Emily stood at the base of the skyscraper, her head tilted back so far it hurt. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, a continuous beat she couldn't slow down. She didn't know how many elite chefs she would be competing against today. If she were back in the province, she would be confident, but this was the Capital City—a place where people had more experience than she could imagine. Unlike her, who cooked in the peace of her own home, these people were professionals.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed through the heavy glass doors. The interior was even busier than it had been yesterday. Emily navigated the crowd and walked straight to the secretary's desk, her chin held high despite her nerves.
"Good morning. I'm here for the cooking contest, just like you told me yesterday," Emily said, flashing a friendly, hopeful smile.
The secretary didn't look up immediately. She continued typing for a few moments before her eyes slowly traveled up, taking Emily in with a cold, judgmental stare. Her gaze lingered on Emily's simple clothes before she finally spoke.
"And where did you say you got your card to apply for this job again?" the secretary asked. She leaned back in her chair, resting her manicured arms on the desk, her eyes boring into Emily's.
"I didn't buy it... someone gave it to me," Emily explained, letting out a small, awkward laugh—the kind that showed exactly how out of place she felt.
"Well, Miss Emily—as your name says—there is one thing we don't accept in our restaurant, and that is a thief." The secretary stood up, leaning across the desk until she was face-to-face with Emily.
"I... I don't understand," Emily stammered, her confusion quickly turning into a cold knot in her stomach.
"Your name is not on the entry chart. And if someone 'bought' it for you as you claim, they would have written it down," the secretary sneered, her voice dropping to a hiss.
"You must be mistaken! My friend got it—"
The secretary didn't let her finish. Without breaking eye contact, she reached for the desk phone and dialed a three-digit extension.
"I've got the thief," she said into the receiver, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "You can come down and get her now."
She hung up the phone and crossed her arms, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips as she stared at Emily, waiting for the security team to arrive.
Emily stood there, stunned. Never in her life did she imagine this would happen to her. Why on earth would this secretary accuse me of stealing? she thought, her face flushing with heat. A card meant for an elite job was clearly a means to find work, not something to buy with million.
"When the guards get here, you'd better have a good explanation," the secretary said, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction.
Back in town, Mia was pacing the floor of her living room like a caged animal. She was restless, her phone pressed so hard to her ear it hurt. She had been yelling nonstop at the person on the other end.
"How dare you, Daisy! Why did you have to take that card to your school?!" Mia's shriek echoed through the house, sharp enough to shatter glass.
"I... I just thought it was cute!" Daisy's voice whimpered from the other end.
"If I miss my chance of working at XAVIT, just know we are finished from now on!" Mia hissed through gritted teeth before slamming her finger down to cut the call.
She felt like she was going insane. Where on earth could Daisy have dropped it?
"Mia!"
A sharp, familiar voice came from behind her. Mia froze, her heart nearly stopping. She slowly turned to see Mrs. Erica. The older woman was walking toward her with the help of a polished wooden cane. She looked at Mia with a piercing gaze before slowly lowering herself onto the sofa, her hands gently gripping the armrest.
"Is anything the problem? I heard you yelling," Mrs. Erica said, her voice low but commanding.
Mia swallowed hard, her mind racing for a lie. "Nothing, Ma..."
She was about to scream out of pure rage—she didn't care who the hell was talking to her—but she remembered Mike was still furious with her. If she made things worse now, there would be no turning back. She forced herself to take a deep breath and lowered her voice, masking the fire burning inside her.
"Nothing! I just lost something important!" Mia stammered, her fingers trembling as she dialed a number on her phone.
Mrs. Erica watched her for a few agonizing seconds, then cleared her throat with a dry, sharp sound. "You said you were going to give me some money today," she reminded her, her voice echoing with a cold, transactional weight.
Mia froze. She slowly raised her head, her eyes narrowing as she stared down the old woman. This family... Mike's family had been a weight around her neck from the very first dinner date. From the house to the clothes, she was the one providing everything, yet this lady still had the nerve to ask for more money while eating her food.
"I just told you, Mrs. Erica, I just lost something important!" Mia snapped, her patience finally swaying. "I spent my last savings on... something." She bit her tongue, not wanting to be seen as "rude," but the resentment was bubbling over.
"But you promised me today! What is it with these kids nowadays? A promise is a promise, and you need to fulfill it!" Mrs. Erica's voice rose, filling the living room with a shrill, demanding tone.
Mia stood there, completely speechless. She had no patience for old hags like this, but Mike was the only reason she was playing this role of the "calm, supportive girlfriend."
She was about to fire back a sharp retort when her phone suddenly vibrated in her hand. She glanced at the screen and snatched it up immediately. "Hello?"
"Oh really? You've found my card? Thank you so much! I'm on my way!" Mia practically started dancing on the spot, her anger vanishing in an instant. Without another word to Mrs. Erica—not even a glance back—she grabbed her purse and bolted out the door.
"Mia! We're not done talking, Mia!" Mrs. Erica yelled at the closed door, but Mia was already gone.
Back at XAVIT, the atmosphere was far from celebratory. Emily felt the rough fabric of the guards' gloves as they gripped her arms.
"Let me go! You're making a mistake!" Emily cried out, her voice echoing off the high marble ceilings of the lobby.
She grew even more terrified when she overheard one of the guards whispering into his radio about calling the police. They were treating her like a common criminal without even listening to her side of the story. She struggled against their hold, her heart racing with a mix of fear and sheer indignation.
"Can you let go of me, Officer? I've done nothing wrong!" Emily shouted, her voice rising to a frantic pitch. "This is clearly against the law! You're holding me against my will!"
She was desperate, looking around the cold, expensive lobby for a single person who might see the truth in her eyes, but the secretary only watched from her desk with a bored, cruel expression.
Emily's face burned with embarrassment as passersby stopped to stare. The two security guards stood over her like towers, ensuring she wouldn't run away. Only God knows where Louisa got that card from, she thought, her heart sinking. I never should have accepted it.
Suddenly, one of the guards received a crackling call on his radio. He nodded curtly, then turned to his partner. Without wasting a second, they grabbed Emily by the arms and began dragging her toward the exit.
"You're hurting me, sir!" Emily cried out. This time, she couldn't hold back her tears. "I'm pregnant! Please, don't hurt me! I didn't steal anything!"
She struggled, her heels skidding against the polished floor, but the guard's grip was like iron.
"You're pregnant and still stealing? You must be a great mother," one of the guards sneered, yanking her forward harshly. "Move it, woman!"
Emily felt like she was trapped in a nightmare she couldn't wake up from. "I really didn't steal anything! Someone gave that card to me! Please believe me, I'm not a thief!"
Her vision began to blur, the expensive lobby turning into a smear of gold and white. Everything felt distant, like a bad dream. She was so overwhelmed that she didn't even notice the sudden silence that fell over the room.
"What's happening?"
A deep, commanding voice boomed from behind them.
The guards froze instantly. They turned to see Xavier walking toward them. He was a striking figure in neatly ironed trousers and a white long-sleeve shirt, topped with a black, knee-length coat. His hair was slightly wet, the damp curls making him look dangerously handsome. His straight nose and intense gaze radiated an aura of absolute authority.
The guards quickly released their grip on Emily and bowed deeply as Xavier approached. The only sound in the lobby was the constant tap, tap, tap of his shoes against the marbled floor.
"She stole the get in card from someone, Sir. We are taking her to the police," one of the guards explained, his voice shaking.
Emily stared up at the man through her blurry, tear-filled eyes. She blinked, trying to clear her vision. Is that... the janitor? she wondered. But this wasn't the time for confusion. Right now, she just needed someone—anyone—to save her from this mess.
"I really didn't steal any card! I keep telling you, someone gave that card to me!" Emily sobbed, her voice cracking as fresh tears welled up. She didn't have a chance to say another word before Xavier walked straight to the elevator, ignoring the chaos behind him.
"Tell the police they can go back. I'll handle this one," Xavier said calmly. He stood there, his eyes fixed on the elevator doors, as if Emily's life depended on his next breath.
Emily was frozen. She was beyond words, but she didn't waste a second. She scrambled away from the guards and ran to Xavier's side. She didn't know if he was her savior or a new kind of threat, but she knew she had to get away from those guards. She couldn't stop crying; this was the most humiliating day of her life. She just wanted it all to end. She just wanted to go home and never look back at this city.
"Thank you so much. I really tried explaining to them that I wasn't a thief, but no one would believe me," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own breathing.
"The police are dismissed," Xavier repeated, his voice cold and unwavering.
"Yes, Sir!" the guards said in unison. They bowed once more and retreated, leaving the lobby in a sudden, heavy silence.
"Come with me," Xavier commanded. He stepped into the elevator without glancing back.
Emily had no choice. He had just saved her from a lifetime of trauma, so she followed him into the small, mirrored space. She stood silently in the corner as the doors slid shut. She couldn't help but steal glances at him. He stood with his arms folded, his eyes fixed on the glowing numbers above the door. Her mind raced back to the market—to the arrogant man she had slapped. She didn't regret doing it, but she was overwhelmed with gratitude that he was helping her now.
The elevator chimed, and the doors opened. Xavier stepped out into the executive hallway first. Emily followed slowly behind him, her mind was full of questions. What exactly are they doing here? Is he going to get his revenge on me for slapping him? The hallway was so quiet that the only sound was the two of them walking, a silence that felt like it was leading toward something life-changing.
"I'm really sorry but... Why I'm I here,Sir..." Emily started to say, her voice trembling as she tried to make sense of the situation, but she got no response.
They reached the office door. Xavier stood by the entrance and turned to her, his face unreadable. He waited for her to speak, his silence demanding her attention.
"Sir, I'm really grateful for your help today. And for believing me," Emily said, taking a shaky breath. "But... I have to go home now. I promise not to step my foots into this_"
"Marry me."
The world froze.