2

Warren Sinclair and I fell in love at first sight on campus. We dated for three of our four years in college, and our romance was the envy of everyone.

As graduation approached, we broke up, just like most college couples, pulled apart by different hometowns, dreams, and ambitions.

Of course, I was the one who initiated the breakup. The reasons were complicated—a mix of internal and external pressures that finally came to a head.

Due to family matters—my mother's poor health—I chose to find work in my home province after graduation so I could easily return to care for her whenever needed.

In three years, I went from a junior assistant who did little more than serve tea to a project director. Only I know the blood, sweat, and tears it took to get here.

The car sped along, pulling up to the entrance of a luxurious hotel twenty minutes later.

My boss led me into the lobby, and I spotted Warren Sinclair in a nearby crowd at a glance.

He stood tall and slender, with refined, handsome features. His profile was a dead ringer for an A-list celebrity, and he exuded an air of elegant modesty with every gesture. It was impossible to ignore him.

With his hands in his suit pockets and a faint smile playing on his lips, he walked straight toward my boss, not sparing me so much as a glance.

After the two exchanged brief pleasantries, my boss introduced me to Warren Sinclair.

"President Sinclair, this is my most capable director, Yana Lennox. She'll be the primary person in charge of this collaborative project."

I extended my hand with a professional smile. Warren Sinclair paused for a second before slowly taking his own hand out to meet mine.

"Long time no see!"

I could hear the sarcastic bite in his tone, but I put on a bright, bubbly act and cheerfully mentioned our shared past as classmates.

Warren Sinclair smiled, but his eyes were ice-cold. "I was under the impression Director Lennox had forgotten all about the past. But business is business, and our personal history is just that. The two shouldn't mix."

My boss choked and broke into a violent fit of coughing.

I moved to pat his back, but Warren Sinclair beat me to it.

When he thought no one was looking, my boss tugged on my sleeve. I got the message loud and clear: he wanted me to do whatever it took to butter up Warren Sinclair and secure the partnership.

"President Sinclair is absolutely right. We succeed on our own merits, and we would never mix that with personal history."

Hearing this, my boss nodded in agreement, apparently satisfied with my response.

"President Sinclair, you and Yana should exchange contact info. It'll make communication easier."

As if afraid I wouldn't get the hint, my boss turned his head and gave me a pointed wink.

'Honestly, I have absolutely no interest in Warren Sinclair anymore.'

He, on the other hand, kept trying to subtly pry into my past, asking my boss leading questions.

When the dinner ended, thanks to my boss's awkward maneuvering, Warren Sinclair and I ended up in the same car.

We were caught in the evening rush hour when the driver suddenly slammed on the brakes. I lost my balance and pitched headfirst into Warren Sinclair's lap.

He froze. I was mortified.

: The Revenge Begins

3

Warren Sinclair's lips curled into a beaming smile. "Well, well. It's been two years since we broke up, and it looks like you're still not over me."

I pushed myself back into my seat, adjusted my posture, and forced a cold smile.

"You're overthinking things. 'A good horse doesn't go back for old grass.' Surely you've heard that one before?"

Warren Sinclair shook his head. "All horses eat grass."

'He's so confident. Does he really think I'd get back together with him?'

I kept telling myself, 'The project is what's most important. Don't get into a childish argument with him.'

"Your silence is an admission of guilt."

'Boss, it's not that I'm trying to start trouble. I tried to hold it in, I really did, but I just couldn't.'

Just as I was about to speak, my boss in the front seat, suddenly sobering up, stuck his head back to mediate. "Don't fight. Whatever the misunderstanding is, can't we just talk it out and resolve it?"

I replied, "President Yates, you wouldn't understand."

Warren Sinclair added, "You don't know the whole story."

Our boss replied, "So I should just shut up, then?"

I didn't want to bring up that humiliating memory again. It would be like rubbing salt in the wound.

"Warren Sinclair, you're shameless."

His chest heaved with anger. "Me, shameless? Yana Lennox, who's the one who's really heartless?"

"Me, heartless? When you sprained your ankle playing ball, I ran through a downpour to get you medicine. *I'm* the heartless one?"

"Heh. You didn't seem so 'heartfelt' when you were breaking up with me."

My boss turned back around, looking at me pitifully.

"Yana, you two are arguing so much you're making me sick! URRRGH—"

A pungent smell instantly filled the car as my boss waved his hands apologetically.

"Sorry, I drank too much tonight and couldn't hold it in."

...

The car was Warren Sinclair's, the driver was from a designated driving service, and I was the one who paid for the car wash.

When I heard that familiar female voice announce, "Payment received..."

'My wallet ached.'

The very first day I see my ex again, and I'm already playing the sucker.

...

As it turned out...

Warren Sinclair's revenge on me had only just begun.

The next day, he rejected the proposal I'd spent a whole week of all-nighters on. When I asked why, he said it "lacked creativity."

The day after that, he said he was going on a business trip and asked me to feed his dog.

It was the same stray we had found when we were dating. Its name: Valentine.

Because we had made our relationship official on St. Valentine's Night.

It had been three years, but Valentine actually still remembered me. Its tail wagged happily as it sniffed around my feet.

I gave the dog a bath, took a picture, and sent it to Warren Sinclair.

"Good job!"

?

'I worked my butt off all morning just to hear those two words?'

"President Sinclair, about the proposal?"

"I'm looking at the proposal. It's full of mistakes. It's obvious you didn't put your heart into it."

"Be honest, President Sinclair. Are you targeting me?"

"I'm training you!"

'Is there a difference?'

I knew it. Now that Warren Sinclair was The Almighty Client, he definitely wasn't going to let me off the hook.

...

Seeing how dejected I was, my boss came over to offer some well-intentioned advice.

"Yana, girls need to learn how to play cute. Fighting fire with fire... not many guys like that."

His words were a wake-up call. 'Right, Warren Sinclair responds to a soft touch, not a hard hand.'

4

At the arrivals gate, I held up a huge sign with "Warren Sinclair" written on it and gazed toward the exit.

Soon, a dapper Warren Sinclair appeared, striding confidently while talking to his assistant.

'My boss's expectations are ringing in my ears. For the project, for the money... Let's do this, Yana Lennox!'

"Warren Sinclair!"

When his confused gaze met mine, I immediately changed my tone and called out to him softly, my voice as delicate as a whisper.

"Honey, I've missed you so much!"

As Warren Sinclair stared in continued shock, I struck a coquettish pose and threw him what I believed was a shy, flirtatious wink.

"President Sinclair, and this is...?"

The assistant asked, eager for gossip.

Warren Sinclair stumbled, momentarily speechless. Then, his gaze instantly turned sharp and cold.

"Less talk, more work!"

He then turned to me, his expression icing over. "Yana Lennox, what stunt are you trying to pull now?"

'Hah.'

'I spent two hours getting all dolled up to pick him up. What else could it be for?'

"Darling, you've been away on business for so long. You must be craving my cooking. I have everything ready at home."

I took the opportunity to link my arm with his, my tone impossibly gentle and soft.

"Let's go home, okay?"

Warren Sinclair immediately capitulated. He said through gritted teeth, "Fine, Yana Lennox. I'm curious to see what game you're playing."

I suppressed the urge to gag and plastered a perfect, eight-toothed smile on my face.

As I opened the door, Valentine rushed over and leaped onto Warren Sinclair. I hurried into the kitchen, tied on an apron, glanced at the list of dishes written on the cutting board, took a deep breath, and poured the oil into the pan.

Five minutes later, choking on smoke with tears and snot streaming down my face, I stumbled frantically into the living room.

Warren Sinclair had just taken off his suit jacket. Two buttons on his white shirt were undone, offering a tantalizing glimpse of his chest.

My vision started to blur, and the thick smoke that had wormed its way into my throat made me cough uncontrollably.

Warren Sinclair handed me a glass of water, a smirk playing on his lips as he began to tease me.

"Yana Lennox, if you want to get back together, it's not entirely out of the—"

'Get back together?'

I raised my eyebrows and shook my head repeatedly, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I could think.

"You're getting ahead of yourself!"

"..."

Warren Sinclair's expression instantly soured. He grabbed my wrist, a cold, mocking sneer on his face. "Yana Lennox, so these are the tactics you use to land clients? Hah. I'm learning so much today."

'Even I wasn't dense enough to miss the meaning behind his words.'

A flash of anger ignited within me.

'I cook for the first time in my life, and I do it for him, only for him to mock me.'

"Warren Sinclair, you'd better not be so ungrateful! Are you going to eat this food or not?"

"I'm eating!"

"..."

'I really wanted to ask him one thing: Have you no shame?'