Chapter 2

Instinctively, I wanted to close the door. I didn't want to deal with him.

But Dominic blocked it with his arm, frowning as he looked at me. "Are you avoiding me? Why?" He leaned in closer, studying my face. "Are you upset? Because of Celeste?"

I quickly shook my head. "No. I'm happy for you. You and Celeste finally get to be together."

His eyes flickered with something unreadable. He seemed... dissatisfied with my answer.

"Is that the truth? Or are you just being passive-aggressive?"

Then he scoffed.

"Iris, don't tell me you still haven't gotten over me. Three years ago at the company party, you kissed me when you were drunk. You think I didn't notice?"

"All these years, those little hints you tucked into your reports. That encrypted folder on your computer—the personal journal? I've read all of it. You thought you were hiding it so well. But the way you look at me? Everyone in this company can see you're in love with me."

"The smartest thing you ever did was never confess. Because if you had? I would've laughed in your face. Laughed at how pathetic and delusional you are."

He chuckled to himself, then walked over to my desk and yanked open the bottom drawer. He grabbed a thick stack of printed journal pages and scattered them across the floor, stepping on them.

"Iris, I handpicked you fresh out of college. I trained you. I gave you everything. And this is how you repay me? You knew I only loved Celeste. But you still wrote all this... feelings you had no right to have. Do you know how embarrassing this is? For both of us?"

He leaned down close to my ear, his voice low.

"I came here to tell you something. Yesterday, when I drank that wine, I saw the look in your eyes. You wanted to be the one to 'help' me, didn't you? Thank God you didn't. Because if you had, I would've been disgusted for the rest of my life. You're not worth it."

My heart clenched painfully. Even though I'd decided not to love him in this life, hearing those cruel words still hurt.

After warning me to stay away from him and not make Celeste uncomfortable, Dominic slammed the door and left.

I didn't want to be in their way anymore. I had to go out and finalize my transfer paperwork anyway, so I packed up and left.

That night, I deliberately waited until almost 10 p.m. to return to the office to pick up some things.

The moment I stepped into my office, I noticed something was wrong. My custom ergonomic chair—gone.

Then I saw it. Celeste had posted on social media: a selfie of herself sitting in a luxurious office chair. The caption read: "I just mentioned my back was sore, and he immediately gave me the best chair in the whole company. This is why it's so important to find a man with power, money, and thoughtfulness!"

She'd taken the chair Dominic had custom-ordered for me. Earlier this year, when my back injury flared up, Dominic had specially approved a budget of over $20,000 for a chair designed for long hours at a desk—because I was his "chief secretary."

He used to be so good to me. He knew what it meant to show that kind of special attention to a female subordinate. And yet, he let me fall for him. But now, from his position of power, he was telling me I had no right to love him.

And now? Celeste made one offhand comment, and Dominic didn't even bother telling me before he had my chair taken away.

Hearing me return, Dominic stood in my doorway and said coolly, "Celeste has back problems. I gave her your chair. Your injury's healed anyway. Any chair will do for you now."

I didn't even look up. "Mm," I murmured.

Dominic's frown deepened. He stared at me intently.

"Iris, didn't you used to hate it when I was nice to other people? Why aren't you throwing a tantrum now?"

"Are you plotting something?"

"I'm warning you—if you dare do anything to Celeste, I'll make sure you never work in this industry again."

I finally looked up. "I'm not trying to do anything to anyone. I just want to be left alone. And isn't this what you always wanted? For me to be more professional? You should be happy."

Dominic pressed his lips together. Then, almost like a sulking child, he repeated, "Fine. Fine. Fine. Iris, you're just great."

He slammed the door on his way back to his office. Whenever he said things like that, it meant he was angry.

But I wasn't going to comfort him anymore.

Whether he was angry or not didn't matter. Because soon, I'd be gone.