### Chapter 3

A face I would know even if it were burned to ash.

My father's mistress. Vera Baxter.

She was dressed in custom Louis Vuitton, the bracelet on her wrist and the necklace at her throat all limited-edition pieces. Her well-kept face was as polished as ever, barely changed in over twenty years.

Her gaze finally settled on my stomach. Her mouth curled, and she smiled with cheap contempt.

"So you're the boss of the Youngs? The woman who got herself knocked up before marriage. No shame at all."

Yuki shot up out of her chair, ready to tear into her. I pressed her back down.

Vera dragged over the chair beside me, crossed her legs, and sat like she was here to inspect her own territory.

"I'd like to see just how much nerve you've got, turning down my daughter."

I smiled and took my time before I lifted my eyes.

"Mrs. Baxter, I never expected to hear the word 'shame' come out of your mouth. I can tell you've had a very comfortable life all these years."

Her expression shifted.

"What did you say?"

She sat there with a sour face, sizing me up for a long moment.

Clearly, she didn't recognize me.

The year I turned seven, she was the one who talked Frank Barrett into throwing me into the orphanage.

That winter was bitterly cold. The bed was broken, the blanket thin as paper, and I often lay awake shivering. The staff gave us one meal a day, cold and half-spoiled. The other children ganged up on me, pulled my hair, pinched my arms, locked me in the bathroom the whole night through.

I curled up in a corner and burned with fever, crying out for my father until I passed out. No one ever came.

A few days later, Vera turned up in the director's office. I pressed myself against the windowsill and watched her push a thick envelope across the desk.

"Make sure that little brat suffers as much as possible. Do as I say, and you'll get ten thousand a month, every month. Not a cent short."

After that, my meals got smaller and the beatings got worse. And I never called out for my father again.

Now I was the chairwoman of a multi-billion-dollar empire. How could she ever connect this young, beautiful woman in front of her to that scrawny, pitiful girl?

I leaned back in my chair and slowly curved my lips.

"So what does Mrs. Baxter want with me?"

"Since you're calling me Mrs. Baxter, then you know exactly where I stand."

She arrogantly picked up the red wine on the table, not bothering to ask whose it was, and swirled it as if it were hers.

"My Serena is a Barrett heiress. Her even looking twice at your little company is doing you a favor."

"She's got real talent, of course, but she's still new. Give her a supervisor's position for now, and in a few months bumping her up to manager should be about right."

She said it as though it were the most natural thing in the world, like telling her housekeeper what to buy at the market tomorrow.

It made me laugh.

"And what exactly is she worth?"

The elegance cracked off her face in an instant. "What did you say?!"

I folded my arms, every word clear.

"I said Serena Barrett isn't even fit to fetch my shoes."

Crack.

The glass in Vera's hand hit the floor, red wine splashing everywhere.

She stood up, her sharp nails almost jabbing into my face.

"You ungrateful little thing! You think my husband couldn't crush you with one hand?"

"If he finds out you insulted his daughter, he'll make you pay for it, and then some!"

I looked at her furious, ugly face and suddenly wondered whether she'd worn this same vicious, hideous expression the day she ran my mother down, over twenty years ago.

"Go ahead and try."

My nails dug into my palm. I tipped my chin toward the two waiters at the door. "Throw her out."

They moved in at once, taking her by both arms and hauling her toward the exit. "Please forgive us. Ms. Young is our SVIP guest. No one can afford to offend her."

"How dare you! Do you know who I am!"

Vera was beside herself. Everywhere she'd ever gone in her life, she'd been fawned over and catered to. When had anyone ever thrown her out?

### Chapter 4

After her screaming faded, I sat back down in my chair.

My best friend asked, worried, "What if Frank Barrett really comes after you?"

I took a sip of water, thought for a moment, and called Assistant Salazar back in.

"Dig into Serena Barrett again. Beyond the affair with my husband, I want everything on her."

That evening, the moment I got home, I was pulled into a burning embrace.

"Honey, why the long face?"

John Farley rested his head on my shoulder.

A thick wave of perfume hit me at once, exactly the same scent Serena Barrett had been wearing that afternoon.

Nausea rose in me, and before his lips could touch my cheek, I pushed him off and went into the bathroom.

John followed me in, wrapped his arms around me from behind again, and chose his words carefully.

"I heard you fired the Barrett heiress?"

I paused, watching his fake-gentle expression in the mirror. "And?"

He knit his brows, all concern.

"I know you hate that Chairman Barrett betrayed your mother back then and abandoned you. But the child is innocent, isn't she? And I've heard Serena Barrett is a rare talent."

"I'm saying this for your own good. If Chairman Barrett gets angry, the Youngs will take a hit."

I stared steadily at that handsome, familiar face. Those eyes were deep and captivating; there'd been a time when one glance from him could turn me to jelly.

Now they were so foreign they made my skin crawl.

"John, are you really saying this for my good, or for Serena Barrett's?"

His expression shifted, then quickly smoothed over.

"Baby, of course it's for you." He rubbed my head, helpless. "Just don't take it too far. If it blows up beyond fixing, that does neither you nor the Youngs any good."

I almost laughed.

Saying it was for my good, when how was it any different from a threat?

Two days later, after a meeting ended, I got an unexpected call.

"Girl, it's Frank Barrett. I'm giving you one last chance. Hire Serena as a manager at the Youngs, or don't blame me for being ruthless."

After all these years, that voice I knew down to the bone still made every breath ache.

But his imperious tone pulled a scoff out of me.

"Chairman Barrett, you think far too highly of yourself. The Barrett Group is on its way down. What do you have left to fight me with?"

"What did you say?!"

Frank flew into a rage, almost roaring. "Fine. Very good! You think I can't crush one little Young empire?"

With that, he sent over a batch of photos.

Shot at hidden angles, they showed me going in and out of hotels and high-end clubs, talking intimately with different people.

My brow furrowed.

Frank sneered. "Don't get worked up. The show's just getting started." Then he hung up.

I'd barely gotten home that night when my secretary's call came ringing like a death summons.

"Chairwoman Young, this is bad. Check what's trending, quick!" She was frantic the second she spoke.

I sat down on the couch and opened my browser. Several glaring items sat on the trending list.

#Young Chairwoman Slept Her Way to the Top

#Unwed Pregnancy, the Father of Jennifer Young's Bastard a Mystery

Marketing accounts everywhere were posting bedroom photos of me and shots of me going in and out of hotels, swearing up and down that at thirty I owned a ten-billion-dollar company purely by being some older man's mistress.

Then came another wave. Post after post claiming the Youngs' technology was all a hollow shell, that we only knew how to market and swindle money. The push was fast and vicious, and the comment sections had already fallen.

My secretary was nearly in tears. "It's bad, Serena Barrett is livestreaming!"

I opened the link she sent. Serena sat in front of the camera, face drawn, flipping through a stack of project reports.

"These are the projects I worked on during my internship at the Youngs. I stayed up till dawn every day for them, made the company millions. And Chairwoman Young fired me with a single 'you're not qualified,' no reason at all."

Her eyes reddened, her voice cracking.

"Later I found out Chairwoman Young treats every pretty, capable woman like this. Meanwhile she's hired a whole crowd of men who are good-looking and nothing else, whose competence is questionable at best."

My secretary was shaking with fury.

"That's nonsense, we've only ever hired on ability!"

"Chairwoman Young, what do we do? Several investors are saying if this isn't handled fast, they're pulling their funding!"

Before I could say anything, John Farley strode in from outside.

"Baby, everyone out there is saying you bully new hires, that your private life is a mess…"

### Chapter 5

He sat down and pulled me into his arms, brows drawn tight. "Young stock is going to take a beating tomorrow. That's more than a decade of your work on the line."

I stared at him, and something in me went cold.

He was the one who'd leaked those private photos of me, and he actually thought that blurring the background meant I wouldn't recognize our own bedroom.

John kissed my forehead.

"Here's what we do. You hold a press conference, apologize to Serena on a livestream, and sign her to Young Group. I'll handle the PR from there. It'll all blow over."

I didn't want to look at his fake tenderness a second longer. I dropped my eyes and pulled up a small smile.

"You're right. I should do a livestream."

Only it wouldn't be an apology. It would be showing everyone exactly how they'd slandered me and dragged the Young name through the mud.

"I'm glad you've come around." Something pleased flickered in John's eyes, and his voice went soft with promise. "Once the baby's here, we'll have the wedding right away. The whole world will know you're carrying the Farley heir, not some bastard child."

I closed my hand around the silver flash drive Landon had given me and said nothing.

The livestream was set for two days later.

The next day, I went in for the abortion. I ran my hand over my empty stomach and felt something hollow out in me too.

My voice came out rough. "I'm sorry, baby. I hope you find your way to a family that loves you with everything they have."

A nurse came into the room, her face full of envy.

"President Farley is so good to his girlfriend. The pregnancy was barely confirmed and he'd already given her a ten-carat diamond ring. He says he's throwing an island wedding."

Serena's coaxing voice drifted in from the hallway.

"The baby's so lucky, having a father as good as you."

The man I knew so well laughed, his voice doting down to the bone.

"You and the baby are my whole world, of course. Your father and I have it all arranged. When the time comes, we'll teach that woman a lesson she won't forget—"

The tenderness that had once been mine alone was now a blade turned against me.

I looked down at my bare ring finger, thought of how he'd promised me the most beautiful diamond at our wedding, and slowly started to laugh.

John Farley, how long do you get to be happy? You seem to have forgotten you have severe low sperm count.

In the middle of the night, the mattress dipped behind me, and a large hand gently smoothed my hair.

"Sweetheart, I'll be away on business for two weeks starting next week. Take good care of yourself and the baby. Don't make me worry."

Business trip, or a honeymoon with her? It didn't matter anymore.

When the sun rose again, I got in the car headed for the press conference.

The livestream hall was already packed with reporters, paparazzi, influencers with tens of millions of followers—over a hundred people, all craning their necks in anticipation.

Frank Barrett and his family sat in the front row. John had tucked himself into a hidden corner, thinking he was well out of sight.

My secretary spotted me and hurried over, her voice tight with worry.

"Chairwoman Young, I hear a lot of the media here today have already been bought off by the Barretts. The hit pieces on you are ready to run. Maybe we should—"

I cut her off.

"What is there to be afraid of."

At seven years old I'd already learned that cowering only makes the bad ones bolder.

Seeing how firm I was, she could only nod and give me a little fist of encouragement.

I'd barely sat down when the livestream screen lit up.

The woman on the screen wore a sharp business suit, her stomach hidden behind the desk, nothing out of the ordinary to see.

She had a face that was sixty, seventy percent her mother's.

I looked at her and let a faint smile through. Mom. It's been over twenty years. Today I'm setting things right for you.

The host opened his mouth, and every word came barbed.

"Chairwoman Young, Miss Barrett interned at your company and turned in outstanding work, yet you insulted her—told her she 'wasn't fit to shine your shoes.' Are you jealous that she's younger and more talented than you?"

"And I understand you grew up in an orphanage. Is that why you've transferred your missing father's love onto so many different men?"

He'd barely finished when Serena's tears spilled over below.

"I never wanted to fight anyone. I only ever wanted to be recognized for my own hard work."

"Is it just because I come from a happy family, because I'm reasonably pretty, that I'm guilty in Chairwoman Young's eyes and deserve to be bullied?"

The room exploded in an instant.

"This Jennifer Young has such rotten character. Can't stand another woman outshining her. Disgusting."

"Look at how brazen she is—now you know how Young Group really got where it is. A company run by a mistress who had a mother to bear her but no one to raise her. I call on everyone to boycott!"

"Her private life is such a mess she doesn't even know who the father is, and she still has the nerve to sit up there?"

Frank Barrett and Vera Baxter turned to look at me, both wearing the smug expression of people waiting to watch me squirm my way out.

The host, sensing the mood had peaked, turned to me again.

"Chairwoman Young, what do you have to say to everyone's doubts? Or is it that you really do have something you can't bring yourself to make public?"

Every camera fixed on my face at once.

Under their gleeful, show-watching stares, I gave Landon a nod.

The next second the livestream screen cut abruptly to a snow-swept street.

In the dark, a car came barreling into a pregnant woman at the curb.

The moment the driver's face flashed across the screen, the smugness drained clean off the Barretts' faces.