Elsie dropped her gaze, but her voice stayed steady—even as she spoke such provocative words. "Looks like your body's betraying you, Kingsley."

It was the first time Kingsley had ever felt himself losing control like this around a woman.

He caught her wrists, pinned them above her head, and pulled her close until their bodies pressed flush together. "A physical reaction is just a reflex. Nothing more."

In that moment, Elsie felt her anxiety melt away. "They say you're practically an ascetic—untouched by temptation. And yet here you are, reacting to me."

"All right, then. Since you seem to want this, I'll play along," Kingsley said.

He lifted Elsie out of the tub, carried her out of the bathroom, and tossed her onto the bed.

She was right. For the first time, his reaction to a woman was undeniable. He'd assumed it was just the aftereffect of the drug from the night before. But today? There was no mistaking what his body was doing.

Especially with Elsie's alluring figure right in front of him, his blood seemed to race through his veins.

He kissed her lips, her neck, leaving a trail of heat along her skin.

"Hold up," Elsie said, stopping him at the last second. "We're missing something. You wouldn't want an accidental baby, would you?"

To Kingsley, she was a cunning woman. Why would he ever want to start a family with her?

Sure enough, her words snuffed out his passion like a bucket of ice water.

Elsie sat up, leaned in close to his ear, and whispered, "Why not save this for another time?"

Her teasing words drew a fresh reaction from Kingsley, but Elsie was already out the door.

Her mentor had taught her well: keep a man wanting, never fully satisfied. Keep him craving, and you'll keep him close.

Kingsley's frustration was palpable as he finally gave in to the urge for a cold shower to cool down.

People often said he was stoic, seemingly untouched by emotion. But with Elsie—that mix of innocence and cunning—he couldn't keep his composure. There were moments he wanted nothing more than to grab her and shake some sense into her.

Back in her room, Elsie changed into fresh clothes and studied the marks on her neck in the mirror. A pang of guilt hit her for using such tactics, but the memory of her father's agonizing final moments fueled her determination—grief and fierce resolve tangled together.

The next morning, Elsie came downstairs in a high-neck blouse and casual pants, her hair pulled back—simple and practical.

The high neck hid the marks from the night before. She wasn't hiding them, exactly; she just didn't want to worry her mom.

Kingsley sat at the table with Rachel, eating breakfast in quiet contemplation. Rachel, older but still wary of Kingsley's presence, found it hard to relax.

"Good morning, Mom." Rachel's eyes lit up at Elsie's greeting, her smile warm. "Morning, Elsie. Join us for breakfast."

Elsie nodded, sat next to Rachel, and glanced across the table at Kingsley. "Good morning, Mr. Reynolds."

Kingsley ignored her, keeping up his indifference, but Elsie seemed unfazed.

Rachel noticed the exchange, her heart tugging with sympathy for her daughter.

After breakfast, Kingsley left for work without another word.

Elsie gave Rachel a few instructions before heading to J.C. International.

She hailed a cab, and it arrived promptly.

When she reached the office, she was about to contact Kingsley, but found his assistant, Jaxton, waiting for her at reception.

"Miss Gomez, Mr. Reynolds assigned me to guide you through orientation."

Elsie nodded, smiling politely. "Thank you, Mr. Schmidt."

Wasn't the Gomez heiress supposed to be unruly and arrogant? Jaxton wondered, noting her unexpectedly courteous demeanor.

He walked her through the formalities, introduced her to the company, and showed her around the executive floor so she could get familiar with operations.

Jaxton assumed she'd need time to grasp the complexities of the business, given the rumors about her incompetence. To his surprise, she had it all down within two hours.

"Miss Gomez, if you need anything, just ask."

"Thank you," Elsie replied, nodding slightly.

She could sense Jaxton's curiosity, probably fueled by the rumors Liana had spread—stories that painted Elsie as talentless and bad-tempered, built on selectively edited footage of her defending Liana.

But without the original footage, Elsie had no way to clear her name. Her family had treated Liana with kindness, only to realize they'd been nurturing a traitor.

Thinking of Liana's betrayal reignited something fierce inside Elsie.

"Miss Gomez, here's this quarter's report and the budget for a new project. They need reviewing before Mr. Reynolds signs off," the head secretary said, handing her the papers.

"Understood," Elsie said, bracing herself for the demanding tasks Kingsley had set for her—a test meant to intimidate her.

The head secretary watched her calmly accept the challenge, noting Elsie's quiet determination. Following orders, she kept her distance.

Elsie started cross-checking the numbers. She quickly spotted discrepancies among the figures and realized she'd need to verify the entire spreadsheet to correct them. Pulling data from a quarterly report isn't easy, especially since reports like this rarely contain errors. She knew this wasn't an accident. It was deliberate.

Once the data was sorted, Elsie took the documents and knocked on the CEO's office door.

Jaxton opened it, surprise flickering across his face when he saw her.

"I have documents for Mr. Reynolds to sign," Elsie said.

Jaxton stepped aside.

Elsie walked to Kingsley's desk and set the papers in front of him. "Mr. Reynolds, here are the quarter's report and the new project's budget. They need your signature."

In work mode, Elsie seemed transformed—efficient, focused.

Kingsley glanced at her and took the documents.

When he noticed her corrections, a flicker of admiration crossed his deep-set eyes.

"Mr. Reynolds, there were errors in these reports. I made the necessary adjustments."

One error could have been accidental, but the second—the budget sheet—was deliberate. The total budget still looked fine, yet the decimal points were off, a detail easy to miss without a careful eye.

"All right," Kingsley replied, signing the papers.

"Uncle!" A familiar voice called from the doorway.

Elsie's body went tense instantly.

Kingsley instinctively glanced at her, sensing the shift.

Fabian Cooper...

Elsie clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms.

Elsie's mind was a storm of memories—Fabian Cooper conspiring with Liana Roberts to drive her father to despair, to his tragic fall, and then forcing her and her mother out of their home. Fabian's arrogant, ruthless nature was burned into her very soul.

Her clenched fists betrayed the turmoil inside her. Her nails dug into her palms, yet she felt nothing.

"Uncle, I need to—" Fabian's voice faltered when he spotted Elsie. "Elsie? What are you doing here?"

The cold anger wrapped around Elsie melted away. Her face turned innocent, untouched by any hint of malice. Her presence made Fabian uneasy.

"So you know Miss Gomez, Fabian?" Kingsley's voice cut into Fabian's thoughts.

No. He couldn't let his uncle uncover his dealings with Liana.

"Of course I know her. She's the Gomez heiress, isn't she? Uncle, you may not keep up with society gossip, but she's notorious. Word is she's arrogant, self-centered, thinks she's above everyone else, and she's about as cunning as they come."

Kingsley nodded, as if agreeing with that last part. Elsie didn't so much as flinch. She knew those labels had been crafted by Fabian and Liana.

"What are you doing here?" Fabian demanded.

Elsie's lips curved into a faint smile. "I'm Mr. Reynolds's personal assistant now."

"What?" Fabian's disbelief was almost comical. "Uncle, is this true? How could you let a manipulative woman like her be your assistant?"

"Are you questioning my judgment?" Kingsley's tone went ice-cold. Fabian's mouth snapped shut.

"Fabian, you said you only knew of her. So why do you sound so familiar with her?" Kingsley pressed.

"I—" Fabian stammered, scrambling for words.

Elsie glanced at Kingsley. She knew he wasn't defending her. Kingsley had always played by his own rules. Even when he was wrong, he'd never admit it—especially not to someone beneath him. He was just reminding Fabian who held the power.

"What did you come to see me about?" Kingsley asked.

"I—" Fabian hesitated, his gaze sliding to Elsie.

Taking the hint, Elsie cut in. "Mr. Reynolds, I'll step out now."

She left, closing the door softly behind her.

...

Fabian was waiting for Elsie when she came out of the restroom. She'd expected this. Almost wanted it.

"Elsie, why are you cozying up to my uncle? What's your angle?" Fabian demanded, anger sharpening every word.

Elsie smiled sweetly, light and breezy as a spring morning. "Obviously, to get back at you."

The word revenge rolled off her tongue as casually as if she were discussing dinner plans. It caught Fabian off guard, though he recovered quickly.

With a derisive snort, he retorted, "Cozying up to my uncle to get back at me? Have you lost your mind? He's my uncle. What do you think you'll gain from that?"

His words only widened Elsie's smile. Slowly, she undid the top button of her shirt.

"Elsie, what are you doing? Trying to set me up? There are cameras here," Fabian warned, suspicion creeping into his voice.

Elsie calmly angled her neck, revealing the love bites there. "See these? Your uncle left them yesterday."

Fabian's eyes went wide.

Impossible.

"Who would've guessed?" Elsie chuckled, sarcasm dripping from every word. "Your uncle may seem passive, but behind closed doors? He's anything but."

In that moment, there was nothing innocent about her. Her face and her spirit seemed like two different people—as if something else had taken hold of her.

"Shut up," Fabian snapped, his anger spiking.

"Want me to show you the video? Think you can handle watching it?" Elsie taunted, stepping closer.

Fabian instinctively stepped back, as if her presence alone was suffocating him.

"And a word of advice—disrespect your elders, and trouble has a way of finding you."

With that, Elsie walked away.

"Elsie, what do you mean? Explain yourself!" Fabian's furious voice echoed behind her. She didn't bother looking back.

She wanted to provoke him. Anger made people reckless—made them sloppy. That was exactly what she needed.

Still, she wondered why Fabian had come to J.C. International today. He'd grown up under the Reynolds family's roof, always trailing after Kingsley, yet he'd never been trusted with any real responsibility at the company. Not even a junior position. His own small business was floundering, and it had recently merged with the Gomez Group, which he now co-managed with Liana.

So his visit today probably wasn't just about seeing Kingsley.

"Come in."

The deep voice cut through Elsie's thoughts. Only then did she realize she'd been standing at the elevator for who knew how long.

"Come in. I won't say it again," Kingsley's voice commanded.

Elsie turned toward the private elevator and stepped inside. When the boss called, you answered.

As the doors slid shut, Kingsley moved closer. In the cramped space, there was nowhere to retreat—not that Elsie wanted to.

"Are you in such a hurry, darling?" Elsie teased, placing a hand on Kingsley's shoulder and leaning in. Her smile was playful, flirtatious.

Kingsley caught her hand in a tight grip and pressed her back against the elevator wall. "I seem incapable, do I?"

Elsie wasn't surprised he knew about that. A company his size? There were cameras everywhere. Letting her into J.C. International was probably just his way of keeping a close eye on her.

"I said it seems that way. I never said you were incapable."

He couldn't argue with that.

Kingsley leaned in closer. "Have you forgotten our agreement?"

"I only said we've been together. I never said we got hitched. So technically, I haven't broken any promises." Her expression was innocent, though she avoided meeting his gaze directly. Kingsley's presence was overwhelming, and truth be told, he intimidated her. But her hunger for revenge burned hotter than any fear.

"Darling..." Elsie's voice softened to almost a whisper, laced with a seductive charm that caught Kingsley off guard for half a second. In that split second, Elsie leaned in and captured his lips with hers.

Kingsley snapped back to the present, but before he could let his anger loose, Elsie was already backing away. “Mr. Reynolds, the elevator’s reached the ground floor. I’m assuming you don’t want anyone seeing us tangled up like this.”

“And if anyone gets the wrong idea because of you, that’s on you,” she added with such innocent sweetness, as if she were the one being taken advantage of.

Kingsley’s outstretched hand hung in the air, frozen for what felt like an eternity. Frustration flushed his face—first pale, then red. He was astounded to realize how thoroughly this woman had disarmed him.

Ding! The elevator doors slid open, and Elsie stepped out with her head high. It took Kingsley a beat to pull himself together and follow, his expression cool and detached once more, as if nothing had happened between them.

Outside the office building, Elsie slipped into a quiet corner. Her legs finally gave out under the tension, leaving her unsteady. She braced herself against the wall and dragged in deep breaths until her pulse settled.

Whispering to the memory of her father, she vowed, “Dad, don’t worry. I’ll clear your name. I’ll make sure justice is served.”

“Ms. Gomez.” Jaxton approached, respectful yet curious.

Elsie nodded. “Yes, Mr. Schmidt. What is it?”

Jaxton paused, momentarily thrown by the contrast between her polite composure now and the fire she’d just shown. “Mr. Reynolds is waiting for you. Titus Reynolds has invited you both to the family estate.”

“Understood,” Elsie replied, following Jaxton to the waiting car. She’d already expected Titus would want to meet his new granddaughter-in-law sooner rather than later.

“Please, Ms. Gomez,” Jaxton said, opening the car door for her.

“Thank you,” Elsie said with a polite nod and slid into the seat beside Kingsley. The car’s interior was chilly, a sharp contrast to the warmth outside, and she couldn’t help but shiver. She didn’t dare look at Kingsley; after their earlier run-in, she knew his mood was as icy as the air.

Kingsley sat beside her, quietly battling the tangle of emotions she stirred up. He didn’t understand why she made it so hard to keep his composure—especially when she wore that innocent expression so convincingly.

“Elsie.” His voice dropped, cold as a blade. “When we get to the house, keep it brief. If you screw this up, I’ll personally make sure you’re out as fast as you came in.”

Elsie smiled sweetly, her face the picture of innocence. “Don’t worry, Mr. Reynolds. I know what to say—and what not to say.”

That smile, paired with that sweet, seemingly genuine face, was disarming. It made it almost impossible to connect her to the cunning she’d just displayed. Almost. But Kingsley remembered. He stayed wary.

At the Reynolds estate, Kingsley got out first and strode inside, Elsie trailing behind. The grand manor was a little worn around the edges, but every bit as luxurious as any other mansion.

Inside the sprawling house, only Titus lived year-round. Kingsley visited when he could. His sister—Fabian’s mother—dropped by now and then, but Kingsley was the sole heir to the Reynolds legacy. Titus had raised him after his parents died. Compared to most families, the Reynolds history was simple: no secret children, no step-relatives lurking in the wings.

“Grandpa, we’re here,” Kingsley called out. His usual cold demeanor softened in a way it rarely did, proof of the deep bond people whispered about between grandfather and grandson.

“Welcome back.” Titus greeted them warmly, his eyes lighting up when they landed on Elsie. “And is this my granddaughter-in-law? Elsie?”

“Hello, Grandpa,” Elsie said sweetly, all charm and grace.

In Kingsley’s mind, it was an act—another one of her calculated moves.

Titus studied her, then smiled with clear approval. “Wonderful. Wonderful.” He was already taken with her.

“Grandpa, this is our first time meeting, and I wasn’t sure what you’d like,” Elsie said, pulling a neatly wrapped package from her bag. “So I brought you a little gift. I hope it’s to your liking.”

Kingsley watched, a flicker of surprise cutting through him. He hadn’t expected her to think of that.