At the office...
Augustine was busy in a eting. Anne sat at her desk, reviewing files he had shared with her. She wore a soft beige blouse, sleeves rolled neatly, composed, thoughtful, fully imrsed in her work. She pressed the back of the pen against her lower lip and then marked certain points in the file.
gan strode up to Anne’s desk. She cleared her throat, demanding attention.
Anne looked up, her eyes narrowing the mont she saw who it was. "You?" She leaned back in her chair, arms folded.
With an air of haughty confidence, gan tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I need to speak with Augustine. It’s about the project."
"He is in a eting," Anne replied, her voice clipped and cool. "I’ll let you know when he is free. You can go now." She dropped her gaze to the file in front of her, treating gan like an unimportant interruption.
The dismissiveness struck a nerve. gan’s jaw tightened, but she forced herself to stay composed. Anne wasn’t just anyone; she was Augustine’s wife. Picking a fight with her could backfire in ways gan couldn’t afford.
"I’ll wait," gan said and dragged out the chair opposite Anne. Sat down, legs crossed, posture poised.
Anne’s eyes flicked up in surprise. She hadn’t expected that. She thought gan, with her unpredictable temper and sharp tongue, would retaliate. But she sat quietly.
Anne studied her for a mont, suspicion prickling at the edge of her thoughts. ’Has she really changed her attitude toward after knowing my relationship with Augustine? Or is this just a new strategy?’
"Why are you staring at like that?" gan scoffed. "Don’t think being Augustine’s wife gives you the right to intimidate ."
Anne let out a dry chuckle, not even bothering to look up. "Whatever," she murmured dismissively as she returned her attention to the file in front of her.
The silence returned, thick and uncomfortable. gan shifted in her seat, legs uncrossing and recrossing, fingers tapping on the armrest. She glanced at her wristwatch—only five minutes had passed. But it felt like an eternity, each second dragging by like molasses.
Restlessness coiled inside her. She couldn’t bear the quiet anymore.
"You know," she began, trying to sound casual, but her voice carried a sharp undertone, "a lot of won would do anything to get close to Augustine—marry him, be seen with him. And you..." She leaned back slightly, watching Anne for a reaction. "Even after marrying him, you kept it a secret. Why? Embarrassed? Or is it that you don’t actually love him?"
Anne was just about to respond when her phone buzzed sharply on the desk, slicing through the tension. The na Denis lit up the screen, and in an instant, Anne’s expression hardened.
’Why is he calling now?’ Her lips pressed into a thin line as confusion flickered in her eyes. She flipped the phone over, ignoring the call.
However, gan had caught the na. Her lips curled into a knowing smirk. She recalled Lorie’s gossip about Anne’s supposed crush on her forr boss, Denis—how she had once seduced him, how she might still carry a torch for him.
"Well, well..." gan drawled, her eyes gleaming with shrewdness. "Still thinking about getting back with your old boss, Denis?"
Anne lifted her eyes at her once more. A cool, sarcastic smile tugged at her lips. "You seem awfully curious about and my love life." She closed the file in front of her with a quiet thud and leaned forward slightly. "So let satisfy your curiosity. I love Augustine. He spoils rotten. And now... we are going on our honeymoon."
gan’s composure cracked. "What?" she gasped, her face stiffening, a pang of jealousy coiling in her chest. "Honeymoon?"
Anne’s smile deepened. She lowered her voice further. "Yes. And here is another little secret...He is so in love with , he can’t spend a mont without . Not a single night goes by when he doesn’t make love to ."
The words landed like a slap. gan sat frozen, her insides churning with envy and disbelief. Under the table, her hands curled into tight fists. She couldn’t understand it—what did Augustine see in Anne?
To gan, Anne was plain, forgettable, the kind of woman who faded into the background. There was no glamour about her, no pedigree, no wealth.
Just an ordinary woman. That’s all gan saw.
In contrast, gan considered herself the complete package—strikingly beautiful, polished, from a well-off family. She had charm, presence, and status – perfect for Augustine. She should be the one beside Augustine, not Anne.
She couldn’t hold back her anger.
"Do you really think he loves you?" she spat. "Don’t fool yourself. He is probably just playing with you. When he has had enough, he’ll throw you away."
Anne’s blood boiled, but gan kept going.
"n like Augustine don’t settle for won like you. You are a passing fancy, a phase. That infatuation won’t last. Sooner or later, he’ll realize you were never ant to be at his side."
Her words were sharp, piercing Anne’s heart.
Anne ground her teeth as a retort ford on her tongue, burning to be unleashed. But before she could speak, her phone rang again. She glanced down and froze.
It was the hospital.
A chill swept through her body. The tension with gan vanished in an instant, replaced by a flood of dread.
The last ti she had received a call from the hospital, her father had been rushed into the ICU. That terrifying mont still haunted her.
’Not again. Please, not again.’ Her thoughts spiraled.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for the phone.
"Hello?" Anne answered, her heart sinking.
"Is this Miss Anne Clare?" ca a gentle female voice. "Your father... Mr. Paule is awake."
For a mont, Anne couldn’t breathe. The words didn’t register at first—they floated in the air, unreal. Then it hit her.
Her father was awake.
"Really?" she gasped as she shot up from her chair, a burst of joy flooding through her. Her legs felt shaky, her pulse thundered in her ears.
"Yes. Can you co to the hospital?" the nurse asked.
"Yes—yes, I’m coming right now," Anne replied, barely able to contain her emotions. Her hands trembled as she ended the call, her eyes shimring with tears that threatened to spill. With hurried movents, she stuffed the file into the drawer, grabbed her bag, and turned to leave.
"Hey! Where are you going?" gan’s voice cut in sharply, trying to intercept her.
Anne paused briefly, glaring at gan. "None of your business." She shoved past gan.
"Wait—you!" gan called out angrily. "You can’t just leave like that."
But Anne was already halfway down the hallway, her pace fast, driven by a surge of urgency. She didn’t look back.
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