My boyfriend, Wesley Hawke, had been dedicated to me, but he insisted on breaking up as soon as his childhood friend, Rose Loring, returned.

On their wedding day, I crashed the event with another girl.

Wesley realized too late that the woman before him, Rose, was as venomous as a snake. That very night, he came to apologize. "Baby, I was wrong. Can we make up?"

The office door swung open.

There stood Wesley, tall and elegant at six-foot-three, with an aristocratic and scholarly air about him. His hair, neatly styled but casually tousled, fell partly over his forehead.

He wore a white suit that perfectly highlighted his refined aura.

"Hmm? You're still here?" He walked towards me.

Rose followed close behind, her laugh laced with sarcasm and disdain.

"I've been waiting for you, Wesley." I lifted my head to meet his gaze.

His eyes landed on my weary face, making me instinctively lower my head.

"What's wrong, baby? You don't look so good. If you're not feeling well, you should see a doctor."

I shook my head. "I think there's been a misunderstanding between us..."

Before I could finish, he pressed a finger to my lips, signaling me to hush.

I hadn't slept for two days and nights, and my lips were already cracked and dry. The unfamiliar yet soft touch sent a jolt through me, leaving me paralyzed.

He leaned in closer, grabbing my chin. I could feel his hurried breaths on my nose.

In a whisper, he said, "Wait for me at home."

His grip tightened, bringing tears to my eyes.

"Hey, did you hear? Wesley's childhood friend is back! Looks like Fiona Crowe will have to step down this time!" Laughter and chatter echoed from the hallway.

"Oh, there's going to be drama. The whole company knows how Fiona and Rose were at each other's throats in high school. If Fiona hadn't ganged up on Rose, she wouldn't have fled abroad for school. It's been the office's hot gossip."

"Wesley was about to marry Fiona, but now that the childhood friend is back, who knows what will happen? Fiona's still Wesley's assistant, she'll suffer."

"Hahaha, this is better than a movie! It's called karma!"

The chatter grew louder until a few people came face-to-face with us, "We're so sorry, Mr. Hawke, we didn't mean any harm."

Their expressions stiffened as they continually apologized.

"If it happens again, you're all fired."

Wesley waved them off.

Taking advantage of my distraction, Rose frowned and pushed me hard.

With the stairs right behind me, I stumbled, lost my balance, and tumbled down.

A sharp pain surged through me as I hit the steps, scraping my knees and elbows, drawing blood.

The group that hadn't gone far turned back, phones out, eager to capture my humiliating fall.

I shielded my face with my arm, dodging their cameras.

With a limp, I stood up, dusting off the dirt from my clothes.

Wesley stood on the stairs, not once extending a hand to help.

I felt like a cat plunged into the depths of the sea, gasping in vain for air.

My hair hung in disarray, my trembling legs betraying the turmoil in my heart.

"Go home first. I'll come after I finish here, and remember, watch what you say," Wesley commanded, ignoring my injuries. He pulled out his phone and called his driver to take me home.

Without another glance my way, he clasped Rose's hand and walked out of the corridor.

The vast hallway echoed with the sound of my quiet sobs.

Just after graduating from college, I sought employment at FaciGroup through a friend's introduction.

The first time I saw Wesley, he was sitting quietly as the interviewer for that season's recruitment. His deep-set eyes and chiseled features exuded an air of noble elegance. His thin lips had a subtle, pale pink hue.

At that time, I didn't know about his relationship with Rose.

After successfully joining Faci as an intern, Wesley became my direct supervisor. He paid special attention to me. Reserved by nature, I wasn't someone who loved to talk or laugh, preferring instead to bury myself in my work.

Many nights, when I worked late, a cup of coffee or a midnight snack would inexplicably appear on my desk. Occasionally, there'd be a small note: "Great job, but don't forget to take care of yourself." It was always signed by Wesley.

His extra care inevitably made me wonder if he had feelings for me.

One night, I worked overtime until midnight. Wesley emerged from his office, standing by my desk, gently tapping his knuckles against the table, creating a crisp sound.

I looked up suddenly; he was holding two portions of a late-night snack.

He smiled softly and said, "It's so late, you must be hungry. I just grabbed these from downstairs. I hope they're to your liking. Just make do."

Under the overhead light, he looked incredibly gentle, almost angelic.

Flustered, I shook my head, trying to say I wasn't hungry, but my stomach betrayed me with a loud growl. My face flushed red, and I nodded meekly.

I made space for him, and there we had our first meal together at my desk.

"Still a lot to finish?" he asked, as I was hungrily digging into the pasta. I realized his gaze was fixed on me, and I froze.

My posture and demeanor grew awkward.

"Ah, almost done. I was just unfamiliar with the processes before, but I'm getting the hang of it now," I replied, touching my burning hot cheeks, too nervous to look him in the eye.

He laughed softly. "Then let me help you finish. Feel free to ask me if you have any questions."

A lifelong singleton, I had little understanding of romantic feelings between men and women. Yet, gradually, I couldn't control the wild beating of my heart whenever he was near. Late nights at work became less burdensome and even something I began to look forward to. Wesley's presence filled me with excitement.

Life seemed to go smoothly. After my three-month internship, I became a full-time employee, and Wesley and I officially became a couple.

My colleagues all envied my dual success in love and career. I always believed we would continue this way, just like any other couple: meeting the parents, getting married.

But then, Rose—whose very name cast a shadow over my thoughts—reappeared in my life, and everything changed...

Six months later, a new hire joined the company, rumored to be a beauty. Wesley told me she was his childhood friend, their families long-time business partners. She had just returned from studying in Italy.

"She's back in town tonight. Let's all have dinner together," Wesley suggested.

I felt a wave of nerves sweep over me, as if I were about to meet his family. My mind ran through countless hypothetical first encounters.

As the restaurant door opened that night, in walked a beautiful woman with large, wavy curls, dressed in a burgundy cocktail dress, her heels sparkling with diamonds. She exuded fashion and elegance.

Rose Loring walked towards me with an elegant stride.

The moment I saw her face clearly, my pupils involuntarily dilated, and I could hardly breathe. It was her... the nightmare that had haunted my high school years. After all these years, misfortune was about to strike again.

"Rose, come over here, sit right here," Wesley waved, patting the seat beside him.

"Oh right, let me introduce you. This is Fiona, a new assistant who recently got her promotion." Wesley presented me like this.

Throughout the meal, I couldn’t taste a thing. Cold sweat continuously formed on my back. It might have been my imagination, but I felt a sharp gaze piercing through me, never leaving for a moment.

Eventually, I made an excuse, telling Wesley that I wasn’t feeling well and needed to leave. That night, I received a message from him:

"I know what you did to Rose. Hand in your resignation letter at my office tomorrow."

Just one line, yet it stung my eyes like a burning blade.

The next morning, I went to the office to submit my resignation. As I was about to leave, someone from HR stopped me.

"You need Wesley's signature on this resignation letter. He’s waiting for you in his office."

"Don’t others just..."

I stopped myself, sighed, and decided to go to his office.

Inside, Wesley was quietly sitting in front of his computer, looking the same as before, except for the new hint of disdain in his eyes. I placed my resignation letter in front of him.

"Do you have anything to say?" Wesley’s tone was full of annoyance.

My mind went blank. "No…"

From the start, he never intended to believe me, so what was the point of saying anything?

I waited for him to break up with me. Maybe then, I could forever escape Rose’s grasp.

Through the glass window, Rose smiled at me, walking towards me with an eerie grin. She mocked my average looks, subtly insulted my less-than-sexy figure, and every jibe was a show for the surrounding crowd’s amusement.

As she passed by, Rose deliberately poured her freshly-brewed coffee all over me, then widened her eyes, feigning shock.

"Oh, I’m sorry, Fiona! I didn’t mean to! Don’t be mad, okay?"

She sat down in front of me with an air of victory, crossing her legs and humming a cheerful tune.

My shirt was soaked, droplets of brown liquid trailing down. My shoulders and teeth trembled with anger. Enough was enough.

I raised my arm high, ready to slap Rose. But reality arrived faster than my hand. Wesley grabbed my wrist and forcefully pushed me away. He stood in front of Rose like a righteous protector.

"Now you know what it feels like to be bullied? Being doused with coffee isn’t so different from being splashed with chili oil, is it? What, you can’t handle it either?"

Outside, people had already gathered, whispering and straining to eavesdrop on the scene within. Within the office, everyone knew what was happening, but no one dared to intervene.

"Wesley, I don’t want to see her. I’m so scared. Can you make her leave, please?" Rose’s voice turned coy as she clung to Wesley’s arm.

"Don’t worry, I’m here. She won’t get the chance to hurt you like before." Wesley stroked her hair affectionately.

My eyelid twitched. This version of Wesley was completely alien to me.

Turning around, his handsome face remained impassive. He looked at me with a cold, distant gaze. "You should go now."

"I…"