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.
