Chapter 7 A Moment of Embarrassment
- At that moment, Erica, basking in the luxurious ambiance of an exclusive spa club, let out a long sigh before reaching for her phone to contact Hayley. The call with her mother had just ended, stirring up memories of their past schemes. Together, she and Hayley had once conspired to tarnish Anastasia's reputation and cast her out of the family circle. Now, Erica and Hayley share a bond forged in deceit. However, over the past two weeks, Hayley had grown mysteriously distant, and her once-thriving women's clothing store had abruptly shuttered. Erica's mind buzzed with curiosity about Hayley's sudden withdrawal.
- On the other end of the line, Hayley's voice answered with a casual drawl, "Hey, Erica."
- "Hayley, what have you been up to lately? Why did you close your store?" Erica's tone carried a hint of reproach.
- "Oh, I... I've been traveling. Is something wrong?" Hayley responded with a nonchalance that barely masked her anxiety.
- "Hayley, Anastasia has returned to the country," Erica blurted out, unable to contain the urgency in her voice.
- In the opulent confines of her villa, Hayley lounged on a plush sofa, attended by a cadre of attentive servants. Her world was one of indulgence and luxury, a far cry from the turmoil of her past. As Erica's words hit her, she dropped her phone in shock, the sleek device clattering onto the marble floor. She quickly retrieved it, her heart racing, and asked breathlessly, "When did she return? Why did she return?"
- "Why are you so nervous? Are you afraid of her?" Erica's voice took on a teasing lilt.
- "I'm not. I was just asking," Hayley retorted, struggling to maintain her composure.
- "My dad told me. I don't know what she's up to, but now that she's back, she might come after my inheritance and cause trouble for you, too," Erica speculated, her voice heavy with foreboding.
- A flash of malice ignited in Hayley's eyes. Why couldn't Anastasia have stayed abroad, far removed from her meticulously crafted life? The comforts and privileges she now enjoyed were all built upon the precarious secret she held over Anastasia, a truth that could never reach Elliot's ears.
- "Hayley, I'm afraid she might retaliate against me. Please keep me informed about her from now on so I can prepare," Erica pleaded, her voice tinged with desperation.
- "Sure, we'll handle her together from now on," Hayley assured, her mind already plotting.
- After hanging up, Hayley bit her lip, her mind swirling with thoughts. She now lived in a realm of opulence, every luxury at her fingertips, courtesy of Elliot's guilt and generosity. Yet, her greed knew no bounds; she yearned for more than mere material compensation. She harbored dreams of becoming Elliot's wife, of wielding influence and power alongside his vast fortune.
- Elliot, with his immense wealth and striking presence, could make any woman feel like the luckiest person in the world. She couldn't allow Anastasia to jeopardize her grand plans. Not even Erica could be trusted with her ambitions, lest jealousy drive her to betrayal.
- Hayley resolved to keep a vigilant eye on Anastasia and, if possible, find a way to remove her from the picture entirely.
- As the sun dipped below the horizon, Anastasia returned home, her heart lightened by the sight of her son. She prepared dinner in their cozy kitchen, the warm aroma of home-cooked food filling their small apartment. Her son, Jared, played quietly with his Legos in the living room, his innocent laughter echoing through the space.
- "Jared, would you like to visit Grandpa in a few days?" Anastasia asked, her voice soft and tender.
- "Yeah, I'd like to see Grandpa," the little boy replied eagerly, his big eyes sparkling with excitement.
- Anastasia's feelings were a tangled web of love and apprehension. She knew that Naomi and Erica would never welcome her son. She was determined to shield Jared from the harsh truths of their family history. To him, she would say he was born out of love, sparing him the pain of knowing the real circumstances of his birth.
- The next morning, after dropping off her son, Anastasia hailed a taxi to work. Bourgeois Jewelry Atelier, housed in a sleek, eight-story building in the bustling city center, stood dwarfed by towering skyscrapers. Despite its modest size, the brand had gained significant acclaim, particularly after being acquired by QR Group, which had skyrocketed its market value. In a month's time, Bourgeois Jewelry Atelier was set to participate in a prestigious domestic jewelry show.
- Several of Anastasia's exquisite collections had been chosen for showcasing, further elevating the brand's influence and prestige.
- Anastasia paid the taxi fare and stepped into the lobby, clutching a paper bag containing a hastily bought breakfast. She hurriedly nibbled on her bread as she walked towards the main hall, conscious of the ticking clock. Her son started school at 8:30 a.m., and her workday began at 9 a.m., leaving her perpetually racing against time.
- At the elevator entrance, Anastasia attempted to finish her breakfast before reaching her office, mindful of maintaining a professional demeanor. Just as she stuffed the last sizable bite of toast into her mouth, the elevator doors opened, revealing a strikingly handsome figure before her eyes.
- For a moment, Anastasia stood paralyzed, struggling to swallow the bread lodged in her throat. She tried to enter the elevator with as much grace as possible.
- "Morning," Elliot greeted, his deep, sultry voice sending a shiver down her spine.
- "Morning," Anastasia managed to reply, but the next instant, a sudden, involuntary burp escaped her lips.
- "Oops." The sound echoed embarrassingly in the confined space.
- Anastasia's face flushed crimson, a wave of mortification washing over her. To compound her embarrassment, the elevator had mirrored doors, reflecting her flushed cheeks and wide-eyed horror back at her. She clamped a hand over her mouth, but her body, rebelling against the hurried breakfast, let out another less-than-elegant burp.
- Elliot's intense gaze through the mirrored doors fixed on her, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. Anastasia endured his scrutinizing look, her mortification growing with each passing second.
- Finally, the elevator reached the sixth floor. As soon as the doors slid open, Anastasia squeezed out, her steps hurried and awkward.
- Elliot's usually stoic expression seemed on the verge of breaking into a smile.
- This girl is unexpectedly amusing.
- Back in her office, Anastasia quickly gulped down the water, hoping to quell her rebellious stomach. But the memory of that mortifying elevator ride lingered, stubbornly refusing to fade. Of all people, it had to be Elliot who witnessed her moment of embarrassment. He must be silently laughing at her.
- At 10:30 a.m., the department gathered for a meeting. Chief designer Felicia sat at the head of the table, her demeanor poised yet slightly tense. Her team comprised eight talented designers, including Anastasia.
- "Wait a moment, Mr. Presgrave will join us," Felicia announced, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness. The prospect of the company's big boss attending their meeting added considerable pressure.
- "Anastasia, do you know Mr. Presgrave from before?" Alice inquired, her gaze fixed intently on Anastasia.
- Anastasia shook her head, "I don't know him."
- "If you don't know Mr. Presgrave, why was he staring at you yesterday?" another female designer asked, her tone tinged with displeasure.
- "You should ask Mr. Presgrave about that," Anastasia replied smoothly, masking her inner turmoil.
- "Work is work; the company is not a place for romance or shortcuts. Remember that," Felicia admonished, her voice stern and authoritative.
- Alice cast a disdainful glance at Anastasia, viewing her as someone attempting to seduce Elliot to climb the social ladder.
- At that moment, the office door opened, and an enigmatic figure strode in.
- Elliot entered with a grace that commanded attention, taking his seat at the head of the table. His presence was magnetic, exuding an aura of effortless power and elegance. Seeing him, one couldn't help but feel the cruel inequities of life. He was a man endowed with wealth that could rival a nation's, a face so handsome it could provoke envy from the gods, a physique sculpted to perfection, an air of regal poise, and an aura of commanding authority.
- Such a man inevitably drew admiration and adoration from women. Even Felicia, usually composed and professional, quickly adjusted her hair, exuding the refined charm of a mature woman. Despite being thirty-five, she harbored a secret desire to catch Elliot's eye.
- "Let's begin," his voice, deep and mesmerizing, resonated through the room, succinct and cold.