I should’ve left earlier. But Mom needed reassurance—again.

“You sure you’re okay, Camilla? Are you eating? Not too stressed?”

I was adjusting my blouse in front of her mirror, trying to keep my tone even. “I’m good, Mom. Just nerves.”

She sighed, reaching over to fix a stray lock of my hair like she did when I was a kid. “It still doesn’t sit right with me… you working there like an intern when you should be—”

“Shhh,” I whispered, kissing her cheek. “Let me do this my way.”

I left her penthouse ten minutes later than I planned—and ten minutes made all the difference.

Traffic was a nightmare. By the time I arrived at Steel Corporation, I was nearly out of breath. I raced through the lobby, flashing my ID at the front desk, and sprinted toward the elevators.

The doors were just about to close—until I saw her.

Amber Green. Smirking.

“Hold it!” I called out, practically yelling.

She looked me dead in the eye—and pressed the close button.

The elevator shut in my face.

I clenched my jaw, fists tightening at my side. Classic Amber.

By the time I reached the 19th floor through another elevator, orientation had already started.

Everyone was seated in rows inside the glass-paneled conference room. I tried to slip in quietly, but Mr. Langston, the orientation manager, turned with a sharp scowl.

“Miss... Camilla, is it?” he barked. “You’re late. First impressions matter here at Steel Corporation.”

My cheeks burned as everyone turned toward me, including Amber, who gave me a satisfied smirk like a cat who’d just eaten her prey.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I said calmly, bowing my head. “Won’t happen again.”

He didn’t respond, just waved me to the last seat.

As soon as the presentation was over, I started packing up my folder when the devil herself slithered beside me.

“Ohhh, looks like I got in here too,” Amber said sweetly, leaning close.

I didn’t look up.

“And unlike you,” she continued with a low, fake laugh, “who seduced your way through the system, they called me. Said they overlooked my application and realized I was the best fit. Makes sense, right? I mean, I am better than anyone else here.”

That made me almost laugh. Of course she got a callback.

Because I told my mother to give her a slot. Because what better way to make her pay... than to let her think she’d won?

I turned slowly to her and offered a small smile.

“Congratulations,” I said, voice like ice wrapped in silk. “I’m sure you’ll make quite the impression.”

Then I walked away. Later that day, whispers began circulating across the workspace like wildfire.

“They say the Steel Corporation’s daughter is working undercover with us.”

“Wait, what? Like a real-life drama?”

“No one knows who she is. Some say it could be Amber—she looks the part.”

I nearly choked on my water at that one. Amber. As the heiress? Please.

I kept to myself, focused on my tasks—data sheets, internal reports, and onboarding materials. Nothing glamorous, but I took it seriously. I didn’t want anyone saying I had it easy.

During break, I slipped into a quiet lounge and answered my mother’s call.

“Are you okay?” she asked immediately.

“Yeah, just… playing the part.”

She chuckled softly. “Your father would’ve been proud, you know. Starting from the ground.”

“I hope so.”

We chatted for a while. She told me Harold was keeping things smooth on the board, and I told her I’d keep my head down a little longer.

Then, from the hallway just beyond the lounge—I heard something.

A sharp gasp.

A low moan.

Voices. Familiar ones.

My skin prickled.

I stood up, walked carefully down the corridor, and peeked behind a partially open office door.

And my stomach turned.

Amber. Pressed against the wall. Legs wrapped around someone. And that someone… was James. My fiancé.

They didn’t even care enough to hide it. Not a whisper. Not a lock. Not even guilt.

I pulled out my phone and hit record. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t shake. I filmed until I had enough. Then I waited.

A few minutes later, James walked out, shirt rumpled, lips stained faintly red.

And when he saw me standing there?

He froze.

“C-Camilla—hey, sweetie. What are you doing here?”

I tilted my head, smiling softly, like nothing had happened.

“Just taking a walk.”

He swallowed hard, trying to adjust his collar like it could somehow hide his sin.

“Oh, sweetie,” I smirked, leaning closer to check on his neck. “What’s this red mark in here?”

My arms were still crossed when he stepped closer, lips stained, collar creased. He had the audacity to smile.

“What’s that mark on your neck?” I asked, voice cold but casual.

James blinked, then rubbed his neck as if only now realizing it was there. “Oh. That? Mosquito bite. I stepped out to the emergency exit to get some fresh air and… you know how it is.”

A mosquito, huh?

I glanced at the pattern of red splotches—definitely not from a bug. Hickeys. Deep. Purposeful.

He didn’t even try to lie well.

Before I could respond, he quickly changed the topic.

“Anyway, we should go. It’s not good to be seen together too much here. Office dating and all… It’s not allowed.”

I didn’t say a word. Just nodded.

He exhaled in relief, clearly mistaking my silence for ignorance or forgiveness. “Let’s see each other later, yeah? Have a little date? Just the two of us.” He kissed my cheek like nothing happened and walked away, whistling.

I stayed behind, staring at the spot where he had stood, the back of my neck buzzing.

Later that afternoon, the conference room was filled. A meeting with upper management. Everyone was there—board members, senior staff, trainees, even Amber, who sat too close to James.

James, who had a position thanks to me.

James, who truly believed he’d earned it all on his own. I took a seat near the back. Out of sight, but not out of reach.

The room dimmed. James stood at the front with a clicker and smug confidence. "Today, I’ll present a strategy that’ll take our marketing to new heights."

I almost laughed. That strategy was mine.

Late nights in our old apartment. He’d complain about not understanding the numbers. I’d stay up making slides, organizing data, turning everything into bite-sized pieces he could present like they were his own.

I told myself it was love. That helping him made him happy.

But it wasn’t love. It was manipulation. And I was blind. I remembered the night I heard him talking to Amber on the phone—he thought I was asleep in the bedroom.

“So why haven’t you dumped her yet?” Amber had asked, laughing.

“Because she’s valuable to me. Once I’m promoted, I’ll dump her myself,” James said. “She’s clingy, but she’s useful—for now. Don’t worry, I’m all yours, and it’s not like the wedding will happen… I’m just giving her hope.”

After the meeting, James approached me, buzzing with excitement.

“Babe, they loved it,” he grinned. “You’re amazing. I need another favor. There’s this upcoming pitch—big promotion opportunity. I need you to do what you do best. Can you prepare it for me?”

I smiled. “Of course. I’ll take care of it.”

He kissed the top of my head and walked away like I was his assistant.

That night, I sat in my room, surrounded by notes and graphs, trying to convince myself to finish it—one last time.

Until I opened my phone and saw her.

Amber Green. A picture of her standing by the bay, the sky lit with fireworks behind her.

Caption: “Beautiful night with my favorite person.”

Then I clicked the video. She was giggling. Spinning the camera. And there he was—James—smiling at her, holding a drink.

My breath caught. So that’s where he went.

While I sat here, helping him build a career, he was out celebrating his lies.

I closed my laptop slowly. I didn’t cry. I didn’t rage.

I just… sat. Then I made a decision.

No more helping. No more excuses. No more playing.

The next morning, I didn’t go to the office. No texts. No explanations. By noon, James had called seven times. By 3 p.m., it was seventeen.

I didn’t answer as he kept on messaging me. I looked at his name flashing across the screen.

Then I hit block.

James didn’t stop calling. He messaged non-stop, desperate, angry, confused. I never replied.

I had already left the apartment. I was home—our real home. The mansion.

One of the staff told me James had gone berserk. He’d stormed into my apartment like a lunatic, trashed the place, screaming and cursing. There was even a video. Someone caught him on camera yelling how I’d ruined everything.

Because I didn’t help him, someone else got the promotion he wanted so badly.

It didn’t matter anymore.

Eventually, I picked up his call—just once.

“You ruined everything!” he spat the moment I answered. No hello. No “are you okay?” Just rage. “You’re just gonna disappear after everything I’ve done? You owe me. You have to fix this.”

I stayed silent.

“You’ve been seducing Harold Steel, right?” he added bitterly.

“What?” I muttered.

“That’s what people are saying. That’s how you got in. Might as well use him now. Make up for what you did to me.”

I couldn’t even breathe for a second.

“I’m not doing that,” I replied, voice steady.

“If you won’t, then we’re done!” he shouted and hung up.

That’s when I knew—without any doubt—James never loved me. He just needed me. But I didn’t care.

Two days later, the night of the banquet arrived. It was being held at the Skyview Grand, one of the most prestigious venues in the city—gilded chandeliers, polished marble floors, a string quartet humming in the corner. I walked in alone through the side entrance, wearing a sleek black gown, my hair pinned in soft waves. No staff badge. No name tag. Just another employee in the eyes of everyone else.

I kept my head high and my steps calm as I moved across the ballroom. Guests were arriving one by one—executives, board members, influential business families, all dressed in luxury and sipping champagne.

I stayed close to the walls, invisible but watching. Then I saw him—James.

He spotted me seconds later. His eyes flared. He abandoned the conversation he was in and stormed across the floor, jaw clenched, fury in every step.

“You think ignoring me makes it okay?” he hissed under his breath the moment he was close. “You’ve made a joke of me.”

“I’m here to work,” I said evenly. “Walk away, James. I’m done. You said we’re done. We’re quits now.”

But he didn’t.

“This is your fault!” he spat. “That promotion should’ve been mine. You had the chance to fix it!”

People nearby began to glance our way.

“This is your chance now,” he growled. “Make it right. Talk to Harold. Tell him I deserve it. Do something!”

His voice rose. Guests were starting to murmur. My fists clenched at my sides. But I didn’t respond. I didn’t even blink.

Then the doors opened. And everything stopped. Harold Steel stepped into the ballroom like the air itself shifted. All eyes turned. Conversations fell silent. The air buzzed with anticipation.

But he didn’t look at anyone—only at me.

And then he started walking. through the sea of suits and gowns. Right. Toward. Me.

James turned pale beside me. People stared—wide-eyed, whispering louder now. Harold stopped in front of me, his tall frame shielding me from the stares.

Then, calmly, deliberately, he reached for my hand and slid his arm around me. His voice, when he spoke, cut through the entire room.

“I’ve heard the rumors.”

Dead silence.

“I don’t know who started them,” he continued, “and I don’t care to find out. But let’s make one thing clear right now.”

He turned slightly, eyes scanning the room, landing briefly on Amber, who immediately looked away.

“This woman didn’t seduce me. She didn’t flirt, didn’t manipulate, and frankly—couldn’t seduce me even if she tried,” he said with the barest hint of a smirk.

The guests gasped. The word "couldn’t?" started echoing in confused whispers.

“She’s my cousin,” he finished simply.

The silence shattered into gasps and stammered disbelief.

Amber blinked in disbelief, stumbling back a step. “What? But she’s… she’s poor. She lived in some run-down apartment. There’s no way—”

And that was when the microphone clicked on.

My mother stood on stage, radiant in emerald green, her poise absolute.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she began, smiling like the proudest mother alive, “my daughter has chosen to remain quiet about her identity until now. She wanted to prove herself—not as my heir, but as a capable, hardworking woman on her own terms.”

Murmurs rippled across the hall.

“But tonight,” she continued, “I am honored to introduce the future of the Steel Corporation. My daughter—Camilla Steel.”