Chapter 1
### Sudden Change Dusk settled heavily over the city. The inside of the car was silent as a tomb, with Alice Westwood seated quietly beside Thomas Gray. She glanced over, noting the way he leaned against the seat, his eyes almost closed, brows furrowed as if fighting against a weariness that clung to him like a heavy blanket. He looked utterly exhausted, and Alice didn’t dare make a sound, terrified of disturbing his peace. Outside the window, the world blurred by in flashes of color and light; they were nearly at the venue for his mother’s birthday party. It was a big deal—a celebration that demanded every detail to be perfect. Thomas's mother had even enlisted a stylist for her hair, putting pressure on Alice to uphold a flawless image. Tentatively, Alice tugged at Thomas’s sleeve, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thomas, we should be there in about ten minutes.” “Hmm…” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. He squinted his eyes open, noticing her hand resting on his sleeve. Reflexively, he shifted away. Disappointment flickered in Alice's eyes but was quickly masked by a gentle smile. “You know, at your mom’s party, we—” Suddenly, a car careened towards them, hurtling forward with reckless speed. The driver of their vehicle swerved hard to the side, and in an instant, Alice felt the equilibrium shift. Her body lunged forward; adrenaline spiked as her world turned chaotic. With lightning reflexes, Thomas grabbed her, pulling her into his embrace, but there was still a sickening jolt as she slammed against the front seat. In a blink, Alice's consciousness spun away. “Call an ambulance!” The fierce urgency of Thomas's voice was the last audible fragment as her mind painted a reel of fragmented memories—betrayal, poison, divorce—a whirlwind of past torment flashed through her mind like an old film in overdrive. When she came to, she found herself in a hospital room. “My baby girl! How could this happen?” A wretched cry pierced the air, and Alice turned to see her mother, Mary Westwood, crumpled against the bed, her expression a storm of pain and relief. Alice reached out weakly toward Mary, who looked up, her face suddenly brightening. “Diana, you’re awake!” Mary exclaimed dramatically, leaning forward. “I was so worried. If something had happened to you, I don’t know what I would do.” “I’m okay, Mom,” Alice murmured, her skin pale but her voice soothing. In the stillness that followed, memories of what she had just experienced surged back unbidden. In her previous life, she had endured endless harassment, had been scorned by those around her, misunderstood by Thomas, forced into an unwanted engagement end. It had all ended in humiliation. Not a single soul had offered her a shred of comfort or warmth as she shed her bitter tears. The puppet master behind it all had been Emily Westwood—a name she now despised. Emily would be at her mother’s soirée, already plotting to meddle in Alice's hard-won happiness. But this time, rebirth had handed her a second chance, and she wouldn’t remain passive while others pushed her around. And as for Thomas? He was no angel either. A chill crept through Alice as she gathered herself, flexing her wrist. She faced her mother again. “Where’s Thomas?” Mary’s eyes sparkled knowingly; her daughter had always harbored a deep crush on him. “Oh, you mean little Thomas? He’s right next door. And you know what? He’s pretty banged up himself.” “Really?” Alice echoed, tightening her grip around the IV stand before turning on her heel toward the door. Alarm bells rang in Mary’s head as she watched Alice’s dangerous resolve. “Diana, where do you think you’re going?” “You’re not fully healed yet!” Mary implored. Alice took a calming breath, forcing a smile to her lips. “I just need to see Thomas.” “Can’t it wait? You can see him later,” Mary urged, her voice rising with concern. “I can’t wait.” Alice tossed her hair back, her expression shifting from tender to icy steel. “I have to go now.” With that, she pushed the door open, leaving her mother’s anxious protests hanging in the air as she declared, “I need to divorce that bastard.” Meanwhile, in the room next door, Thomas had just regained consciousness, his hand instinctively cradling his throbbing head. Blinking against the stark fluorescent lights, he took stock of his surroundings, confusion settling in. “How’s Alice?” he asked absently, a cold detachment coating his words. His assistant replied dutifully, “Miss Westwood is resting in the other room.” “Good,” he said, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, but a pulse of discomfort continued to thrash inside his skull. It felt as if some buried memory was trying to claw its way into the surface of his consciousness. Probably just work stress, he assured himself. Just then, he heard the sound of the door opening. His gaze snapped up to see— Alice stood there, one hand poised mid-air while the other rolled the IV stand toward him, approaching slowly with a smirk curling her lips. “Hmm…” Thomas stared, bewildered. “How are you feeling?” she asked casually, before her tone shifted drastically. “Let’s get a divorce.” The words collided in the air, shocking them both. Thomas searched her face, hunting for any sign that this wasn’t serious. She looked perfectly put together, yet her expression was resolute as if she’d finally made a choice. “Is this a joke?” he asked, brow pinching in confusion. “Did you wake up properly?” Alice’s silence was deafening, her resolve radiating like a chilling wave. The throbbing in Thomas’s head spiked. He pressed his temples, sensing the rising commotion in the room—a storm of frustration and disbelief. “You deserved better than this, Alice," he said, failing to mask the bitterness creeping into his voice. “Goodbye, Thomas. The only choice I need to make now is to cut you out of my life." Their gazes locked, and suddenly an invisible line had been drawn, one that neither was prepared to cross.
Chapter 2
Let's Get Divorced The hospital room was thick with an oppressive silence, the air taut as Thomas Gray and Alice Westwood faced off in an unyielding stalemate. Eleanor Baker, who had been watching nervously from the sidelines, struggled to process the shock unfolding before her. Who would have thought that Alice, once so hopelessly devoted to Thomas, would boldly declare she wanted a divorce? Thomas's face was frozen in cold disbelief as he looked at Alice, but his mind churned with countless thoughts. He fought to keep his emotions in check, adopting a softer tone in an attempt to communicate. “Alice Westwood, this is unreasonable. You can’t just throw around divorce like it’s nothing.” Alice let out a humorless laugh, pressing her fingers to her temple as if staving off a headache. “I’m not being unreasonable, Thomas. I’m dead serious.” He had ignored her for so long, and now, all of a sudden, he didn’t want the divorce? Did he think she was just sulking, a petulant child in a tantrum? How delusional could he be? After all that time, how had she ever been attracted to someone so emotionally disengaged? The urge to unleash a furious tirade bubbled up inside her, but she held back, choosing instead to silently shred him to pieces in her mind. Her unvoiced critiques felt like daggers to Thomas, who had been trying to present an image of calm. Learning that Alice had been disparaging him in silence only deepened his agitation. With a storm brewing beneath her façade, Thomas could no longer maintain his composure. His mood was plunging as he cast her a brooding glare. Alice, sensing that arguing with this stoic mannequin was futile, turned to leave. Suddenly, an idea struck her. She shot him a sidelong glance and said, “Oh, by the way, the divorce papers will be sent your way as soon as they're ready. Don't forget to sign.” Before Thomas could respond, she breezed out of the room, the door crashing shut behind her. The pressure in the room dropped dramatically, leaving Eleanor trembling beside Thomas. Watching him hang his head, she assumed he was either grieving or in shock. “Sir, maybe Alice is just upset. You’ve been so buried in work lately; she probably feels neglected.” Sweat beaded on Eleanor's brow as she carefully chose her words. “You know how emotions can run high.” Thomas remained silent, suddenly overwhelmed with fatigue. He slumped against the back of the hospital bed and covered his eyes with his hand, feeling strangely hollow. … Meanwhile, Alice felt a strange sense of exhilaration after suggesting divorce. For the first time, she felt utterly free. It was almost ridiculous how a minor injury had led to not just recovering her body but also liberating her spirit. Now that she was mostly healed, she was ready to check out. Suddenly, a thought popped into her mind—her best friend, Lily Hawkins. She quickly dialed Lily’s number, her voice bubbling with excitement. “Get to the hospital, now!” “What's going on, princess? Why are you still at the hospital?” Lily's voice was laced with confusion. “I got divorced,” Alice said, her tone as matter-of-fact as if she were recounting what she had for lunch. Lily, on the other end, gasped. “What?” Before long, Lily stormed into the hospital room, her eyes wide with disbelief. She smacked Alice on the forehead playfully, still trying to wrap her head around the news. “Did I just hear you say you divorced Thomas Gray?” Alice reclined comfortably against her pillows, enjoying the moment, but before she could respond, a loud crash at the door interrupted them. Alice opened her eyes to see a middle-aged woman storming in with a purse in hand, clearly ready for battle. “Alice Westwood! Get up!” Elizabeth Gray’s shrill voice sliced through the air, her finger jabbing at Alice like a weapon. “What kind of person are you? My son, Thomas, is seriously hurt, and here you are, lounging around?” “If something had happened to him, could you have handled that on your own?” she continued, the drama intensifying. Every word was a vicious accusation targeting Alice for not tending to Thomas. Alice smirked, memories of past moments flashing through her mind. Good riddance to this condescending woman, a reminder of all the pain she’d endured. “Thomas isn’t a child, Elizabeth. He’s grown. He can take care of himself.” Lily, picking up on the tension, chimed in. “Exactly! I mean, with all his money, he could easily hire a nurse.” Now feeling cornered, Elizabeth flushed with anger, her fists balled at her sides. “You dare say that?” “Just what I’m saying. You two aren’t children.” Alice waved dismissively, a smile tugging at her lips. “Now, if you’re done, could you please leave? I’m tired and would like to sleep.” Elizabeth, flustered and defeated, marched out of the room, headed straight for Thomas’s door. She barged in and confronted him, voice laden with drama. “Thomas! You won't believe what Alice just told me!” Thomas, lost in thought, kept his eyes glued to his notebook, his mind racing with turmoil. It was hardly a surprise that Alice was frustrated—hadn’t he sensed that disdain coursing through her thoughts? “Didn’t I tell you? I just don’t care,” he muttered, simply wanting some quiet to untangle his current feelings. Elizabeth was undeterred, pacing his room. “Alice isn’t fit to care for you. Didn’t she even come to check on you?” “She doesn’t belong in our family,” she insisted, her judgments fiery and relentless. “Enough, Mom,” he snapped, feeling overwhelmed. The turmoil Alice’s divorce declaration had stirred was already too much. The last thing he needed was more nagging about her behavior. “Just leave me alone for a while. I need to think.”
Chapter 3
**Tough Love Doesn’t Taste Sweet** Elizabeth Gray stood in disbelief, staring at her brother, Thomas Gray, who remained aloof, unfazed by her ranting. Frustrated, she stomped her foot, “So now you’re just ignoring me?” Thomas sighed softly, his silence only fanning her flames. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth, “let’s see if I’ll bother with you anymore.” The door slammed shut, leaving an echo that swallowed the air in the room. It was clear to everyone that Elizabeth had stormed off to confront Alice Westwood. Her agitation was palpable, and Thomas felt a wave of concern for Alice; her mood couldn’t be good either. As Thomas rose to his feet, pain shot through him—a sharp reminder of the injury he hadn’t fully healed. Eleanor Baker, his ever-dutiful assistant, rushed forward, steadying his frail form. “Sir, where do you think you’re going?” “To find Alice Westwood,” he replied, a hint of resolve in his voice as he took a tentative step forward. “But, sir, Miss Westwood… she’s just been discharged from the hospital.” The room fell silent again, the weight of his expression thick enough to cut. But Eleanor’s concern only deepened. She held her breath, bracing herself for his next command. “Get the discharge papers ready.” Eleanor's brow furrowed in disbelief. “But sir, you’re still recovering.” Thomas shrugged off her worries, deftly unbuttoning his hospital gown with practiced ease. His other hand retrieved his suit jacket, the action both casual and defiant. An hour later, he was nestled in the back of his luxury SUV, eyes closed, but his mind betrayed him. Every time he drifted into thought, Alice’s face flashed behind his eyelids—an invasion he could not counter. “Sir?” Eleanor’s cool voice pulled him back. “Run to King’s Market and grab that bag I sent you a picture of. Deliver it to Alice Westwood. Make it quick.” Eleanor blinked, taken aback. “Sir, are you sure about this?” Thomas merely turned to gaze out the window, the world a blur. Why did he care about Alice all of a sudden? Was it because he could hear her thoughts now? Or was it the divorce she had mentioned that stirred something in him? He didn’t understand it himself—was he really trying to charm her into submission? Surely she wouldn’t reject him after this. Meanwhile, the mood on Alice’s side was far from light. She clutched her phone, fixated on the text exchange with Henry Westwood. Her best friend, Lily Hawkins, leaned in, concern written all over her face. “What’s going on?” Lily asked, noting the tension in Alice’s jaw. “Henry’s asking me to come back to Westwood Manor,” Alice replied, her tone biting. “You know he never does that without some hidden agenda.” Lily scoffed. “Oh please, he’s just fishing for drama. You think he wants to see you out of concern?” Alice remained contemplative, her eyes distant. There had been whispers in their social circle about the “real” Westwood heiress, casting her in the shadow of envy. The tabloids would relish any misstep she made. She refused to give them that satisfaction. “You should take Thomas with you,” Lily suggested tentatively. “Having him there might keep the vultures at bay.” Alice chuckled dryly, shaking her head. “His busy schedule? Please. He wouldn’t even spare a second for me. I doubt he’s even aware of my existence anymore, let alone have the time to show up.” “And what about Emily Westwood?” Lily interjected, a mischievous smile creeping onto her face. “She’d definitely get his attention.” “Exactly,” Alice muttered, bitterness coating her words. “That guy would forget I was ever here if she showed up.” Then a thought hit her, sharp and exhilarating. “But if I’m heading into that lion’s den, I’d better dress to kill.” A smirk crossed her lips as she flounced toward the dressing room, fingers dancing over ornate gowns. This time, she wouldn’t hold back. She instructed Lily to paint on the makeup like armor, preparing her for any emotional skirmishes that awaited. Just as she emerged, ready to conquer the world, she heard a familiar voice shout, “Miss Westwood, hold up!” Turning, she saw Jack Underwood, Thomas’s assistant, rushing toward her, his expression a mix of urgency and anxiety. “Miss Westwood,” he wheezed, “Sir Thomas sent this for you.” He extended a bright orange package, clearly a gift. Alice’s pulse quickened as she recognized the telltale wrapping. It was the exact bag she had been drooling over on social media. “He bought this for me?” she muttered, disbelief washing over her. “Miss Westwood, he said if you don’t want it, you have to return it to him personally,” Jack added, a hint of awkwardness in his tone. Before she could process, anger surged through her. This was typical of Thomas. A rich jerk attempting to buy her off. “Tell him to shove it,” she said, voice thick with disdain. “Return it to him. I won’t accept charity—especially not from him.” Jack hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. “But…” With a sharp inhale, she whipped the door open of her luxury ride, tossing the bag into the passenger seat with a huff before speeding off, tires screeching in protest. Moments later, she stormed into Thomas’s office, bag in hand, her heart racing with indignation. He was lounging in his chair, unfazed, as if he knew she’d come charging in. “What do you want?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “Take your stupid gift back,” she spat, shoving the package at him. His gaze flickered to the bag, then returned to her, his features calm yet piercing. “Alice, what’s gotten into you?” She was nearly seething. This was it. “You’ve been so caught up in your world for years, while I’ve been here, bending over backward for you. Why now?” He paused, visibly unsettled by her words. “You’ve been absent when I needed you. You think you can just waltz in with a bag and make it all go away?” She felt herself losing control, her anger blending with hurt. Thomas opened his mouth, hesitated, then spoke her name softly. “Alice…” “Save it,” she cut in. “It’s been long enough. We’re just not right for each other anymore. Tough love doesn't taste sweet.” Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel, leaving him with a whirlwind of emotions, her heart pounding a rhythm of resolve as she stepped back into the chaos of the life she was choosing—one without him.
Chapter 4
**Family Ties** “Alice Westwood.” Just as Alice Westwood's fingers brushed the doorknob, she heard Thomas Gray call her name. She paused, the sound of shuffling behind her making her heart rate quicken. Turning around, she caught sight of Thomas, already standing up, his long arms reaching for his coat as he strode towards her. “What are you doing?” she asked, instinctively backing away. Thomas met her gaze, his expression calm and steady. In one smooth motion, he stepped in front of her and swung the door open. He glanced over his shoulder, giving her a sidelong look. “We’re leaving together.” “You aren’t working anymore?” He shot her a look that could only be described as incredulous. “The workday is done. I’m taking you back to the Westwood Household.” As they stood in the foyer of Westwood Manor, a chilling wail pierced the air, slicing through the facade of normalcy. That heart-wrenching cry echoed, igniting a dark anticipation in Alice. *Emily Westwood, I can’t wait to see how you play your part.* Thomas raised an eyebrow but said nothing, the silence stretching between them like a taut wire. “Miss Westwood has returned,” said the butler, bowing slightly. Alice nodded absently, her gaze quickly darting to see her mother, Helen Westwood, clutching a woman to her chest, sobs wracking her body. Nearby, her father, Henry Westwood, stood with his head bowed, concern etched across his features. It didn't take a genius to deduce the identity of the sobbing woman: Emily Westwood, the very person who had caused Alice so much torment in her past life. Watching the scene unfold, Alice felt like a ghost in her own home. The boundaries separating her from them had never felt sharper, despite years of shared history. Her silence deepened, her thoughts swirling like storm clouds. Throughout it all, Thomas quietly observed Alice, his presence a steadying force beside her. Eventually, he broke the silence. “Henry.” The sobbing ceased as though a switch had been flipped. Henry and the rest turned, surprise flickering across their faces upon seeing Thomas. “Ah, little Sheng has arrived,” Henry exclaimed, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Thomas, before sweeping toward Alice. Helen, noticing Alice standing quietly, began to loosen her grip on Emily and smiled through her tears. “Alice, this is your sister, Emily Westwood.” “You two must be meeting for the first time. Go on, say hello.” With a perfectly polished smile plastered on her face, Alice couldn’t help but snicker inwardly. *First time meeting? If only you knew I’ve seen your face hundreds of times, and I’ll remember it until the day I die, Emily Westwood.* Thomas's fingers twitched; he lowered his gaze, concealing whatever emotions brewed beneath the surface. “So this is my sister? She’s remarkably beautiful,” Alice feigned amazement. Emily’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, her doe-like expression amplifying her apparent fragility as she smiled up at Alice. “Hello, sister. You’re beautiful too.” Alice felt a surge of revulsion bubbling beneath her skin. Thomas settled beside Alice as they took their seats at the grand dining table, though they hadn’t touched a morsel of food. Emily, however, was already off to the races with her sob story. “Back at that other house, I did all the work. No one cared about me. To survive, I had to bite my tongue every single day, just praying for a better life.” She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, her tears flowing freely now. “Oh my sweet girl, you’ve suffered so,” Helen lamented, her eyes bright with tears as she bent her head. “Returning to my real home, I can’t believe how lucky you’ve been,” Emily continued, her voice quaking with false vulnerability. “I envy the life you had, sister. If only my life had been like yours, how wonderful that would be.” *How ironic that you would envy me for a life I took from you, without sparing a thought to the price you paid for your innocence.* Alice stifled a laugh, tilting her perfect chin up just a notch as she met Emily's innocent gaze with defiance. “Dear sister, things have a way of being predetermined, don’t they? A wild hog can never feast on fine grain; perhaps you ought to reflect on whether you really deserve it.” “You...,” Emily seethed, her eyes widening with indignation. Alice dramatically placed a hand over her mouth, “I’m just speaking my mind. No need to be upset, dear sister. Really, you shouldn't take it personally.” *Sorry, but I am directly referring to you. Let’s see how you respond to that.* Thomas chuckled softly, then resumed his neutral expression. It was only now that he recognized Alice's biting wit. Emily was left seething, her anger palpable as she chewed on her lower lip, struggling to find her words. Alice smirked inwardly. Well, quite frankly, she didn’t care for this family anymore. “I’ll be leaving this house on my own terms,” Alice announced, her dark eyes flickering like steel, locking onto Emily's with an intensity that sent chills down her spine. “Alice,” Helen spoke up, shocked by the acrimony flaring between her daughters. Yet, a flood of concern for Alice washed over her. “If that’s how you feel, I won’t argue,” Emily retorted, her earlier bravado faltering as she met Henry's steely gaze, silencing her again. “That’s out of the question,” Henry interjected, his tone sharp as he looked between Alice and Thomas, a shrewd glint in his eye. “Emily, don’t be foolish. Alice is still our child. And with little Sheng here, we wouldn’t want him to think we treat Alice poorly, would we?” Alice's heart sank at the realization. *I should have seen it clearly by now: I’m just a pawn in this game for profit. You’ve never cared about me, not once, Henry Westwood, or you, Emily Westwood.* Alice bit her lip hard, her fingers digging into her palm until she felt the sting of her own flesh. Suddenly, she felt a warm hand envelop hers, pulling her from her spiraling thoughts. She glanced down to find Thomas had clasped her hand, a silent support. Her heart fluttered momentarily, but she casually pulled away, hiding her inner tumult beneath a mask of indifference. Thomas, unfazed, spoke coolly. “Alice is free to make her own choices. If calling her here was to dictate her life, I believe this conversation is over.” Henry immediately caught on to Thomas's agitation, rising swiftly. A sideways glance at Emily had her clamping her mouth shut like a frightened child. “Come on, Alice,” he said, stepping closer with an air of desperation. “We need to talk. We can’t forget that even with Emily back, your mother and I love you.” “And little Sheng needs your help. After all, you’re still part of the Westwood Household, right?”
Chapter 5
**Not Again** Alice pressed her fingertips together, staring intently at Henry. Suddenly, she broke into a warm smile. “Thomas has been so busy lately. He made time today just to be with me. As for the collaboration, I’m afraid I can’t help right now.” Henry chuckled lightly but pushed his argument further. “Come on, Alice, you’re just throwing words around. It can’t be that hard, can it?” Alice felt a wave of impatience wash over her at Henry's relentless persistence. It was only during moments like this that he seemed to acknowledge her presence. With her lashes casting shadows over her cheeks, she gently declined, “Dad, I’ve told you, you’re better off talking to Thomas about this. I’m tired and just want to head home.” “Alice!” Henry’s voice trailed after her as she walked away. His hands clenched into fists, his frustration twisting into resentment as he watched her retreating figure. When had Alice become so uncontrollable? Maybe it would be better to have Emily get close to Thomas instead. The day had been dreary—an endless stretch of overcast rain. Now the clouds loomed heavy, and a soft drizzle began to fall. Alice halted at the entrance, only to notice Thomas quietly standing behind her. She looked up, the dark canopy of his umbrella looming above her. “What are you standing there for? I’ll drive you home.” Their silence was palpable as they made their way to the parking garage. When they reached the sleek black Bentley, Thomas opened the door for her, waiting expectantly. Alice finally broke the silence. “Thomas, we should get a divorce.” He froze, the grip on the car door tightening. “Why?” His voice was a strained whisper. His gaze pinned her down, searching her face for a crack in her resolve. She looked so determined, her expression void of any softness, as if she had made up her mind about ending their marriage. **What else could there be? I don't want to be tied to you any longer.** **After all this time, I’m just worn out.** Thomas's fingers twitched, caught in a whirlwind of emotions that raged in the dark pools of his eyes. He stepped closer, locking his gaze onto hers, inching forward until her back met the cold wall, forcing her to stop. “What do you want, Thomas?” she shot back, anger flaring in her chest. **What kind of game is this?** He chuckled darkly, his eyes narrowing as a powerful, nearly predatory aura engulfed her. “Why are you so intent on this divorce? You owe me a reason, at least.” Alice bit her lip, shoving him away with a forceful push. “I want a divorce. Why do I need to explain myself?” He stumbled backward a few steps, but Alice was already making a run for it, leaving him alone in a storm of confusion. Fueled by the rush of emotion and a desire to escape this battleground, she forgot about Emily hiding in the shadows. Once Alice was out of sight, Emily stepped out, her heart pounding as she faced Thomas, who looked as though he were coated in a thick layer of ice. “Where’s Alice?” she ventured, trying to sound casual, though her voice quivered. Thomas glanced at her with cold indifference. “What does it matter to you?” “You and Alice must have had a fight,” Emily observed, her eyes wide and innocent. “Maybe I can help?” “No thanks,” Thomas replied automatically, turning away as if she were nothing more than background noise. He hopped into the car, slammed the door shut, and sped away, leaving Emily behind in a whirlwind of unspoken words. Her lips trembled as anger and hurt bubbled beneath the surface. Fingernails dug deep into her palms, the pain a constant reminder of the turmoil Alice had thrust upon her life. --- Meanwhile, Alice burst through the door of the Hawkins home, her frustration still simmering. Lily lay on her bed, lazily applying a face mask. Upon seeing Alice, her response was casually calm. “Hey, you made it.” Since they both knew each other’s passcodes, they often intruded into each other’s space without hesitation. Seeing Alice collapse onto the bed with vacant eyes, Lily furrowed her brow. “Wow, what happened? Did your trip to Westwood Manor suck that much?” Alice remained silent, an overwhelming wave of memories washing over her from a time when weakness had governed her actions—when love had blinded her to the knives that had carved her fate. But not this time. She wouldn’t repeat the same mistakes. Lily sensed the turmoil swirling in Alice’s mind and offered, “You know, I could use an extra set of hands at work – and you used to study design, right? Why don’t you come help me out?” Alice shook off her gloom. That’s right. Leaving behind all that romantic mess meant focusing on herself and her career. The next day, Alice stormed into Lily’s office, clad in a sleek black outfit and carrying a stack of files as she strode confidently past her new colleagues. “Who is that? Never seen her around here before.” “Probably just another pretty face who tripped her way in.” Alice caught the tail end of their whispers but held her head high, unfazed by the judgment thrown her way. As she stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby, a familiar figure snapped her out of her thoughts. Standing there, arms crossed and brimming with arrogance, was Emily, demanding to see the boss. “I told you I’m the general manager of the Gray family! Get me in to see the boss—now!” Emily’s tone dripped with entitlement. The front desk assistant looked flustered, sweating under the pressure. “I’m sorry, Miss, but we require appointments to meet with the boss.” “Listen,” Emily snapped, “you really don't want to see how I can make your life miserable.” “Emily,” a cool voice interjected. Both women turned to see Alice standing next to Emily, unfazed and holding an air of calm amidst the chaos. “Well, well,” Emily sneered, eyeing Alice up and down. “What a surprise. Did you fall so low you’re now working for someone else?” Alice brushed off the jab with a playful glint in her eye. “I didn’t realize my sister had become such a child, throwing tantrums right in the lobby. Isn’t that a bit embarrassing for the Gray family?” The betrayal flashed across Emily's face, her skin tightening in fury. “Get your boss here! I want this woman fired!” She turned back to Alice, her smile icy. “You’ve dropped out of the family, Alice. Let’s see how you handle this.” “Handle what?” Suddenly, Lily stepped into the fray, inserting herself between the two women. “And who might you be?”
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