Part 4

Antony was taken aback when he stepped out of his apartment lobby and found a beautiful woman in a sexy red dress waiting for him. The stunning model, currently serving as the brand ambassador for his company, waved her hand adorned with expensive diamonds and greeted him with her signature smile. Instead of returning the smile, Antony gave her a sharp look.

Lately, this woman had been crossing boundaries, much to Antony's annoyance. Despite explicitly instructing her not to invade his private space, Anastasia seemed far more stubborn than he had anticipated. Should he instruct his apartment security to blacklist her as a visitor? Of course, he could do that; he paid handsomely for their services.

"What are you doing here?" Antony asked flatly.

"Today, I'll be signing a new contract with Coskun Company. So, why don't we go together?" The woman inquired with a teasing manner. Antony merely raised an eyebrow and, without saying much, walked away, leaving her behind.

His chauffeur was already waiting, even holding the car door open for him. Antony got in first and allowed Anastasia to make her way to the other side. He wasn't the type to be overly courteous to a woman, like opening doors for her, especially when she was not much different from his employees. No special treatment was warranted.

After closing the door, his driver returned to the driver's seat and smoothly accelerated the car.

"What about the dinner event tomorrow?" Anastasia suddenly spoke up. Antony furrowed his brow, trying to recall which event he had to attend tomorrow.

As the leader of a major company, despite Antony's reluctance to socialize, there were times he had to attend events hosted by partner companies. If such occasions required him to bring a date, Antony had recently designated Anastasia as his companion.

Not because he had feelings for her. This arrangement was purely business. Antony needed to maintain his image, especially in the eyes of his competitors. Making Anastasia his companion was part of the agreement she had willingly entered into. Let others speculate about their relationship, but the company officials knew the nature of the arrangement they were currently involved in.

Although in the eyes of others—especially men—Anastasia is beautiful, in Antony's eyes, her beauty and the allure of her body cannot arouse his passion. Up to now, Anastasia—or any other woman—has not been able to ignite his desire. Nothing has been able to disturb his feelings. In Antony's eyes, their presence is nothing more than a shield for life.

They arrive at Coskun Company. Antony intentionally instructs his driver to go straight to the company's basement reserved for executives' parking. He no longer stops his car in front of the building to avoid public scrutiny. He doesn't want to hear more gossip about himself and Anastasia, especially today, with a major meeting in his office. He doesn't want to tarnish his image in the eyes of his subordinates.

Antony gets out of his car, and somehow, with her high heels, Anastasia can move quickly and match his steps. The woman intentionally embraces Antony's arm tightly, preventing him from letting go.

"There's someone else here," she whispers in his ear. And those words make Antony stop his rejection. Okay, he has to maintain his image, he thinks to himself.

They continue walking towards the elevator, and it seems that the person Anastasia mentioned is also following them. Antony enters the elevator, and as he turns around, he can see her. A beautiful girl wearing a long-sleeved black shirt intentionally folded to half sleeves, a knee-length pencil skirt, and black shoes with a five-centimeter heel. A casual look that is the complete opposite of Anastasia's appearance.

The girl looks so beautiful and radiates an inexplicable aura that Antony can't describe in words. What catches Antony's attention is the cold gaze the girl gives him, even if only for a moment, before she turns around and faces away from him.

If, until now, Antony has received admiring looks from women he has just met, this time is different. And this response disturbs him enough.

Okay, if the girl doesn't greet him, Antony concludes that she is not one of his employees. So who is she?

Antony glanced at the documents in the girl's hand. Perhaps she's one of the applicants? He wondered in his mind. Observing the floor the girl was heading to, Antony speculated that she might be one of the subordinates of his associate or an employee from his branch. The fifteenth floor is designated for the company's meetings.

Antony observed the girl from behind, her black hair styled in a simple modern bun. Strands of hair escaping from the bun made her graceful nape visible, even though it was covered by her shirt collar. The woman had small shoulders, and though not conventionally slim like a model, she had appealing curves in all the right places.

Exciting. That was the word that crossed his mind about the girl. Antony was surprised because, for the first time in years, he felt that way about someone he had just seen for the first time.

Earlier, Antony caught a whiff of a soft fragrance in the air when the girl turned away from him. Something suddenly felt constricted below. It wasn't because of Anastasia, whom he knew had been trying to entice him by clinging to his arm and occasionally touching the front of her shirt while nuzzling his neck.

No, it wasn't because of that. Antony completely ignored Anastasia the moment he saw this girl in front of him.

Yes, his attention was solely on the girl in front of him. And if only the elevator were lined with mirrors, he was sure he could see her glancing in his direction. Even though he didn't know what was on her mind, Antony saw the beautiful head shaking slowly.

Right on the fifteenth floor, the girl exited the elevator without even a glance in his direction.

For him—a man who usually received glances from women, old or young—her indifferent attitude slightly wounded his ego.

The elevator doors closed again, and the next moment, he let go of Anastasia's hand, which by now had made him uncomfortable.