Chapter 2

I gave a small, forced bow to Camilla.

"Director Camilla, I was wrong. I shouldn't have questioned your abilities, and I shouldn't have foolishly hoped for a review of my application."

She didn't respond for a long time.

Just as I was about to look up, Adrian pressed down on my lower back, hard.

He leaned close to my ear, his voice a low whisper.

"I promised her father I wouldn't let her feel slighted. Just take it for her, play along."

He pushed my back down a few more inches, and a searing pain shot through me.

Yes, Camilla's father had helped him once. He owed her father, I get it. He's repaying a debt.

But what about me?

Once, while accompanying him on a site inspection, a machine malfunctioned.

Without a second thought, I rushed forward to shield him, taking the brunt of it.

A control lever slammed into my lower back, causing a severe, lasting injury.

Back then, he'd looked at me with red eyes, calling me reckless.

He'd massaged my back every single day for my recovery.

But now, he was pressing down on the very back I'd injured for him, forcing me to apologize to the person who had wronged me.

What a pathetic way to repay a debt.

Those brief ten seconds stretched out like an eternity.

When I finally looked up again, my back felt like it had snapped; I could barely straighten.

Camilla gasped, feigning concern as she looked at me.

"Oh, I almost forgot, Skylar got that back injury for Adrian. Adrian, you really don't know how to show compassion. It's so disheartening!"

Adrian's hand suddenly released me, his gaze clouded.

"N-nothing else. You can go."

I bit down on my lip, my jaw trembling.

Gritting my teeth, I forced my spine straight against the tearing pain and walked out.

Camilla’s words were the most painful.

There were so many ways to make me apologize, to "play along."

But he chose the one that would cause me the most physical pain.

It took me a long time to recover at my desk before I had the strength to hand my drafted resignation letter to my supervisor.

He had tried his best to fight for me regarding the failed promotion.

But Adrian's "no" was something he couldn't overturn.

"You've given seven years to this company, Adrian knows your contributions deep down. You're still young, there are many more opportunities ahead. Are you sure you don't want to wait a bit longer?"

"These years," "ahead," "next time," and "wait a bit longer" had practically become etched into my ears.

It was "next time" whenever I asked Adrian when we could go public with our relationship after our intimate moments.

It was "wait a bit longer" every time I failed to get a promotion and asked when I'd have a chance to stand beside him.

It was "next time" whenever my parents pressured me to get married, and I asked him when he'd come home to meet them.

I never doubted my own resolve, but I couldn't change the outcome he'd already planned for me.

I shook my head, smiling faintly, helplessly.

"Twenty-eight isn't that young anymore. My peers are already married with kids. I can't keep failing to hold onto my health, my career, or a family, can I?"

He said nothing, looking at my pale face.

He signed his name with a sigh of regret.

"You can leave after you finish your hand-off this week."

"I won't tell Adrian yet, to spare you any trouble these next few days. Besides, your current position doesn't require you to report directly to him."

I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Marcus."

After submitting the form, a message from Adrian popped up on my phone.

[How's your back? I bought some ointment, I’ll rub it in for you tonight.]

This was his usual way of acknowledging he'd gone too far without actually apologizing. It was his subtle olive branch.

I used to think this was his way of showing affection, and I’d even playfully flirt back.

Now, I saw it for what it was: just a sugar cube to keep me from slipping out of his control.

[No need to trouble yourself. I've already booked a massage therapist to come over.]

According to company tradition, promotions were usually celebrated with a team dinner, hosted by the management.

I used my pre-booked massage as a polite excuse to decline.

But then, Camilla, with a wounded expression, tugged at my arm.

"Is Skylar upset that I got the promotion over her? Is that why you're making excuses?"

"Anyone else can miss it, but not you. I really want your sincere blessing."

My brows furrowed, and I was about to speak.

Adrian, who had just tacitly approved my leaving, now chimed in.

"Everyone else is going, so it's not right for you to skip it, is it? Don't be so petty. As a senior employee, you should be able to let things go. Don't make a scene."

"When can't you get a massage?"

I froze, a bitter pang twisting in my gut.

I should have recognized Adrian’s cold indifference long ago.

My feelings would always be secondary to greater interests.