Chapter 2

The camera zoomed in.

Dominic Gilbert and Natalie were standing shoulder to shoulder, their bodies almost pressing against each other.

He leaned in, whispering something that made the corners of Natalie's lips curl upward.

A genuine, radiant smile broke across her face.

"Ms. Henson smiled!" a junior employee gasped.

"I've been here three years and I've never seen her smile like that. That's rare."

"Well, it's Director Gilbert. Tall, handsome, loaded. Even an iceberg like Natalie Henson has to melt eventually."

I stared at the high-definition screen. Was this the same woman I knew?

Her aloofness was legendary. Within the corporation, she was untouchable. Even senior executives kept a respectful distance when reporting to her.

Yet there she was, leaning into Dominic, intimate and open. From a different angle, it would have looked like they were about to kiss.

I used to think Natalie's rules were absolute laws of nature.

Then Dominic Gilbert arrived, and I realized her rules only applied to me.

I remembered my first month as her assistant. A minor formatting error on a report sequence.

She had looked at me with eyes like shattered glass.

"You might think this is trivial," she had said, her voice devoid of warmth. "But by my side, there is no room for error. If this happens again, draft your resignation letter before you leave."

But when Dominic joined the group and spilled coffee all over a stack of critical financial statements?

She hadn't even frowned.

"Be more careful next time," she had said softly. "Have finance redo it."

Dominic was the definition of a 'princeling'—the son of a major board shareholder. Shoehorned into the company and promoted to Deputy Sales Director in under a year.

He flirted with Natalie openly, undressing her with his eyes in meetings. Ignoring professional boundaries. Touching her shoulder. Guiding her by the small of her back.

Behaviors that Natalie would have fired anyone else for were suddenly natural when they came from him.

If not for Dominic, I would never have known that Natalie was capable of being gentle.

Or shy.

I couldn't watch anymore. I turned my back on the screen and walked out of the building.

I drove to the new house. *Our* new house.

Freshly renovated. I stood in the living room, remembering the day I brought Natalie here to approve the design.

"What do you think?" I had asked, eager as a puppy. "Does anything need changing? If you don't like the color, I'll have the contractors redo it immediately."

She had stayed for less than five minutes, checking her watch the entire time.

"Whatever," she had said, turning to the door. "Handle it however you want. I won't be living here anyway."

But when Dominic moved into his new penthouse, Natalie took a full day off work.

She, who loathed shopping, spent hours at the mall with him. Personally selecting his furniture. Debating curtain fabrics. Curating his space.

My gaze swept over the silent, pristine room.

This was supposed to be a home.

Now, it felt like a tomb.

My eyes landed on a framed photo on the wall—Natalie and me. In the picture, her expression was stiff, forced. Compared to the radiant smile I had just seen on the lobby screen, the contrast was a cruel joke.

I grabbed a cardboard box. Walked over to the wall. Ripped the photo down. Tossed it into the box face down.

After packing the few personal items I had left, I called a real estate agent.

"Mr. Simmons? You just finished the renovation," the agent said, confused. "If you sell now, you're going to take a massive loss."

"Sell it." My voice was flat. "The faster, the better."

I hung up and continued packing.

My phone buzzed. A message from Natalie.

*【9:30 PM. Come to the Winston Hotel. Pick up Dominic and me.】*