Turning his head to look at Lyla Hunt, Marcellus West was now sure he wasn't imagining it. The person before him truly resembled his long-lost love, so much so that it was uncanny. His thin lips parted slightly as he issued a clear, straightforward command.

"Let's go to the office."

Lyla blinked in surprise and excitement. "Are we going to West Enterprises?"

"Yes," he answered.

This was it—her job was secured! Lyla struggled to remain composed. "What position do you have in mind for me, Mr. West?"

Marcellus allowed a hint of a smile to touch his lips. "I happen to need a secretary."

Marcellus's deep gaze lingered on Lyla's face. The resemblance wasn't just striking; she looked exactly like the woman who haunted his dreams for years. It was bizarre, and keeping her close seemed the best way to uncover the truth.

Sitting poised, Lyla spoke with confidence. "Mr. West, you have a keen eye. I'm perfect for the role of executive secretary. I'm charming, hardworking, and always follow instructions to the letter."

Restarting the car, Marcellus asked casually, "What's your name?"

Lyla paused, caught off guard. Did he really not know? It seemed Marcellus West hadn't paid much attention to his rival, Westley Grant. They say you should know your enemy.

With a smile, though her heart was pounding, Lyla introduced herself, "Mr. West, I'm Lyla Hunt. Lyla like the breeze—gentle yet undeniable."

There was no immediate reply. Marcellus appeared focused on driving, though internally, he was far from calm. She looked exactly like his lost love.

The car eventually came to a stop at West Enterprises. Meeting Marcellus's deep, dark eyes, Lyla's heart skipped a beat. Had he realized she was Westley Grant's wife and decided to back out?

Her eyes shone with urgency. "Mr. West, I finalized my divorce with Westley Grant yesterday. We're no longer connected."

"I need this job desperately," she pleaded. "If you give me this chance, I promise I'll excel."

"In the whole city, you're the only one willing to hire me."

Marcellus frowned slightly at her words. Seeing his furrowed brow, Lyla felt even more anxious. She had to seize this opportunity to become Marcellus West's secretary, no matter what.

Rummaging through her bag in a rush, she handed Marcellus her divorce papers. He examined them closely and, without returning them, asked in a serious tone, "How long were you married?"

Lyla hesitated, then replied, "Two years."

"And why did you divorce?"

Without hesitation, Lyla covered her side where her kidney was. "Westley wanted me to donate a kidney to his beloved, and I refused. That's when I saw his true colors and decided to leave."

Hearing her words, Marcellus's hand clenched into a fist as emotions surged within him.

Lyla felt a sudden chill, and she swore earnestly, "Mr. West, I promise I won't reconcile with Westley or betray you."

After what seemed like an eternity, Marcellus nodded slightly, his voice cool. "Come upstairs to finalize your employment."

Lyla was momentarily stunned but quickly nodded. "Thank you, Mr. West."

In her eagerness, she forgot about her aching knee and hurried along. Their entry procedures concluded smoothly, and Marcellus handed her a tube of ointment.

"Thank you, Mr. West."

"You should take some time to heal before starting work," Marcellus advised, but Lyla hastily shook her head, waving her hands.

"No need, Mr. West. I'll start tomorrow."

He didn't insist, merely giving her a thoughtful look. "Very well. Ezra, please show... Ms. Hunt out."

Marcellus almost slipped into calling her by his lost love's name. Ezra Simpson appeared just in time to inform Lyla that her bicycle had been repaired and was ready for use.

In high spirits, Lyla left West Enterprises, riding her bicycle more carefully this time. As she was enjoying the ride, her phone rang—it was an unknown number.

"Hello, who's calling?"

"Ms. Hunt, could you come to the hospital? Edgar's medical fees have been stopped."

It took a moment for Lyla to find her voice. "I'll be right there."

Edgar Hunt, her twin brother, had been in a coma since a car accident three years ago, and their father had been covering his medical expenses. At the hospital, Lyla quickly learned that Edgar's medical account was now empty. Without additional funds, the hospital would cease treatment, and Edgar could slip from temporary unconsciousness into a permanent coma.

Pouring all the money she had into Edgar's account, Lyla realized her financial situation was dire. Without the supplementary card from Westley, her savings amounted to less than a thousand dollars.

At that moment, Lyla regretted focusing on her relationship rather than her career. But it didn't matter now—she had secured a new job.

Standing before her family's mansion, she rang the bell and waited. When a servant finally opened the door, she hurried to the living room, where she found her father, stepmother, and stepsister.

Without preamble, she demanded of her father, "Why did you stop funding Edgar's medical care?"

Instead of answering, her father scrutinized her with displeasure. "Did you really divorce Westley?"

Gulping nervously, Lyla straightened her back at the recollection of Westley's kidney demand. "Yes, I did. He wanted me to donate a kidney to his beloved, and that's unacceptable."

Lyla confidently believed her father would support her decision, given his past kindness. But his cold, piercing gaze indicated otherwise.

"Compared to your brother's medical needs and our family business, a single kidney means nothing."

Lyla was prepared for disappointment, but hearing those words still stunned her.

"Don't blame your father," her stepmother, Khalani, chimed in soothingly. "Since your divorce, all our deals with Grant Enterprises have been terminated."

Recovering her composure, Lyla realized why Westley had been so arrogant at the registry. He'd predicted she'd come crawling back.

"You want Edgar to continue treatment? Reconcile with Westley," her father stated bluntly.

Lyla reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "I'll never go back to him."

Her father snapped back, "Then I won't pay another cent for your brother's care."

Khalani quickly interjected, "Darling, don't be hasty. If Lyla won't reconcile with Westley, we still have Anastasia."

"Mrs. West adores Anastasia. She'll soon marry Marcellus West. As his wife, our business will thrive through partnership with West Enterprises."

Lyla watched her father's demeanor melt into delight as he clasped Anastasia's hand. "Anastasia, once you marry Marcellus, I'll transfer shares of the company to you."

Eyes wide, Lyla grabbed her father's arm. "Dad, are you crazy? Edgar and I are your real children; she has no blood ties to you."

Khalani had brought Anastasia into the family, and she was a year older than Lyla.

Her father's disdainful look was that of seeing a useless rag, while Khalani and Anastasia appeared serene and content.

Then, Lyla heard her father's voice cutting through her thoughts. "Since you won't remarry Westley, there's something you should know. Anastasia is my biological daughter."

"You..."

Lyla staggered back, collapsing onto the floor.

Khalani gazed down at her, her voice velvety. "Now you understand. It was your mother who tore us apart, so she was the other woman."

Lyla Hunt found it hard to accept the truth. She quickly picked herself up and tried to shove Saige Murray away. But her father was there in an instant, steadying Saige.

"My mom could never have been the other woman. You've been in cahoots to deceive her. Without my mom and my grandfather, Hunt Group wouldn't even exist today," Saige Murray was fuming, his finger shaking as he pointed at Lyla, his voice trembling with rage.

"Stop talking nonsense. Hunt Group reached its heights because of my remarkable foresight and skills," Saige quickly shifted to a placating tone, saying, "Honey, don't get upset. Lyla's just venting in anger."

Lyla stared intently at Edgar and Saige, a suspicion slowly building within her that perhaps the car accident three years ago, which killed her mother instantly and left her brother in a coma, might be tied to her father and Saige. Edgar, feeling her penetrating gaze, grew impatient and snapped, "Anyway, until you remarry Westley, I won't provide any more medical support for your brother."

Edgar had already given up on her brother's treatment if not for Lyla's persistence. It seemed ridiculous to keep hoping for a miracle recovery after three years of unconsciousness. When Lyla was married well, Edgar was willing to support her for Westley's sake. But now...

Edgar only had eyes for Anastasia Matthews, who was about to become part of the West family. Before leaving, Edgar ostentatiously handed Anastasia a credit card right in front of Lyla, urging her to buy whatever she liked.

Lyla clenched her fists tightly, her nails digging into her palms. To her father, only interests mattered, not family ties. Whichever daughter brought the most benefit, he favored.

Anastasia approached Lyla with a bright smile. "Seems like you could use some cash, huh?"

With only seven dollars left in her account, Lyla nodded as she watched Anastasia put the card away and pull out a wad of cash.

"Here, take this for now," Anastasia offered.

Instinctively, Lyla reached for the money, but before she could grab it, Anastasia let go, causing the bills to flutter down to the ground.

Taking a deep breath, Lyla knelt down to gather the bills, driven by a desperate need because pride couldn't pay her brother's medical bills. She couldn't afford to lose him after losing her mom.

As Lyla was nearly finished picking up the money, Anastasia's stiletto heel suddenly came down on Lyla's hand.

"Ah!" Lyla cried out in pain.

Annoyed, Anastasia pressed the heel harder before finally stepping back.

Suppressing her pain, Lyla collected the rest of the cash and slipped it into her bag, refusing to shed a tear.

Anastasia's voice was light and mocking. "You used to be the Mrs. Grant, with everyone jumping at your command. Who would have thought you'd fall so low as to accept my charity so quickly?"

Rising to her feet, Anastasia looked down at Lyla as if she were a beggar. "Once I marry Marcellus and become the CEO's wife of West Enterprises, I'll be sure to bless you with more of my charity, dear sister."

Lyla watched as Anastasia turned gracefully and walked away. Slowly, Lyla stood up, a faint smile forming on her lips.

Someday, the humiliations she suffered today, she'd repay tenfold.

Want to marry Marcellus and become the CEO's wife of West Enterprises? Dream on.

Her eyes sparkled with determination as she left the Hunt estate and headed to the hospital.

Anastasia had casually tossed her about a thousand dollars; Lyla kept a hundred for herself and allocated the rest to her brother's medical fund.

The Lyla who once only cared about Westley was gone. Now, she focused solely on money.

Leaving the hospital, she received a call from Norah Warren.

"Hey, darling, how's the job search today?"

Lyla sighed and recounted the events of the day to Norah.

Norah's first reaction was to transfer her entire thirty-thousand-dollar savings to Lyla, a generous gesture that warmed Lyla's heart and would never be forgotten.

"Thank you, Norah, but I can't accept your money."

Lyla knew Norah was an excellent lawyer, but she hadn't been working long, and her salary wasn't very high. Plus, Norah had a modest family background and two brothers to support.

"Why not? It's just a loan."

"When I really need it, I'll come to you. I'm heading to the Grant residence to gather my things. You focus on work and don't worry about me."

After ending the call, Lyla rode her scooter to the villa and instantly noticed something was off: a group of men in black stood by the gate.

The villa should only have been occupied by Lyla and Westley, no staff included.

Lyla approached the men. "Who are you guys?"

Ignoring her question, one of the men stated coldly, "Without Mr. Grant's permission, you can't enter."

Lyla clenched her teeth. These men in black were obviously referring to Westley Grant. She called him via WhatsApp, wanting only to retrieve her belongings—she wouldn't take a single item more than she deserved.

No answer.

Lyla seethed, convinced he was ignoring her on purpose, so she tried calling three more times until he finally picked up.

Without beating around the bush, Lyla shouted, "Westley, what's the meaning of this?"

Westley's voice was calm and gravelly. "Leaving with nothing means you don't take a thing."

With that, he hung up, not giving Lyla a chance to respond, leaving her furious enough to stamp her foot.

Eyeing the hulking men in suits, Lyla realized she couldn't force her way in, so she turned and headed straight for Grant Corporation.

She charged into Westley's office without knocking, unfazed by the others present. Her resolve was unmistakable.

"Westley, I need to talk to you alone."

Westley glanced at his watch, a slight smirk on his lips. Just as he thought, it took less than three days for Lyla to come back, seeking reconciliation.

But first, he intended to teach her a lesson she'd never forget about thinking too highly of herself.

The office was now empty except for Lyla Hunt and Westley Grant. With her cheeks flushed, Lyla was clearly simmering with anger. Striding forward, she stopped in front of the desk, her voice rising with emotion.

"Westley Grant, I might not have achieved much in our two years of marriage, but I've been through my share of hardships!" she exclaimed. "How could you stoop so low?"

He had stifled her career, making it impossible for her to find work. By severing ties with her father's company, he left her family unable to cover Edgar's medical expenses. He wouldn't even allow her to collect her belongings. Lyla was thoroughly disgusted by Westley's actions.

Leaning back in his chair, Westley looked at Lyla with the same disdain he always had, without a hint of remorse. His voice was icy as he spoke. "You started this with your unreasonable behavior and dared to threaten me. This is just a little lesson."

Lyla's large eyes darted around quickly as she picked up the mug of coffee on the desk. Westley smirked with a hint of condescension. "Lyla, you don't think bringing me a cup of coffee is going to make me take you back, do you?"

Though he had to admit, her coffee was quite good, Westley had made up his mind. He needed to teach this foolish woman a lesson. After Westley's words, Lyla was momentarily stunned but quickly lifted her chin and asked with a wry smile, "Then what do you want?"

Adjusting his posture, Westley crossed his legs, his slender fingers lightly tapping on the desk. Seeing Lyla with a smile on her face, his dislike deepened. Arrogantly, he said, "You will not only donate your kidney to Winona without any conditions but also clean all the company's restrooms, and finally, beg me on your knees."

Yes, donating a kidney to Winona without conditions. Westley had no desire to have children with this foolish woman anymore.

Lyla didn't lose her temper; she simply let out a soft "oh." Swiftly, she splashed the coffee across Westley's handsome face. The man was utterly shocked, while Lyla smiled brightly, her tone lighthearted.

"If you were the last man on earth, I'd rather spend my life alone than ask you to take me back."

With those words, she let go of the cup. It shattered on the ground, just like the remnants of their relationship. Turning on her heel, Lyla left without a trace of regret, walking away with poise.

Realizing what had happened, Westley's clenched fist slammed heavily on the desk. "Lyla Hunt, you'll pay for this…"

Meanwhile, at the headquarters of West Enterprises, Ezra Simpson, the personal assistant, stood in despair as Marcellus West stared at the papers in his hand for what seemed an eternity. It was long enough for Ezra to feel that if he didn't speak up soon, Marcellus might look at those documents until the end of time.

Clearing his throat, Ezra spoke with respect. "Mr. West, Lyla Hunt and Miss Smith are two different people."

His words prompted Marcellus to review the detailed documents once more. Lyla Hunt was Lyla Hunt, and Elena Smith was Elena Smith; their backgrounds were worlds apart. Still holding the documents, Marcellus's expression was unreadable.

"Leave."

Ezra, feeling somewhat helpless, left the office. He had investigated Lyla himself and found the situation rather strange.

The next morning, Lyla arrived particularly early because she truly cherished her job. If she didn't want Westley to pull her strings again, she had to win over Marcellus West to ensure she wouldn't get fired.

When Marcellus arrived, the executive office was already spotless, thanks to Lyla. She stood straight, her voice clear. "Good morning, Mr. West."

He was dressed simply in a black shirt and trousers, yet on him, the outfit seemed both refined and prestigious, making Lyla unconsciously swallow. "Morning."

Marcellus surveyed Lyla, his gaze unreadable. Lyla, full of sincerity, asked with concern, "Have you had breakfast, sir?"

Taking care of the executive's meals was one of a secretary's primary duties. Marcellus nodded slightly, "And you?"

Lyla was momentarily taken aback. Her boss was both gentlemanly and polite, unlike her ex-husband, who was always condescending and cold. Could this mean her luck was turning?

Her smile broadened, becoming playfully charming. "I've eaten, thank you for asking. Shall I make you a cup of coffee?"

"Please."

Efficiently, in less than ten minutes, Lyla placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of Marcellus, her attitude respectful, her tone humble. "Please, try it and let me know if there's anything I should improve."

She had ground the coffee by hand, adding no sugar or cream. Although Lyla had previously consulted Ezra about Marcellus's preferences, she believed in being meticulous and careful.

Marcellus gracefully took a sip, placing the cup back on the desk, his gaze on Lyla profound and ocean-deep. The intensity of his look made Lyla uneasy, prompting her to ask cautiously, "Is the coffee too hot? Or does it taste off?"

Shaking his head lightly, Marcellus replied in a calm tone. "It's good."

In an instant, Lyla's smile bloomed like a spring blossom. Westley never complimented her coffee, only criticized and dismissed it. The feeling of being acknowledged was wonderful, and as Lyla smiled, her eyes misted unexpectedly.

She felt a sudden urge to proclaim to the world that she, Lyla Hunt, wasn't all that bad.

On her first day at work, she received validation from Marcellus West, a man known for his immense influence in the city. Though it was just a cup of coffee, she was determined to excel in all her tasks.

Feeling a surge of emotion, Lyla exclaimed, "Mr. West, you're truly a great boss. Thank you for giving me this opportunity. I won't let you down."

It was the first time Marcellus heard anyone commend him as a good boss. His lips curved slightly, and his deep voice was warm yet husky. "Ms. Hunt, accompany me to a charity gala this evening."

Without a moment's hesitation, Lyla replied eagerly, "Of course, Mr. West."

As to the nature of this charity gala and what she needed to prepare, Lyla didn't ask Marcellus but instead turned to Ezra for information. Ezra kindly answered all her questions and even helped her organize her workstation.

As the chief secretary, Lyla's desk was strategically positioned right outside the executive office, meaning anyone wishing to see Marcellus had to pass through her.

The executive was quite busy, leaving the company before ten, but he didn't take Lyla along. So, she made her way to the charity gala on her own. Arriving on time, she was twenty minutes early, waiting at the hotel entrance for Marcellus.

Westley spotted Lyla as soon as he stepped out of the car. That evening, her red evening gown was strikingly eye-catching. The most captivating aspect was the gown's open-back design. Her skin, already pale and radiant, appeared even more alluring against the red fabric.

In two years of marriage, Westley had never scrutinized Lyla as closely as he did now. A gown like that was unforgiving on the figure, yet it highlighted her hourglass curves perfectly. His eyes deepened; her waist was so slender.