Bought by My Billionaire Ex

Chapter 3

The next morning, I went to work.

The company I worked for occupied half the basement of an old office building. The air smelled of overheated computer towers and instant noodles left out overnight.

I sat at my cramped desk, my right hand on the mouse, working as fast as I could.

The cut on my left index finger was covered with a cheap bandage I had bought at a pharmacy the night before. Every time I hit a keyboard shortcut, pain pulsed through it.

I had two thousand images to label before the end of the day.

If I didn't finish, I wouldn't get this week's performance bonus.

"Everyone, stop what you're doing! Clean up your desks!"

Our supervisor stormed into the office, sweating through his shirt and clapping his hands loudly.

"Mr. Vale is acquiring our company directly. The new boss is coming down to inspect the place himself. Sit up straight and don't embarrass me."

Chairs scraped against the floor.

A minute later, footsteps entered the cramped basement office.

A group of people in tailored suits walked in, painfully out of place against the yellowed walls and stained carpet.

At the front was a tall man in a black custom suit, broad-shouldered and impossibly composed.

Arthur.

I lowered my head and kept drawing boxes around faces on my screen.

Our supervisor trailed beside Arthur, bending almost at the waist as he spoke.

"Mr. Vale, this is our manual annotation team. The environment is a little rough, but they're efficient. Very efficient. We can absolutely meet the group's needs."

The footsteps drew closer.

Then they stopped behind my chair.

I didn't turn around.

My back had gone painfully stiff.

"This employee is one of our best labelers," the supervisor said quickly, clearly noticing Arthur's pause. "She can process two thousand images a day by herself, with an extremely low error rate."

Arthur's gaze moved over my shoulder to the glaring screen, watching as I boxed face after face in red.

Then his eyes dropped to my hands.

To my right hand on the mouse.

To my left finger, tapping shortcuts with its cheap bandage.

"I'll buy this company," Arthur said.

"Yes, yes, of course," the supervisor said at once.

"My executive office needs an assistant."

Arthur raised his hand and tapped twice on my desk.

"Transfer her there. This afternoon."

A few muffled gasps rippled through the office.

The supervisor froze.

"Mr. Vale, this... her qualifications may not be enough. She's just manual labor—"

"I'm informing you," Arthur said, lowering his hand. "Not asking for your opinion."

Then he turned and walked toward the exit.

The executives followed immediately.

I sat frozen in my chair.

Just like that, he had moved me to headquarters with a single sentence.

I couldn't even refuse.

The salary at headquarters would be enough to cover next month's bills.

At five that afternoon, I walked out of HR at ValeTech headquarters with a new badge in my hand.

Cold wind swept across the wide business plaza.

I stuffed the badge into my bag and hurried toward the street corner.

My old bicycle was parked there, a bright green express-delivery box strapped to the back.

I had just pushed the bike off the sidewalk when a Maybach rolled out of the underground garage and stopped directly in front of me, blocking my way.

The rear window lowered.

Arthur sat in the back seat.

He had taken off his suit jacket, and his tie was slightly loosened.

Through the window, he looked at my rusty bicycle.

Then at the delivery box.

"Does headquarters not pay you enough to survive?" His voice was cold. "You still need another job after work?"

I tightened my grip on the handlebars without looking at him.

"That's none of your concern, Mr. Vale."

I backed the bicycle up, intending to go around his car.

The car door opened with a hard thud.

Arthur got out, crossed the distance in a few long strides, and grabbed my handlebars.

His grip was so strong I couldn't move the bike at all.

"None of my concern?" He stared into my eyes. "Didn't you say last night you were getting married? Your fiancé lets you live like this? Working all day, working all night, and now riding this broken thing around to deliver packages?"

'God.'

'What was he so determined to prove?'

"I told you," I said, lifting my head to meet his gaze. "This is my life. I need money."

"You need money."

Arthur repeated the words through clenched teeth.

"You need money, so you'd rather work yourself to death with three jobs. You'd rather serve drinks to strangers. You'd rather ride through traffic on this piece of junk. But you still won't lower your head to me."

Something sour twisted in my chest.

Five years ago, I had bought his dignity with money.

Now what right did I have to lower my head to him?

"Mr. Vale." I glanced at my watch. "If I'm late for this delivery, the app docks my pay. Could you please move?"

Arthur stared at me for a long time.

Then he let go and stepped back.

"Fine," he said coldly. "Then you'd better not be late."

I swung onto the bike, pushed down hard on the pedals, and rushed into the packed evening traffic.