Chapter 3

I called the client to apologize. They saw that I was sincere and didn't make things difficult for me. By the end of the conversation, we'd scheduled a meeting for ten o'clock the next morning to finalize the contract.

News of this arrangement reached Matthew almost immediately. That evening, just as I returned to my hotel, his call came through.

He sounded surprisingly cheerful, a stark contrast to his earlier tone. "Daphne, you handled things well," he said.

I gave a cold "Mm" in response, which seemed to stifle his enthusiasm. His tone hardened almost instantly.

"Don't forget to pick up the watch for me on your way back. I've sent the address and order details to your phone," he said curtly before hanging up without waiting for a reply.

I placed my phone aside, drew a bath, and let the warmth soak away the weariness of the day. Afterward, I went straight to bed.

The contract was signed smoothly the next morning, and instead of indulging his request, I took the first flight home. Back at the company, I decided to deliver the contract directly to Matthew.

As I approached his office, lighthearted laughter spilled into the hallway. I hesitated at the door but eventually pushed it open.

"Don't you know how to knock before coming in?" Matthew's angry growl greeted me.

No sooner had he barked those words than a pen flew toward me, striking my forehead.

Lowering my head to hide the sting, I replied indifferently, "Apologies, Mr. Granges. I'll remember next time."

His expression shifted the moment he realized it was me. "Daphne? Why didn't you say something?" He rushed over, his fingers cupping my face as he inspected the spot where the pen had struck. His brows furrowed. "It's already swelling. Does it hurt?"

"Matty, you're so strict with others. You should hold me to the same standard," a lilting voice chimed in before I could respond.

I turned to see Eva lounging in his executive chair, watching the scene with amusement. When Matthew glanced in her direction, she put on a pitiable expression, lowering her head as if she'd been chastised.

"Whenever I rush in to deliver documents without knocking, Matty never throws pens at me," she said, her tone laden with false remorse. "I must not be good enough for him to correct me like he does with you."

The pretense in her act was painfully obvious, but Matthew softened nonetheless. "Eva, don't say that. You're the best assistant I've ever had."

"Really?" Eva perked up, her wide eyes brimming with calculated innocence as she turned to me. "Do you agree, Daphne?"

I had no desire to humor her theatrics. My gaze swept past her to the neatly arranged dishes on Matthew's desk: four side dishes, a bowl of soup, and two desserts.

Following my eyes, Matthew quickly offered an explanation. "Eva's stomach hasn't been well since the last business meeting where she had to drink. I felt bad and thought I'd help her recover."

Business meeting? I scoffed inwardly. More like a night of revelry at a bar.

Every major deal this company has ever closed, I handled personally. Matthew, despite his title as CEO, spent most of his time indulging in leisure. I was the one who drank so much at business dinners that I ended up in the hospital with a bleeding ulcer.

And what did he do? He came to visit, sure, but only to stand by as the nurses tended to me. He didn't offer a word of comfort, let alone cook for me.

Lost in thought, I didn't notice Eva until she was standing before me, slipping her hand into Matthew's as she smiled sweetly. "Matty made this meal himself. Daphne, why don't you join us?"

I glanced at their intertwined hands, feeling a pang in my chest that I couldn't suppress.

Looking up at Matthew, I caught him subtly signaling her to tone it down.

The irony made me laugh. I handed the contract to Eva instead. "Mr. Granges, since you and your assistant are busy enjoying your afternoon tea, I'll leave you to it. Eva, can you take care of filing this contract?"

I turned to leave, but Matthew grabbed my wrist.

I didn't look back, waiting for him to speak.

"Daphne," he said, a trace of exasperation in his voice, "Eva is still young. You shouldn't take her antics so seriously. Come on, sit down and eat with us."

His words struck something deep within me, though not as painfully as before.

It's true—when you've been hurt enough, even pain begins to feel distant.

"There's no need," I replied, shaking off his hand. "Enjoy your meal."

And with that, I walked away without a backward glance.