Rachel Foster clung tightly to Kingsly, savoring the warmth of his embrace and the subtle, pleasant scent of his cologne. She had never felt such happiness, and it was overwhelming.
"Why did you come back?" she asked softly.
He held her close, her legs straddling his lap, his chin resting on her forehead. A gentle smile played on his handsome features. "Didn't you want me to be with you?"
She pulled back slightly, her hands encircling his neck, and gazed into his gentle face. A small smile tugged at her lips.
His deep eyes met hers, and after a moment, he brushed her lips with a light kiss. "I've never seen you this happy before me."
She admitted, "I just had a nightmare, so... seeing you makes me feel at ease."
He raised an eyebrow, feigning displeasure. "So, if I hadn't returned when you had a nightmare, you wouldn't be surprised?"
"You're twisting my words..."
He nuzzled her cheek with his chin. "Then what do you mean?"
In a small voice, she confessed, "I'd be happy if you came back."
His smile widened, satisfaction evident in his eyes. He carried her into the bedroom.
Beside the bed, he set her down, his arms around her waist, gazing deeply into her eyes. "Did you miss me these past few days?"
She found it hard to meet his gaze, so she lowered her head, mumbling, "Do I have the right to miss you?"
He turned her face towards him, asking earnestly, "Why wouldn't you?"
She muttered softly, "I'm not your wife."
He chuckled, amused.
She helped him remove his suit jacket and loosen his tie, casually asking, "Is your wife feeling better?"
"Yes, the maid overreacted. It was a small cold, but she made it sound worse."
She glanced at him, thinking, You also "overreacted," flying across the country to be with her when she felt unwell.
He pinched her nose playfully. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
She shook her head. "I'll run you a bath."
...
In the morning, Rachel quietly lifted the covers but still woke him.
His arm wrapped possessively around her waist, his sleepy voice murmuring, "Why up so early?"
She removed his heavy arm and sat up, pulling on her underwear. "It's eight o'clock. If I don't get up, I'll be late for work."
He pulled her back down, his weight pressing over her, kissing her warmly. "Stay with me..."
Remembering how he kept her up until 3 a.m. despite his exhaustion, her face reddened, and she pushed him gently. "Stop... I'll really be late."
His voice, muffled against her chest, was slightly impatient. "Then don't go to work."
"I can't..."
"If I say you can, you can. I'm the boss."
Rachel, "..."
...
At noon, Rachel, still in her pajamas, leaned against the bathroom doorframe, glaring at Kingsly, who looked quite pleased as he shaved.
Seeing her, Kingsly glanced over. "Awake?"
Rachel bit her lip, cheeks puffed in anger.
Noticing her expression, Kingsly asked, "What's wrong?"
Rachel glared at him. "I was woken up by a call from Manager Ann."
"Oh... your direct supervisor?"
"Yes!!" Rachel stormed over to Kingsly accusingly. "He said I was absent without leave this morning, and I lost my monthly attendance bonus."
Kingsly chuckled.
Rachel cupped his foam-covered chin, complaining, "It's your fault! I lost my full attendance bonus this month!"
Kingsly set down his razor and wrapped his arms around her waist, laughing. "You're upset over that?"
Rachel huffed, "If I hadn't been absent today, I'd get the bonus. With that, I'd qualify for the quarterly bonus at the end of the year—lots of money!"
Kingsly's smile widened. "How much?"
Rachel thought seriously. "Over a thousand."
"Just over a thousand?"
Rachel lightly punched him. "I know that's nothing to you, but it reflects my performance at Titans Group."
Kingsly laughed, leaving the bathroom to grab a checkbook from the nightstand. He wrote a few numbers before handing it to her.
Rachel looked at the check-in in surprise. "What's this for?"
"To compensate you!"
"I didn't ask for compensation." Despite her words, Rachel happily took the check.
But in the next moment...
"Hey, what does a one followed by six zeros mean?"
Rachel looked at him, puzzled.
Kingsly lifted her chin, giving her a quick kiss. "Besides that thousand, the rest is a 'full attendance bonus' from me for your dedication in our... 'required course.'"
Rachel realized that this man didn't care about money at all. Clearly intending to give her money, he concocted a "private full attendance bonus" as an excuse; how ridiculous!
Wait!
Required course, required...
Could it be?
Rachel flashed back to a conversation with him from one night, and she looked at him bewildered.
He returned her gaze with an elegant smile.
Rachel's face turned red, then green, then purple...
She grabbed a pillow from the sofa and threw it at him.
Having lived at Westwood Apartments for over three months, Rachel had never encountered reporters outside. But today, as she stepped out of the elevator with Kingsly, they were met with a barrage of camera flashes.
A crowd of reporters swarmed forward.
Even when Rachel wore sunglasses, the flashes blinded her, making her unable to open her eyes...
Panicked, she hid behind Kingsly. "What do we do? Why are there so many reporters?"
Kingsly hadn't expected this either, but known for his calm composure, he frowned slightly, displeased.
"Mr. Scott, can we take a picture of your companion?"
"Mr. Scott, can your companion remove her sunglasses?"
"Mr. Scott, is your companion Miss Foster?"
"Is it Miss Foster?"
A series of questions bombarded them, and Rachel stayed hidden behind Kingsly, too scared to move.
Kingsly's bodyguards quickly arrived, blocking the cameras and clearing a path.
With a cold expression, Kingsly held Rachel's head down as they exited the apartment building.
A black car promptly pulled up at the curb.
Kingsly guided her into the car amid the reporters' pursuit, speeding away.
...
Rachel bit her lip in the restaurant, nervously watching Kingsly converse with Helen Hayes.
Kingsly, hands crossed on the table, his expression stern, his voice icy. "Find out which magazine started this. I want that magazine out of the entertainment industry by tomorrow."
Helen nodded. "Yes."
Kingsly waved her off. "Go handle it."
Once Helen left, Rachel asked, "Will we be the headline tomorrow?"
Kingsly opened the menu, glancing at her. "Are you scared?"
Rachel nodded vigorously.
A smile returned to Kingsly's handsome face. "What's there to fear? Other women would jump at the chance for such exposure."
"But I don't have their ambition."
"Oh?" Kingsly raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What ambition do they have?"
Rachel countered, "What do you think?"
Kingsly's eyes narrowed, amused. "Have you never thought about it?"
Rachel replied thoughtfully, "I know my limits. I won't chase unrealistic dreams."
Rachel noticed that Kingsly often smiled around her, a stark contrast to his serious demeanor with subordinates or friends. Yet, she never deciphered his smiles, like now, as he smiled again.
Lost in thought, Rachel didn't notice what Kingsly ordered. Midway through the meal, she suddenly felt nauseous.
Seeing her clutch her chest, Kingsly asked concernedly, "What's wrong?"
"I feel like throwing up..." She barely finished speaking before rushing to the restroom.
Kingsly watched her go, slowly setting down his utensils, a frown creasing his brow.
When Rachel returned, she found Kingsly calmly leaning back in his chair, a cigarette lit.
Rachel resumed her seat, asking, "Are you done eating?"
Kingsly flicked ash into the tray, glancing at her. "What happened earlier?"
"I'm not sure." Rachel glanced at her plate, suddenly realizing. "You ordered..."
"Did your period come on time this month?"
His emotionless voice interrupted her, leaving her speechless. Realizing his question, she looked at his expressionless face.
In the past three months, she'd never seen him so indifferent.
"Are you afraid I'll get pregnant?" For some reason, his sudden aloofness made her tone cold as well.
He stared at her. "Just answer me."
His cold voice made her shiver, her hand clenching her thigh under the table. She maintained her composure. "No... I'm not pregnant. My period came on time this month."
Kingsly pulled her hand at that moment, guiding her out of the restaurant.
...
Leaving the hospital, wrapped in Kingsly's jacket, Rachel still felt no warmth.
The driver respectfully opened the car door. "Miss Foster, please get in."
Rachel glanced at Kingsly in the car, hesitating briefly before climbing in.
Inside, she returned the jacket.
He noticed and pulled her to his side. "Are you upset?"
Rachel shook her head. "I'm not cold." She pulled away, gazing out the window.
Kingsly frowned, his tone slightly displeased. "You say you're not upset."
Rachel took a deep breath, turning to look at him coldly. "I don't understand why you don't believe me."
Kingsly replied calmly, "It's best to be sure of these things. I don't want complications."
His indifferent expression pricked her heart, and after a long pause, she spoke. "I thought after three months, you'd have some understanding of my character."
He offered no comfort, simply stating, "Don't take it to heart. I'm naturally suspicious."
"Even so, you should respect me, not drag me to the hospital for unnecessary tests."
He brushed it off. "Now we know you're not pregnant. Isn't that good?"
Her eyes began to sting.
Seeing her eyes red with frustration, he sighed, pulling her back to his side and gently soothing her. "Alright, don't be mad..."
She pulled away, and in the next moment, without hesitation, she opened the car door and stepped out.
...
Entering the sales department at Titans Group, Rachel felt lost.
Her colleague, Valerie, noticed her unusual demeanor and asked with concern, "Rachel, you don't look well today. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
Valerie, head lowered, apologized. "Sorry, I forgot to clock in for you this morning, and Manager Ann reprimanded you, docking your attendance bonus..."
Rachel lifted Valerie's chin, smiling. "Don't worry, it's not your fault. I just overslept today."
"Rachel, Manager Ann wants to see you."
Someone called out.
Valerie looked worried. "Rachel, is Manager Ann going to punish you again?"
Rachel patted Valerie's shoulder, heading to Manager Ann's office.
Rachel expected Manager Ann to question her about her unexcused absence, but he closed the door instead, grinning. "Rachel, sorry for the call earlier. My fault for not seeing your true worth."
Rachel stared in confusion.
Manager Ann quickly offered her a cup of coffee. "Helen just informed me that Mr. Scott overslept today, too..."
Rachel, "..."
"Miss Foster, if you oversleep in the future, feel free. I won't disturb you with calls again..."
...
Holding the cup, Rachel stood by the water cooler, lost in thought.
He intentionally informed Manager Ann about their connection, ensuring she was taken care of. Was this his way of making amends after their disagreement?
But this give-and-take approach only made her more uneasy.
She'd forgotten how intimidating he could be.
Their light-hearted three months together had almost made her forget this fear, but today's events were a stark reminder.
In truth, her nausea was from eating caviar.
She couldn't stomach caviar, and eating it made her nauseous. Distracted during lunch, she hadn't noticed he'd ordered it, leading to this misunderstanding.
Yet she should be grateful for the "misunderstanding," for it reminded her of his underlying disdain and distrust.
He needn't worry—she'd never considered having his child. She feared pregnancy more than he did.
Lost in thought, her phone rang.
Snapping back to reality, she answered the unfamiliar number. "Hello."
A refined voice, unexpected, came through—
"Hello, Miss Foster. I'm Luna Bennett, Kingsly Scott's wife. I wonder if you have time to talk."