The next day, upon arriving at our company, I notice Eric waiting in front of the gate, his posture tense and his expression unreadable.
What is he doing here?! He just ended his engagement with Cathy yesterday! The thought confuses me.
Approaching him with a mix of annoyance and curiosity, I ask, "What are you doing here? You called off your engagement with my sister. We have no connection now," while trying to keep my cool.
He gazes at me intently. "She isn't worthy of being your sister. I need to talk to you seriously. Please come with me."
"Where?" I inquire skeptically.
"There's a nice restaurant nearby. I'll give you a ride. We can talk freely there," he says earnestly.
After a moment of hesitation, I instruct Rachel to go to the office while I accompany Eric to the restaurant. Curious about what he has to say, albeit unsure if I want to hear it.
Eric guides me to a VIP cabin on the top floor of the restaurant. The ambiance is pleasantly surprising with soft piano music in the background, creating a soothing atmosphere.
As I take in the elegant decor and gentle lighting, my irritable mood begins to lift slightly.
Suddenly, I feel a touch on my hand. Eric grips my hand firmly, looking straight into my eyes.
A wave of discomfort washes over me. Since that incident at our farewell party, I can't tolerate the touch of the opposite gender. I feel repulsed; every fiber of my being rejects the touch of any male. Instinctively, I slap his hand away, my heart pounding.
He groans, a mix of frustration and surprise on his face. "I'm not your would-be brother-in-law anymore. I'm a free man. And I never liked Cathy. She's so pretentious. My family and your father decided on that engagement. Our joint project depended on it, so I had to agree. I never even held her hand, you know? Where's my fault in this? Do you really believe those nasty rumors? They come from women who have been rejected by me before. They're absolutely groundless. But you can't even tolerate my touch! Do you hate me so much?"
I feel a surge of irritation at his words. I don't want to get into a discussion about his past or his feelings. "You wanted to talk. Just tell me what you want. I'm not interested in your history. Don't cross the limit," I reply, my voice firm.
"Exactly what is my limit?" he counters, his expression shifting to one of determination. "I'm a single man, you're a single woman. I approached you; what limit did I cross? I just genuinely like you."
"What?" I ask, taken aback by his sudden confession.
"I like you, Samantha Smith," he says, his voice steady and sincere. "I first noticed you when I saw you at your office, completely engrossed in your work. You spoke to your subordinates with an air of nobility while interacting with senior officials without putting on airs. You are neither arrogant nor submissive; your elegant aura attracts me like a magnet. I went to your office and talked to you. Your innocent yet cold temperament pulls me deeper into this quagmire of love. Yes, I don't just like you; I love you by now."
As I listen to Eric's confession, I become stupefied. I take a deep breath, trying to process everything he has just said.
His words hang in the air, heavy with emotion, but I don't feel any flutter in my heart because he means nothing to me.
When Xavier confessed his feelings, my heart beat madly, racing with emotions I couldn't quite ignore. His touch, his kiss, I didn't find unbearable; rather, they ignited a fire within me that I couldn't extinguish. I realize again how much I love Xavier.
Huh, my poor angel heart has fallen for a mere mortal! What a sin!!!
Now, what about Eric? He looks at me with those puppy eyes, filled with hope and longing. It's almost painful to see.
"I'm sorry, Eric. I can't reciprocate your feelings. I already love someone," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
"I know you're single," he replies, a hint of desperation creeping into his tone.
"Loving someone doesn't mean you must be in a relationship. I have my circumstances. But I assure you, I'm telling the truth," I explain, hoping he understands the weight of my words.
"Who is he?" he presses, his curiosity evident.
"I won't tell you that. It's my personal matter," I respond firmly, drawing a line that I hope he won't cross.
"I'll never give up on you. I broke my engagement for you," he declares, his voice filled with conviction.
"That's your choice," I say, feeling a mix of sympathy and frustration.
"I know. But I must have you. I love you that much," he insists, his eyes pleading.
"But I don't. Can't you respect my choice?" I ask, my patience wearing thin.
"That's a funny thing to say. Can't you reciprocate my feelings?" he challenges, a hint of disbelief in his voice.
"You're hopeless. Goodbye," I say, turning away, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders as I walk away from the conversation.
I return to the office alone, my mind heavy with thoughts. What is wrong with these guys? They all like to act domineering, as if my feelings are something they can control. How dare they assume that I owe them anything?
But as the evening settles in, I receive a notice from Jones that sends me into a panic. They want to withdraw from our joint project, a collaboration in which we have invested so much time and resources.
If they really do, we will bear an unimaginable cost that we can't afford. What the hell! How can they do this?
I will sue them. We will talk in court, I think, my mind racing with rage.
But I know in my heart that's not possible. The Jones family is more powerful than us Smiths. They have connections in both legal and illegal areas, and they wield their influence like a weapon in every sector.
We can't win against them. The thought of our company collapsing under the weight of this betrayal fills me with dread.
But I have to do something. I must save our company. I can't let it fall into ruins under my watch.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the battle ahead. I will gather my team, strategize, and find a way to navigate this treacherous situation.
I refuse to let fear dictate my actions. I will fight for what is right, for my company, and for the future of Samantha Smith.
At this moment, Eric calls me. This bastard… He wants to marry me. The thought sends a shiver down my spine. If I accept his proposal, he'll resume the project.
He's fucking crazy, and yet, he traps me perfectly in this web of his making.
Now, what can I do? I spend the entire night trying to borrow money from our other business partners or secure loans from any bank in our country.
But due to the threats from Jones, nobody wants to help us. The fear is palpable; they all know the consequences of crossing him. I feel utterly helpless, trapped in a situation that seems to have no way out.
Then I think I'll leave this body soon. Because of me, the real Samantha Smith lies dormant in this body, her soul stifled and waiting for release. When I leave, she'll have to catch up with this life, and I can't help but feel a pang of guilt.
It will be hard on her. If Eric genuinely loves me and marries me, in the future, he'll support her. In my case, I can leave shortly after the marriage. My spirit is almost completely merged with the fragment.
I'll take some time from Eric under the excuse of marriage preparation. It's a perfect cover. I can arrange everything properly for the real Samantha and then depart on the day of our marriage.
Even if he suspects something after my departure, he won't be able to explain it. He'll think, at most, that my personality has changed. And then, even if he doesn't love Samantha anymore, he can't do anything about that. The thought gives me a sense of relief.
Firstly, he breaks off his engagement with my sister, and then if, just after the marriage, he wants to abandon Samantha, his family won't tolerate this. They must maintain their reputation in society, and I know that will weigh heavily on him.
So I'll accept his proposal, but make it clear that the marriage will be held after one year. This gives me time to set everything in motion.
In the morning, I call Eric and tell him my decision. His voice is filled with joy, and he is so happy that he doesn't think twice about giving me one year of time. I can almost hear the excitement in his tone.
But I know what this means for me; I must go on dates and attend various parties with him. He'll hold a grand engagement party after one month, and I can already feel the pressure mounting.
I have no other choice but to succumb to his whims. I remind myself that this is all part of the plan. I have to play the role of the happy fiancée, all while secretly preparing for my departure.
The thought of it fills me with a mix of dread and anticipation. I know I'm walking a tightrope, but I have to do this for Samantha. She deserves a chance at life, and I will do everything in my power to ensure she gets it….