It's afternoon-buy one, get one free."

Before Emily could reply, the doorbell rang. The assistant went to greet the new customer.

Emily was still staring at the tart when a familiar voice came from behind.

She turned around sharply-and met Carlos's eyes.

Carlos froze. He stood at the doorway, unsure if he should go in.

Then he looked away and pulled the woman beside him closer. "Let's come back tomorrow."

Only then did Emily notice-he was holding hands with that woman from the hospital.

No shame at all?

Dumping her last night and parading around in public today?

"But I don't want to," Angela said. She'd seen Emily, but didn't intend to leave. "I'm used to this place. I can't go a day without it."

She walked over, took a whole box of egg tarts, and glanced sideways at Emily.

Her look said she knew exactly who Emily was to Carlos-but had no guilt. In fact, she looked proud, like someone who crashed a wedding and spit in the cake, then bragged about getting the whole banquet.

Emily's temples throbbed.

Fine. I'll take it.

She threw the tart down and left without a word.

But just as she stepped outside, something struck her. She turned and caught Angela giving her a triumphant smirk.

Then her eyes dropped-and landed on the golden brooch on Angela's scarf.

The very same brooch Carlos had taken from the box.

Emily's face stayed calm, but inside, it felt like a thousand burning coals were grinding against her chest.

She walked away, but a few steps later, she snapped.

She kicked a tree by the roadside.

The tree was terrified. It had never seen such an angry woman.

Head down, chest heaving, her cheeks burned with fury.

Cars honked. She turned her head slightly-and saw Carlos and Angela leaving the shop.

Carlos carried a dessert box. Angela held his arm, bouncing to the car like a toddler.

Did she just get out of a zoo?

Emily stared until her jaw hurt, then finally turned and walked away.

She didn't know what she was doing-not calling a cab, not heading to the subway.

She just wandered, step by aimless step, down the wide, empty road.

Eventually, the sky darkened. She stopped at an intersection, hoping to hail a cab.

But then her eyes caught something.

Across the street, parked under a dim light, was a car she couldn't ignore.

A Rolls-Royce.

The license plate-exactly what she'd seen last night. The one Carlos had called "a once-in-a-city" plate.

A thought flashed through her mind.

And with it, Bella's voice echoed:

"You're smart, beautiful, successful-why shouldn't you aim high?"

The cold wind lashed her face, but her thoughts boiled like lava.

It wasn't rational. It wasn't calm.

But within three seconds, Emily made a decision that would change the course of her life.

Some people, if you don't make them pay for what they've done, won't see you as graceful or wise-they'll just think you're a fool.

Want to skip twenty years of hard work?

So do I.

Want a powerful backer?

So do I.

Even if I can't make you pay, I'll make damn sure that one day, when you grovel before me, you'll have to respectfully call me Auntie.

Emily was already beside the car.

She looked at her reflection in the window and brushed her hair back.

Her face looked a bit tired-but maybe that was a new kind of allure. Less vibrant, but with a fragile, sorrowful grace.

She knocked on the window.

Nothing happened for a long time.

Just when she thought no one was inside, the window slowly rolled down.

At first, she saw just a pair of gold-rimmed glasses with anti-slip chains.

Then, slowly, the rest of the man's face came into view.

Emily muttered a silent curse.

No one forgets a face like that.

He was the man from the Warner estate last night-the one who offered to drive her home.

Angela might have looked plain as water, but her uncle?

Now that was a whole different story.The man didn't seem too surprised when the car window was tapped, only glancing over casually.

Although it was awkward, Emily didn't think it was entirely a bad thing.

After all, hadn't he shown some interest last night?

So, Emily bent down and softly said, "Sir, my phone's dead and I can't get a taxi. Could I borrow your phone to make a call?"

Aiden didn't even turn his head, just slightly tilted his face and gave Emily a sideways glance.

In their brief eye contact, Emily couldn't tell what he meant, so she decided to be bold and said, "Or, if you're willing, you could give me a ride."

Aiden stared at her for a moment.

His long, narrow eyes and the cold quality of his glasses effectively suppressed any hint of playfulness at the corners of his eyes.

A few seconds later, Aiden slowly turned his gaze away.

"My car doesn't give rides to women with boyfriends."

Emily,"...?"

The car then sped off right in front of her, racing toward the highway.