Emily hung up, a wave of relief washing over her. “Thank goodness. It seems Mr. Thompson and my secret husband aren’t the same person.” She sighed. “What a relief. I’ve been bad-mouthing Mr. Thompson to my secret husband. If they were the same, I’d rather die than face that.”
Suddenly, Michael stirred beside her. “Sleeping again? That’s all you do?”
Emily shrieked, pulling the sheets up to her chin. “Excuse me! Why is my phone here?”
“Mr. Thompson, where were you yesterday? Your phone was off,” Alex Johnson said, bursting into the room.
“I was drugged,” Michael stated, his voice tight. “Find out who did this.”
“On it right away,” Alex replied.
“By the way, where’s Emily Carter?” Michael asked, looking around the room as if just realizing she was there.
“She wasn’t at the office today. She claimed to be unwell and took sick leave.”
“Unwell, you say?” Michael looked at Emily, a knowing glint in his eyes. He started to get out of bed.
“Mr. Thompson, where are you going?” Alex asked, trying to block him.
Michael ignored him. “I’ve been thinking, you should know something.”
Emily, trying to process everything, said, “A woman called me yesterday, claiming you’re cheating.”
“Can’t talk now,” Michael said, brushing past her. “Someone’s at my door.”
It was Grandma. “You’re the boss who sent Emmy to her home last time, right?”
“That’s me,” Michael replied. “Heard she’s not feeling well. Came to check on her.”
Emily, surprised, came to the door. “Who is it? What brings the big boss here?”
“This kid,” Grandma said, pulling Michael inside. “Please come in first. Sure, Grandma.”
“Here, have some fruits,” Grandma offered.
“Thanks, Grandma,” Michael said, taking a bite.
“How old are you? Are you married?” Grandma asked, ever the matchmaker.
“I’m 26 years old. Already married,” Michael replied.
Grandma looked disappointed. “Married? But you two look perfect for each other! Too bad you’re married.”
“Grandma, I was–” Emily started.
Michael, seeing his chance, interjected, “To be honest, I’m getting divorced.”
“Divorce?!” Grandma’s eyes lit up. “Divorce is good! Emmy’s husband hasn’t come back once in their whole marriage. He’s clearly no good. I’ll make sure Emmy divorces him. You and Emmy would be great together!”
So Emily Carter’s husband treats her badly? Michael thought, a strange possessiveness stirring within him. Then I should take responsibility.
“Grandma?” Emily said, trying to steer the conversation away.
“Enough about that,” Grandma waved her hand. “You two talk.”
Once Grandma left, Emily turned to Michael. “Why are you here?”
“Heard you weren’t feeling well,” Michael said, his gaze intense. “Is this about yesterday?” He reached out to touch her arm.
“Stop!” Emily recoiled. “What happened was just an accident! I know you were drugged. Let’s pretend nothing happened, okay?”
“I’ll take responsibility,” Michael said, stepping closer.
“What can you do to take responsibility for me?” Emily challenged, her voice a mix of anger and hurt. “Through divorce? I’ll get divorced.”
“No need,” Emily said, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. “I’m fine. Just leave.”
“You’re not well,” Michael insisted. “I’ll stay to take care of you.”
Emily grabbed her phone. “I need to call my husband.” She looked at Michael. “Want to listen?”
“Oh, really? Perfect. I’ve never met him. Go ahead. I’ll stay quiet.” Michael sat down, looking intrigued.
“Do you have some kind of fetish?” Emily muttered under her breath. “Besides, it’s not a video call anyway. You can’t even see his face.”
“It’s fine,” Michael replied, a hint of a smile on his face. “Just listening is okay.”
Emily sighed. “We’re about to discuss some… intimate matters. Still want to listen?”
Michael paused. Didn’t her grandmother say that her husband treated her badly? Are they actually loving after all? He hesitated, then stood up. “Don’t bother. Get some rest.” He turned to leave.
“Why so interested in my personal life?” Emily called after him. Could it be… he liked me?
Later, Michael called Emily’s «husband.» “Hey. You said someone used my phone to message you about cheating, but there’s no trace on my phone.”
“Probably deleted it,” her husband replied. “When I called back later, a woman answered, said you were in her bed. She acted all smug about it. Then went to claim ownership with my wife.”
I get it now, Michael thought. “By the way, do you mind if I’m with someone else?” he asked, a strange curiosity in his voice.
“Of course not,” her husband replied. “Our marriage was a big deal. It was just for convenience. Besides, you should have your own life and relationships.”
“Does that bother you?” Michael pressed.
“Here’s the thing,” her husband continued. “I slept with someone yesterday too. Like you said, this is a marriage of convenience. I won’t interfere with your life or judge who you’re with.”
“Good,” Michael said, a relieved sigh escaping him. “Just being nosy, was that girl someone special?”
“Not sure,” her husband admitted, “but she’s really into me.”
“So we should finalize the divorce soon,” Michael suggested.
“Fine. Pick a date then,” her husband agreed. “Seven days from now, we’ll get divorced after we meet.”
In seven days, I’ll be single again, Michael thought, a strange mix of anticipation and trepidation. So, sure enough, it was his sweetheart who was asserting her sovereignty over me that day. He frowned. But she sent the wrong address with the same room number as Mr. Thompson.
The next day, Sophia, still fuming, called Emily. “Hello? Emily Carter! Mr. Anderson’s project. When will you follow up? Quit now if you can’t handle it. You’ll handle it first thing tomorrow. Mr. Thompson’s direct order. Understood.”
Meanwhile, Emily’s phone rang. It was the woman from the other day. “You claim to know who’s having an affair with my husband? I also know they’re meeting tomorrow. I’ll send you their meetup location. Go see for yourself. See it with your own eyes. How dare her seduce my husband?! I’ll tear her apart! Rip that hussy’s mouth off!”
Emily, still in the office, saw the message with the location. She quickly approached Sophia. “Where is she?”
Sophia looked surprised. “Didn’t you assign her to Mr. Anderson? I never said to go today. Is she avoiding me?” Emily handed her the phone. “Give me the address. I’m confronting her.”
Emily arrived at a bustling cafe in downtown Seattle, where Mr. Anderson was patiently waiting. “Mr. Anderson, I heard you’re a coffee connoisseur. What do you think of this blend?”
“Not bad,” Mr. Anderson replied, taking a sip. “About the project details, I’ve reviewed everything. Let’s sign the contract.”
“Okay,” Emily said, pushing the contract across the table. “Mr. Anderson, please review the contract. Any issues with the terms?”
Just then, the cafe door burst open and a furious woman stormed in – Mrs. Anderson. “How dare you seduce my man?!” she shrieked, pointing at Emily.
“This isn’t what it looks like!” Emily protested. “We were discussing business!”
“Shut your trap!” Mrs. Anderson screamed. “Don’t think I don’t know your dirty little secret! I saw everything between you two!”
“Mrs. Anderson, this is a misunderstanding!” Emily tried to explain. “I work for Thompson Enterprises!”
“Still lying through your teeth?! I’ll teach you a lesson today!” Mrs. Anderson lunged at Emily. “Everyone, come see this homewrecker! This sly fox seduced my husband! Homewrecker, you love being the other woman! Put on a show for everyone!”
“I didn’t! Let go of me!” Emily struggled as Mrs. Anderson grabbed her arm.
Michael Thompson, who had been following Emily, suddenly appeared. “Enough! Who do you think you are? Mind your own business?!”
A bystander tried to intervene. “Trying to play the hero? Shut your mouth!”
Michael, his face a mask of controlled fury, looked at Mrs. Anderson. “Mr. Thompson, what brings you here? This minor project doesn’t require your personal attention.”
“What Mr. Thompson? I’m warning you! Don’t stop me from beating this homewrecker!” Mrs. Anderson screeched.
“Just shut up,” Michael said, his voice dangerously low. He turned to Mr. Anderson. “Are you trying to get me killed? Mr. Thompson, let’s sign the contract now.”
Mr. Anderson, looking terrified, quickly agreed. “We can sign immediately! There’s no problem, really!”
Michael looked at Mrs. Anderson, his eyes blazing. “You let this harpy bully my Thompson Enterprises employee? Our collaboration ends here. Starting today, Thompson Enterprises will impose a business blockade on the Anderson family.”
“Mr. Thompson, over this nobody employee, surely you’re overreacting!” Mrs. Anderson pleaded, realizing the gravity of the situation. “We’ll compensate her if needed! Let’s not ruin our partnership!”
“Enjoy your bankruptcy,” Michael said, his voice devoid of emotion.
Mrs. Anderson scoffed. “Ridiculous! The Anderson family empire won’t collapse at your whim!”
“Wishful thinking?” Michael said, a chilling smile on his face. He turned to Emily, his voice softening. “I’m fine. Focus on the deal. You matter more than any deal. Emily Carter, your Thompson Enterprises’s employee. Never compromise your dignity. I’ve got your back.”
Suddenly, Mr. Anderson’s phone rang. “Hello? What?! Our funding chain is broken? Impossible!” He looked at Michael, his face pale. “Mr. Thompson, so you’re Mr. Thompson? Mr. Thompson, I was blind earlier. Please forgive me!” He then turned to his wife, furious. “Mr. Thompson! Why did you have to provoke them? This is your fault! You cheated!”
Mrs. Anderson, completely distraught, tried to apologize, but Michael simply waved her off. He then turned to Emily, who was still recovering from the shock. “Don’t move. Sorry, I messed up. Does this mean I won’t get full-time status?” Emily asked, her voice small.
“Who said that?” Michael asked, a slight smile on his face. “You passed the trial. You’re keeping me.”
“Is it because you want to take responsibility?” Emily teased, feeling a bit bolder.
“Moron. You’re overthinking it,” Michael replied, playfully nudging her. “You passed my test. But that doesn’t mean you’ll join the design department yet. To transfer there, you must pass their challenge.”
Emily’s face fell. “Sophia already dislikes me. Will she let me pass?”
“Like this,” Michael said, a plan forming in his mind. “I’ll arrange a test tomorrow. Pass it, and I’ll approve your transfer. Dare to accept? Well?”
The next morning, an all-company email went out. “Attention, everyone! Our R&D team has upgraded our flagship product, Kafuse Serum. It has been optimized and upgraded. We need new packaging designs. The company hereby announces an internal design competition open to all departments.”
“Is this limited to the design department?” a voice asked during the company-wide announcement.
“This packaging design contest is open company-wide,” Alex Johnson announced. “Three-day deadline. The winner may make one request.”
“Wow, that’s generous!” a colleague exclaimed. “Can winners join the design department?”
“If you can win, certainly,” Michael’s voice boomed.
Sophia, seeing Emily’s determined expression, scoffed. “Emily Carter, do you even understand design? How dare you boast here? Shameless. Know your place.”
Emily met her gaze. “Save your concerns. Results will speak in three days.”
Later, Alex approached Sophia. “Sophia, I’ve checked. When Emily Carter was at school, she won numerous awards in design competitions. If she wins, our department loses face.”
Sophia smiled slyly. “I have a plan.”
That night, Emily was hunched over her desk, sketching furiously. “Done at last!” she exclaimed, stretching her tired muscles. “Just final tweaks tomorrow.”
Michael, who had been lingering in the office, watched her. “Pack up. Emily Carter, after I win this contest, I’ll have you expelled from Thompson Enterprises.” He was playfully mimicking Sophia.
Emily giggled. “Let’s go. I’ll take you home.”
“Thank you, Mr. Thompson.” As they walked past a fountain, Emily looked at the water. Water. Ripples. I’ve got an idea.
“Mr. Thompson, you go ahead first,” she said. “I’ll revise the draft.”
“Come back! It’s late! Go home!” Michael insisted.
The next day, in the packed conference room, Sophia presented her design. “This is the design for our second-gen product, with an overall white theme, pure and minimalist, emphasizing formula purity and product integrity and the product itself. This is my original design.”
“Wow! This competition is pointless!” a colleague whispered. “Let’s declare Sister Sophia the winner!”
“Exactly!” another agreed.
“This is my design!” Sophia declared, looking triumphant. “Emily Carter, have some shame! I worked three days and nights on this masterpiece! Don’t think your secretary position lets you steal my work! Emily Carter, a design thief like you, is a cancer in this industry! Get out of Thompson Enterprises!”
“I agree! Expel Emily Carter immediately!” the room buzzed with agreement.
“Enough!” Michael commanded. “Emily Carter, you claim this is your design? Where’s your proof?”
“My initial design used white for purity and simplicity, pure and minimalist,” Emily began.
“Stop parroting my words!” Sophia snapped.
“Like our products eliminating toxins, we use natural ingredients,” Emily continued, ignoring Sophia. “Choose natural ingredients. Sweet Talk won’t make this your design. Since women are made of water, hydration comes first in skincare. Our second-gen product has better moisturization with lightweight texture. Therefore, I made it transparent with water ripple patterns.” She revealed her design, a stunning, fluid bottle that truly evoked the essence of water.
The room fell silent, then a murmur of appreciation spread. “This does seem like Emily Carter has a better design!”
“Bullshit! Sophia’s design is clearly superior!” Sophia yelled, her face red.
“This woman! How dare you go behind my back and secretly make a second version?!”
“Who’s better?” Emily asked, looking around the room. “I trust everyone can judge for themselves.”
