Chapter 3
Kian's face turned livid in an instant.
"Emily, how dare you mess with me? Do you have any idea what happens to people who cross me?" he roared, slamming his hand on the desk.
"I don't know," I said, slapping my internship resignation letter down in front of him. I copied his usual attitude, speaking with a hint of pity.
I sneered, "All I know is, a 'chief editor' who can't even bother to read the interviewee's work and has to rip off interns' ideas just to survive, well, things aren't going to end well for him."
With that, I turned and walked out.
His angry shouts and the crash of things being thrown echoed behind me.
As I walked out of the magazine office, the sun was warm and bright.
My phone buzzed.
The system: [The property deed for Unit 3201, Building A, Creekville Lane in the city center has been stored in the system space. Please claim it at your convenience.]
I hailed a cab and gave the driver the address for Creekville Lane.
Standing before the 360-degree floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing down at the city's endless traffic, I realized for the first time just how much of a rush it was to have everyone beneath my feet.
I snapped a photo of the city lights outside and posted it on my social media.
Location: [Creekville Lane.]
Caption: [New home, new beginning.]
My old coworkers were flooding the comments with [Whoa!] and [Take me with you.]
The next day, I heard that Kian had been booted from the magazine for stealing ideas and screwing up a major interview.
And that doubled the satisfaction.
I was enjoying some peace when the doorbell suddenly rang.
When I opened the door, I saw it was Kristian.
He must've somehow gotten my new address. He looked exhausted and disheveled, standing at the door with his eyes red and tired.
"Emily, I messed up. Can you forgive me?" His voice was hoarse, cracking with emotion. "Can we start over?"
I looked at Kristian and couldn't help but feel a surge of irony. It was almost amusing.
"Kristian, what makes you think, after all the sights you've seen, you still deserve to step back into my life?"
With that, I started to close the door.
But he blocked it with his hand, his eyes bloodshot and fixed on me, as if he'd finally made up his mind.
He said, "Emily, I know you're still upset with me. I messed up. I admit it.
"But please, hear me out. I know a secret about you, a secret your parents have been keeping from you all this time!"
Kristian's words hit me like a thunderclap.
A secret about me? I wondered what my parents possibly could be hiding from me.
Seeing my hesitation, Kristian clung to hope and pleaded, "Emily, just let me in. I'll explain everything. This is really important. It's about your true identity."
I looked at that calculating expression on his face and felt nothing but coldness inside.
He was resorting to such pathetic tricks to try to get me to notice him.
The system alerted: [Low-level lie detected. If the host falls for it, IQ decreased by 50 points.]
I smirked. "Sure."
I stepped aside to let him in.
A smug look flashed in Kristian's eyes. He thought he'd finally pulled it off.
He stepped into the entryway, taking in the spacious living room and the breathtaking river view outside, his eyes full of Jealousy.
Kristian asked, "Emily, where'd you get the money for a place like this? Did you..."
"Did I get myself a sugar daddy?" I finished for him.
I walked over to the bar, poured myself a glass of ice water, without even glancing his way.
"Kristian, your imagination is just as limited as your height," I said.
He was left speechless for a moment, his face turning red, but he stubbornly changed the subject.
He began, "Forget that, Emily. Just hear me out. About your true identity..."
"Go on," I said, taking a small sip of water. "I'm listening."
He cleared his throat and kicked off his flimsy act, full of loopholes.
He claimed I wasn't my parents' biological child, that they'd picked me up from some remote village.
According to Kristian, my birth parents were from some secretive, wealthy clan, and because of a family feud, I got tossed aside.
He spun the tale with so much drama, as if he'd seen it all with his own eyes.
I just sat there quietly, like I was watching a cringey solo performance.
When he finally finished, I asked, unimpressed, "That's it?"
"Yeah," Kristian said, his eyes full of hope. "Emily, don't be scared. I'll stick by you. We can go find your real parents together."
"Oh." I nodded, picked up my phone, and put the call on speaker.
As soon as the call connected, my mom's usual booming voice filled the room. "Emily, what is it? Are you running low on cash again? Let your dad send you some more."