I picked up the business card, then read the letters. James Howard, CEO of HD Group.

I looked at him with a strange expression. "Sir, you're not thinking of ... keeping me as a mistress, are you?"

"For your information, the monthly salary is one hundred thousand," he said.

"Of course, I know Mr. Howard is absolutely not that kind of man! One hundred thousand, you say? I can start tomorrow!"

It wasn't that I wanted to give in; it was that he offered far too much!

To buy a house in a place like this city, where every inch of land is as precious as gold, with my meagre street stall income, I'd probably have to work until I die.

The next day, I clutched the business card and went to the Howard residence for the 'interview.'

James opened the door himself. The young man was wearing a grey tracksuit, probably having just returned from a run.

Seeing me standing before the carved iron gate, he unlocked it himself and led me inside.

Tall and long-legged, he strode ahead, forcing me to jog to keep pace.

The Howard residence was huge. It took us seven or eight minutes to walk from the main gate to the living room.

As I walked, I kept checking my surroundings, staying on guard in case he tried to take advantage of me.

Then, with a bang, I slammed right into his broad back. The pain made my eyes see stars.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Howard! I ... I didn't mean to!" I apologized, clutching my sore nose.

James turned around, clearly exasperated and glared at me. "Did you think I was going to do something to you?"

I couldn't hide my disappointment. "Didn't you?"

James laughed in exasperation, raising a hand as if to strike me, but he restrained himself and only said, "Stop calling me Mr. Howard. Take a good look. Do you really not know who I am?"

I leaned in for a closer inspection, then shook my head. "No, I don't."

"Tsk."

"Seriously, I don't. How could a barbecue seller like me know a big shot like you? Maybe you've got the wrong person!"

I knew it! How could a good job paying one hundred thousand a month just fall into my lap?

It turned out the domineering CEO was suffering from blurry vision and mistook me for someone else.

James gritted his teeth, a sinister smile spreading across his face. "Bridget, you dare to say you don't know me again!"

When the CEO exploded, a chilling aura swept out from him.

I instinctively shrank my neck back, my eyes fixed intently on the man's deeply handsome look.

Someone's face that had once been severely burned and covered in scars flashed through my mind. If those scars were removed from that face …

I froze in shock, realizing who he was almost instantly—then spun around and ran. But before I could get far, a hand seized my wrist and forcefully yanked me back.

My back directly hit the wall and James's face loomed dangerously close to mine. He pinned my wrists above my head, looking down at me with an intimidating glare.

"Why don't you keep running, Bridget?"

I couldn't run! The strength gap between us was too vast and I was no match for him.

Actually, Jeremy Foster wasn't the only boyfriend I ever had.

I was seventeen that summer when a new transfer student joined our class—John Shelton, the boy whose face was marked by extensive scars from a fire.

The students were terrified of him and avoided him everywhere. No one even dared to sit with him during lunch in the cafeteria. Behind his back, everyone called him the 'Ugly Monster.'

One day, his deskmate asked to switch seats, saying that just seeing his face gave her nightmares.

The teacher could only sigh and ask if anyone else was willing to sit beside him.

His slender fingers were nervously scratching the edge of the desk, betraying his inner tension.

Just as silence fell over the room and no one volunteered, I timidly raised my hand.

At that moment, the class erupted in laughter.

"Sir, just let Bridget sit with him!"

"A little trash-picker paired with an ugly monster—they're perfect for each other!"

Back then, my adoptive grandmother was still alive and she raised me by collecting trash.

To help ease my grandmother's burden, I would often rummage through trash bins after school to collect bottles for her. Because of that, my classmates looked down on me, whispering that I smelled bad. So, from the very first day of high school, I’d always sat alone at my desk.

The teacher who knew about my situation harshly scolded anyone who mocked me.

Bottlenecks probably could be sealed, but human hearts remained untamed.

Behind my back, they nicknamed me "Little Ragpicker."

Ignoring their mockery, I gripped my shirt hem nervously and asked John. "John, would you be willing to be my deskmate?"

I was terrified he'd think I smelled too. But to my surprise, John nodded firmly. "As long as you're not afraid of me, I'd be happy to!"

After that, we started spending more time together.

I soon discovered how brilliant he was; he always ranked first in our grade.

He'd help me with my studies and I'd thank him with the chicken wraps my grandmother made.

When the thugs outside of school bullied him, I grabbed a baseball bat and fought them. And when I couldn't afford lunch, he split his allowance with me.

In our senior year, he suddenly confessed his feelings.

He asked me to attend the same university as him, promising that we would study at one of the city's best universities.

I accepted his confession and listed one of them as my first choice. But on the night before the submission deadline, while working part-time at a five-star hotel, I ran into John's family for dinner.

There was a stunningly beautiful girl sitting beside him.

While their parents were away in the restroom, I overheard them discussing how this girl would accompany John abroad for treatment during the summer and that their engagement would be announced upon their return.

I admit I had low self-esteem.

When I got back, I changed my university application. I sent John a message saying I'd fallen in love with someone else and wanted to break up with him. Then, I immediately blocked all his contact information.

At that time, no one knew which university I went to. I also never heard anything from John again.

"If Jeremy hadn't returned home that day and if the paparazzi hadn't spotted you, I might still have no idea you'd already come back to this city." James' voice was filled with anger.

"The 'someone else' you mentioned is that Jeremy Foster?"

I hadn't expected the random excuse I'd made up to break up with him would be something he'd remembered until now.

I struggled to break free from his grip. "What does it matter now? If I remember correctly, I already broke up with you!"

James was furious. "Am I a dog you raised? You think you can break up with me just because you say so?"

As his voice fell silent, the villa door opened.

A girl in a high-fashion designer dress walked out. She was very beautiful, like a princess in a castle.

I had seen her before. She was the person who was having dinner with James in the private room that day. I recalled their parents had arranged their engagement back then.

So, James already had a fiancée and still wanted to harass me? Did they all think I was easy to bully?

"Bridget Lockhe? Babe, you finally found her?"

The girl's voice brimmed with excitement as soon as she spoke.

Babe? What exactly was the relationship between this girl and James?