Chapter 7

The soft click of the door closing behind her did nothing to quell the storm raging in Lily’s chest. Her hands shook as she toed off her shoes, the hospital scene replaying on a loop in her mind—Marina’s choking act, David’s frantic shout, the cold fear of the accusation, and worst of all, the icy fury in David’s eyes as he pointed the blame at her. “You’re back,” Noa said, emerging from the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel. She frowned, taking in Lily’s pallor. “What happened? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” “I might as well have,” Lily murmured, sinking onto the sofa as if her bones had turned to water. Noa sat beside her, waiting in patient silence. Lily told her everything. Noa leaned back slowly, a stunned silence filling the space between them. Then, as if someone had pressed a switch, her face contorted in disgust. “Marina is a damn delulu!” she snapped. “She knew exactly what she was doing, playing the victim card as always. And David…” She ground her teeth. “What a monumental ass. After everything you’ve done for him, he points a finger at you? Screw him!” Lily’s fingers dug into the cushion on her lap as if it could anchor her sanity. “There’s an even more terrifying possibility,” Lily said, her voice low and hollow. “Maybe… maybe they want this pinned on me. A jealous, scorned secretary trying to poison the boss’s true love? It’s a much juicier headline than ‘Socialite’s Scandal Sinks Stocks.’ It would perfectly divert public attention from Marina’s mess.” A bitter laugh, dangerously close to a sob, escaped her. Noa’s expression softened with pain. “Lily, don’t. Maybe he’s not that… you were his wife for five years.” “Five years,” Lily echoed derisively. “Did he ever truly treat me as a wife? To put it bluntly, I was just his exclusive whore—” “Lily!” Noa’s voice sharpened. “I won’t let you talk about yourself like that! You’re nothing like those gold-diggers. You agreed because you loved—” “Did that love matter?” Lily looked up, her eyes frighteningly empty. “He never cared. I shouldn’t have hoped for love that was never mine. Maybe this… all of this… is just my punishment for being a fool.” “But the humiliation ends here,” she whispered, the words a vow. “Now, I have to leave him. For good.” Noa seemed to wrestle with something, then finally nodded. “Then that’s what we do. Find a new job. Start fresh. I’m with you.” That night, Lily fell asleep with tears and a shattered heart, but when the sun rose the next morning, she woke as someone new. After breakfast, she tied her hair into a neat bun, sipped her coffee, and opened her laptop. She began sending her resume to every company she could find—small firms, startups, even multinationals in far-flung regions. She poured energy into each application, tailoring cover letters, tweaking her CV, and even reaching out to old industry contacts. But as the days passed, a chilling pattern emerged. *Dear Ms. Collins, we regret to inform you…* *Unfortunately, we are not proceeding with candidates associated with Hardison Corp at this time…* *While we value your experience, we have decided not to move forward…* Rejection after rejection. After three straight days and over a dozen applications, the truth was undeniable. “They’re all afraid of him,” Lily said hollowly one evening, staring at her inbox. “They’re afraid of David. No one wants to poach his secretary and face his wrath.” Noa was pacing the room, running a hand through her already messy hair. “Unbelievable! He pushes you away, then blocks your path! He doesn’t want you, but he doesn’t want anyone else to have you either! What kind of twisted game is he playing?” “I don’t know,” Lily whispered. “But I can’t stay stuck like this.” That night, Noa slammed her hand on the table with a force that made the mugs rattle. “Right. We’re going out.” Lily blinked at her. “What?” “You heard me. We’re going to a bar. Drinks, dancing, forgetting David Hardison exists. You’ve been moping for days. It’s time to blow off some steam.” A weak smile touched Lily’s lips. “You just want an excuse to party.” “I want you back,” Noa said, her voice softening. “You deserve that.” Surprisingly, Lily agreed. David had been radio silent, Marina was likely recuperating somewhere lavish, and there was no reason to sit at home drowning in self-pity. She had every right to move on. Noa chose a trendy bar in the heart of downtown—one she claimed had “good music, people making bad decisions, and excellent cocktails.” By the time they arrived, the place was already pulsing with life. Neon lights flickered overhead, a deep bass thrummed beneath their feet, and the air smelled of citrus, perfume, and spilled liquor. At first, Lily stayed by the bar, sipping a fruity cocktail and watching Noa work the room, chatting and laughing. A small, genuine smile touched her lips at her friend’s vitality. After a second drink and a few more nudges from Noa, she finally let herself be pulled onto the dance floor. The music vibrated in her bones, a wave she surrendered to. For a while, she forgot everything—the accusations, the betrayal, the invisible chains David seemed to still have around her. She lost herself in the rhythm, the laughter, the glittering world where nothing mattered but the present. Until her gaze drifted toward the entrance and she saw them. David and Marina.