Chapter 5: Met With Her

"Prisley, you don't have to go tonight." Heather said, his tone heavy with melancholy.

"Why not? You already agreed with Steve."

Heather drew her closer, his embrace tightening. "I just... don't want you to go." He confessed, his gaze softening, a hint of vulnerability quite different from his previous icy cold.

Caught off guard by this rare display of emotion from Heather, Prisley felt a surge of warmth in her heart. Despite being together for four years, she had rarely seen this side of him.

Leaning into his chest, she was about to offer words of comfort when Heather abruptly released her, his gaze once again veiled in frost.

"You can go now." He walked out of the office, leaving Prisley behind.

Back at her own desk, Prisley couldn't shake off the feeling of confusion. This man...  he had been tender and affectionate moments ago, but now he seemed distant and cold.

She sighed, trying to make sense of it all.

Meanwhile, Heather struggled with his own confusion. The reason of Prisley's resignation had made him feel uneasy.

In light of Filla's return, her decision to leave him was deeply unsettling, especially since she seemed determined in her choice.

Heather's mood soured. All he longed for was Prisley's presence tonight, even if it meant just sharing the silence in the same room.

But he never begged, unable to articulate his desires directly to Prisley.

As Prisley pondered over the situation, she couldn't help but feel a pang of discomfort. One moment he was affectionate, the next he was distant. It was confusing.

Meanwhile, Steve was driving with a cheerful demeanor, a broad grin on his face.

"Prisley, you've been with Heather for quite a few years now, haven't you?" he remarked, his tone casual.

"Over four years," she replied.

"Aren't you tired of him yet? How about joining me? I really admire you," Steve suggested, his words laced with underlying intentions.

Prisley felt a wave of embarrassment. This guy... he clearly had ulterior motives.

"Thank you, Steve, but my job is decided by my boss. I can't make that decision for myself," she replied, trying to maintain a polite demeanor.

"Come on, being around Heather is so boring. All he does is work. If you were with me, I'd make sure you had fun, take you out to dinner, skiing, yachting, enjoying the finer things in life."

Steve, also the son of a rich family, whose family business was much smaller than Heather's.

Unlike Heather, he had no intention of returning to work for the family business, choosing instead to co-found Warner Tech with Heather while serving as Vice President at Warner's headquarters.

With his carefree attitude and penchant for luxury, Steve was always surrounded by luxury cars and beautiful women.

As Heather's confidant, Steve undoubtedly knew a thing or two about Heather and Prisley's relationship. How much he knew remained a mystery to Prisley. Unsure of how to respond, she forced a strained smile and looked out the window.

At the cocktail party, guests mingled in groups, engaging in lively conversation over drinks. Accompanying Steve, Prisley met several prominent figures.

Her natural charm and adept conversational skills ensured that everyone she interacted with was thoroughly entertained.

Later in the evening, Prisley sat down in a secluded corner to take a break. Steve approached her, two glasses of wine in hand.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked.

Prisley nodded with a smile. Her perception of Steve had changed slightly.

Despite his outwardly unreliable demeanor, when it came to serious matters, he showed unexpected competence .

She finally understood why Heather and Steve's friendship had lasted so many years.

"A toast to our first collaboration. Prisley, you're pretty impressive," Steve praised. "I’m doubling your overtime pay for today."

"The finance department might not like that," Prisley joked.

"I'll foot the bill myself."

"Well, my boss might not be pleased," Prisley chuckled.

"Heather? That vulnerable guy? If he dares to object, I'll beat him up for you."

"How could he be vulnerable?" Prisley found it hard to believe. After four years of working together, she had always perceived him as a person of strong character and temperament.

"You don't know? Despite his tough exterior, he's not that strong on the inside. Otherwise, why would he...?" Steve stopped himself in mid-sentence.

"Forget it. Or he’ll beat me.” 

Steve wisely decided to remain silent. Prisley rolled her eyes at him.

A glamorous woman had just walked past their seat.

"Hi, Filla, what a surprise to see you here!" Steve greeted her.

Filla?

Prisley's heart skipped a beat. The face before her was unmistakably the one she had tried to imitate countless times from a photograph.

Four years had passed, and she looked even more mature and seductive than in the picture.

Meeting Filla here was the last thing Prisley had expected. She wished she could escape this awkward situation.

"You're Heather's assistant, aren't you? I've heard of you," Filla said arrogantly.

"Yes, how did you know?" Prisley felt uncomfortable.

"Heather seems to be fixated on me. You bear quite a resemblance to me. A decent substitute."

Filla remarked, scrutinizing Prisley, who squirmed uncomfortably under her gaze.

"I think you may have misunderstood. Heather never intended to replace you with me," Prisley replied, her face pale as she struggled to control her inner turmoil.

"Really? But I heard you were even dressing like me?" Filla challenged.

"I tell you, a fake is always a fake and can never replace me."

"As long as I'm willing, Heather will always come back to me. And indeed, he has. You, the cheap fake, better know your place."

Steve was stunned. He hadn't expected such a dramatic confrontation, with the stand-in running into the real one.

Prisley's face stiffened, her chest heaving. The arrogant woman was right - she was indeed a substitute.

She felt powerless to refute her claims.

"That's enough, Filla!" Steve interrupted sternly.

"Has Heather said these things to you personally? If not, please refrain from making assumptions."

"I don't see much resemblance between Prisley and you."

"Huh, believe what you want. She knows it best." Filla replied arrogantly before striding away.

Prisley's eyes clouded as she fought back tears. She wanted nothing more than to leave right now.

"I'm sorry, Steve, I want to go now."

"I'll drive you home. I don't want to stay in this damn place either."

As Prisley walked out of the room, tears started streamed down her face. Sadness filled her beautiful eyes.

Her once confident and radiant posture now slumped, devoid of its former self-assurance and beauty.

"I'm sorry, Prisley, I didn't know she was coming." Steve murmured, sincerely apologizing to her.

"It's not your fault." Prisley said.

"Do I look like a clown?"

"No, no, no, you're beautiful and capable, and everyone at the party was nice to you," Steve reassured her.

Prisley shook her head, not accepting Steve's compliments.

"Forget about Filla... You're Prisley, not someone else," Steve comforted her.

"Thank you, Steve," Prisley said, trying to hold back her tears. Having Steve speak up for her was the greatest comfort she could ask for.

When Prisley arrived home, she kicked off her high heels and walked inside without turning on the light.

She had never imagined such an embarrassing situation. Her mood was at its lowest, compounded by the complaints she had to endure from Heather during the day.

All the unhappiness piled up and she let the tears flow freely in the darkness.

Suddenly, she was enveloped by a pair of strong arms.

Before she could utter a sound, her lips were captured by a passionate kiss, moist and warm, a familiar sensation. She realized immediately that it was him.

He tore down her carefully arranged bun, letting her long hair cascade down like a waterfall, cradling the back of her head as he kissed her fervently.

He parted her lips, their mouths meeting not with tender but with urgency. His breath washed over her face, the heavy sound of his breathing echoing in her ears, igniting her desire.

The earlier sadness had drained Prisley of her strength, and she stood in the darkness, allowing him to continue kissing her lips, cheeks, and neck. His hands explored the sensitive parts of her body, sending shivers down her spine.

"Are you crying?" he asked.