Chapter 4

The air froze.

One of the dogs let out a sharp bark, startlingly loud in the dead silence.

A female coworker shrieked, stumbling backward in her heels and nearly wiping out on the stone pavement.

Stacy's face turned from pale to crimson. Her lips trembled for several seconds before she finally choked out:

"Chloe, what... what is the meaning of this?"

I looked at her, then glanced at Julian, whose face had gone completely dark.

"Stacy," I said calmly, "I told you three times last week that this wasn't my house.”

“You insisted on coming anyway. I couldn't stop you from boarding the bus, but you can't stop the actual owner from throwing you out, can you?"

"You!" Stacy pointed a shaking finger at me. "If you knew this would happen, why didn't you explain it clearly?!"

"I did. Before you even drafted the invite, I said no. It's all in the chat logs. You told me I lacked team spirit."

Stacy was struck dumb. Whispers broke out among the staff.

"Wait... this really belongs to someone else?"

"Damn, so Chloe was telling the truth the whole time..."

"What do we do now? We drove all the way out here..."

Julian's composure had completely cracked.

He glared at me, the suave demeanor completely gone.

"Chloe, even if that's the case, why didn't you coordinate with Stacy beforehand? Leaving your entire team stranded outside—do you think that's professional?"

"Julian," I met his gaze, "I communicated with her three times. Once in the meeting, once in the group chat, and once in a private message. She told me not to ruin the fun. Tell me, how else was I supposed to communicate?"

Julian choked on his words.

Stacy was practically vibrating with rage. "Chloe! Watch your tone! Is that how you talk to our director?!"

"Stacy," I turned to her, "my tone is more than generous. I didn't call the cops, I didn't have their security drag you off, and I gave the property owner a heads-up.”

“Do you have any idea what kind of temper Scott Sterling has? Last month, some rich kid blocked his private gate with a sports car. The car was towed and crushed, and the kid spent a week in holding."

Stacy went dead silent.

Several coworkers were already backing away, quietly tugging their friends toward the coach.

Julian stood rigid, his shoulders tight, but his polished facade was crumbling by the second.

Ray watched the scene, then turned back to me.

"Miss Vance, Mr. Sterling is waiting. If you're finished here, please follow me inside."

I nodded, took two steps forward, and then paused to look over my shoulder.

"Oh, by the way, Stacy," I added pleasantly, "my parents' motel is right down the alley.”

“ Twenty-five bucks a night, hot water runs until nine. If you guys have nowhere to go, feel free to support our small family business. After all... team spirit, right?"

Stacy's face turned the color of an overcooked beet.

I didn't spare her another glance and walked through the gates behind Ray.

Behind me, Julian's suppressed roar echoed across the driveway: "Everyone on the bus! Get back on the damn bus! Haven't you embarrassed yourselves enough?!"

The heavy iron gates clanged shut, locking the noise outside.

The courtyard was completely tranquil. The air was thick with the sweet, rich fragrance of blooming osmanthus trees lining the stone walkway.

Ray led me past a massive stone screen and through a circular archway.

A three-story villa stood by a steaming outdoor thermal pool, petals floating across the clear water.

On a lounge chair by the edge sat a man.

In his early thirties, dressed in a charcoal lounge set, he was looking down at his phone. Hearing our footsteps, he raised his head.

Scott Sterling had sharp, chiseled features, a strong jawline, and dark hair carelessly swept back.

When he wasn't smiling, he looked dangerously aloof. But right now, the corner of his mouth was curled in amusement, as if he had just witnessed a fun comedy show.

"Here already?" He set down his phone. "Are your coworkers still outside?"

"They're leaving," I said, stopping a few feet away. "Mr. Sterling, thank you. I'm sorry for causing you trouble today."

"Trouble?" He picked up a porcelain cup and took a sip. "Not at all. It was entertaining."

I took out my phone and checked WhatsApp—specifically, the chat where I was still lurking before they kicked me.

Stacy had posted an update: Today's retreat is canceled due to bad weather. Everyone head home.

Someone immediately replied: Stacy, the forecast says clear skies and 75 degrees?

Stacy didn't answer.

Another coworker asked: Wait, what about Chloe? Why did she go inside with those guys?

She climbed the social ladder, obviously, Toby chimed in. Unbelievable. Pretending to be an innocent nobody this whole time.

Looking at Toby's text, my lips curled into a smirk.

Scott noticed. "Something funny?"

"Nothing," I said, putting my phone away. "Just my coworkers running their mouths."

He hummed noncommittally and gestured toward the stone bench across from him. "Sit. The osmanthus is blooming. It's the best time for tea."

I sat down. The stone seat was cool, but the warm mist rising from the pool brushed over my face.

"Mr. Sterling," I said, "I really appreciate it. If you hadn't sent Ray out, they would've forced their way onto the property."

"Don't mention it." Scott poured a cup of osmanthus oolong tea and slid it across the table. "You gave me fair warning, so I was prepared. Though..."

He looked at me, a hint of curiosity in his dark eyes.

"How much do they pay you at that firm?"

I paused. "About... thirty-five hundred a month."

He nodded slowly. "Thirty-five hundred. And you take that kind of disrespect for thirty-five hundred?"