Chapter 158

A slight furrow marred Anthony's brow as he unintentionally eavesdropped on the vexed conversation. Director Sue and her assistant director disappeared into the elevator, leaving Anthony alone with his thoughts.

"Anthony," Sarah's voice rang out, bubbly and light, as she emerged from the room and looped her arm through his. He cradled her sweet, demure face in his arms, a twinge of discomfort prickling at him as he remembered Director Sue's words. Was she merely putting on a show?

In his limited encounters with women, he had met debutantes who portrayed themselves as prim and proper in his presence, only to unveil their wild, domineering sides when out of sight. Could Sarah be another one of them? The thought of his angel behaving in such a manner was unbearable.

"Anthony, what's wrong?" she asked softly, her voice laced with concern.

"How did the audition go?" Anthony inquired, his gaze averted to conceal his turbulent emotions.

"It was great! Director Sue and the assistant director couldn't stop praising me. They said I'm a natural and the lead role was meant for me," Sarah responded, her voice brimming with feigned enthusiasm.

Internally, she rolled her eyes.

The director and her assistant, as blind as bats, had audaciously criticized her acting, halting her performance midway.

Unable to stomach their criticism, she had retaliated fiercely, throwing Anthony's name around like a weapon and lashing out with a string of expletives.

Once she threatened their careers, they had backed down, proving themselves to be the fools she had pegged them for. They were no match for the power that Anthony wielded.

Anthony's discomfort only deepened at her words.

"Anthony, I'll be a star one day, and then I'll be worthy of you," she promised, a hopeful glint in her eyes.

"Let's go. Time for dinner," he suggested, attempting to divert the conversation.

Sarah masked her disappointment with a smile, pretending to be cheerful.

...

Anthony escorted Sarah to the most upscale steakhouse in the city. The first-class ambiance and impeccable service nearly swept her off her feet. It was a life she had never dared to dream of before, yet here she was, more determined than ever to cling to it until she became the renowned Ms. Eilish and could indulge in such luxury daily.

Unfamiliar with such an environment, Sarah awkwardly mimicked Anthony, holding her fork in her left hand and her knife in her right. She struggled with the unfamiliar etiquette, the screeching sound of her knife against the plate making her silently curse in frustration.

The waitress stifled a smirk. Having worked in such a refined establishment, she had seen all sorts of patrons. It didn't take her long to notice that despite Sarah's Chanel attire, there was something off about her demeanor.

True bluebloods exuded a natural sense of entitlement; their understated demeanor was a result of their accustomed lifestyle. Sarah, however, seemed desperate to flaunt her newfound wealth, as though eager for the whole world to take notice.

Noticing the waitress's sidelong glance, Sarah shot her a sharp look.

Anthony observed the exchange, Sue's comment echoing in his mind: "little rascal."

Seizing the opportunity, Sarah played up her hardships. "I'm so sorry, Anthony. Did I embarrass you? You know my family isn't well-off, my stepmom won't even pay for my tuition. I'm working jobs every day; how could I afford fancy restaurants?"

"My tuition and living expenses? Earned through working every waking hour. Otherwise, I would've starved by now."

Hearing this, Anthony couldn't help but feel sympathy for her.

Even if she was a bit of a wild child, it wasn't her fault; it was a product of her environment.

But... he didn't like it when someone put on an act in front of him, especially someone he cared about.

"All that's in the past. From now on, you won't have to suffer anymore."

"Thank you, Anthony. You're so good to me," Sarah said, her eyes touched as she placed her hand on the back of his.

Anthony withdrew his hand and handed her a plate with the perfectly sliced steak.

After lunch.

"I'll drive you home."

"Are you heading back to the office?" Sarah was visibly disappointed. "I was hoping you could spend the whole day with me. I was thinking about going out for drinks tonight. Don't get me wrong, Anthony. I don't usually drink; I just wanted to celebrate my successful interview and have a toast with you."

Of course, it wasn't just for a toast. Sarah could hold her liquor and was confident she could drink Anthony under the table. Then, one thing would lead to another...

"Sorry, I've got a meeting this afternoon. I'll accompany you another time."

"Sure," Sarah agreed readily, though inside, she felt restless. The longer they postponed, the more she worried about being exposed.

At the Holland Group.

In the design department's break room.

A group of female employees were gossiping.

"Hey, did you hear? Mr. Marley is being transferred to the Germany branch for half a year. He's leaving next week."

"No way! He just got back from Europe, and he said he'd be staying at the headquarters all year. Why the sudden move?"

"Who knows? It must be a company decision. But there's probably more to the story. They wouldn't shuffle a chief designer around so hastily without a good reason."

"I agree."

"So, who's going to be the most unfortunate one once Mr. Marley leaves?"

"Layla!" they said in unison, snickering together.

"Without Mr. Marley, she loses her protection. With so many people disliking her, she's going to have a tough time."

"Exactly. An assistant taking on a designer's job, living in a company apartment at a manager's level - who wouldn't be miffed? It was all fine and dandy because Mr. Marley was here, no one could say anything."

"Bet Mr. Marley's transfer is because of her. She's screwed us over; now we won't get to see Mr. Marley anymore."

"Totally. Mr. Marley was the catch of the company, second only to the president himself. What a home-wrecker."

Layla stood frozen by the door, her heart numb as she clutched her water cup, about to return to her cubicle when Alice burst in.

"Seriously, guys, can't you stop trash-talking for one second? We're all colleagues here; is there any need to be so mean?"

"It's not like we're talking about you. Why are you so worked up?" retorted colleague A, rolling her eyes at Alice. "Mr. Marley's being transferred, and you're still clinging to his coattails. How naive can you be?"

"Who are you saying is clinging to Mr. Marley's coattails?"

"Alice..." Layla interjected, trying to diffuse the situation before it escalated.

"What? Are you telling me you don't feel even a twinge of resentment? You joined the company six months before her and you're still just an assistant. Drop the act."

"What act?" Alice scoffed. "If everyone were as petty as you, the world would have ended by now."

"You're just bitter, and deep down, you know it."

"How dare you-say that one more time?"

"Let it go, Alice. It's not worth arguing with them," Layla shook her head.

"I don't have your patience."

Layla wasn't exactly patient; she had just become desensitized by seeing too much pettiness. The world is never short of people who revel in your misfortune. What's the point of arguing?

"Speaking of which, was Mr. Marley transferred by Holland himself? Does he know Mr. Marley has a thing for you?" Alice inquired.

"No, he requested the transfer himself."

"What's really going on? It's all so confusing."

Layla's mood became even more troubled.

But what weighed on her the most was the decision about her baby.

She wasn't far along in her pregnancy, but each day the baby grew inside her, becoming an inseparable part of her being. She couldn't bear the thought of ending it. She was prepared to be a single mother, no matter how tough or exhausting it might be.

But surely... Samuel wouldn't let a "tainted" woman like her carry his child, would he? He'd expect her to get rid of it, wouldn't he?

The mere thought tormented Layla.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop asking. Let's go grab some lunch. We're not doing cafeteria food today-I'm treating you to something nice."

Layla wasn't in the mood for "something nice," but Alice dragged her downstairs anyway.

*Ding*

The elevator doors slid open in unison, revealing Samuel, garbed in a sleek black suit, stepping out with the company of Mr. Vandella.

Layla's complexion drained of color, her face as pale as a ghost.