Unexpected Heiress: The Cinderella Reversal

The night was as dark and dense as ink, the faint dip beside the bed brought a slight chill, and in her dreams, Moira Jane felt the cold seeping in. Overworked from several days of overtime, her body was exhausted. Even when she perceived the man's movements, her heavy eyelids refused to open. In a trance, soft, slender fingertips touched the scar on the man's back, instinctively tracing its shape as she had done many times before. By the time it was over, her consciousness had fallen completely silent in the past. The next day, Moira Jane was awakened by her alarm clock. She stretched her arm out, frantically turning off the intrusive noise. Driven by habit, she rushed to get dressed, washed her face, brushed her teeth, and grabbed her bag for work... Only when the alarm rang again did Moira Jane realize that all her actions had been carried out in her mind, that she was still, in fact, lying in bed. The time she had left before work was now reduced by ten minutes. Rushing to get ready, Moira Jane noticed a used condom in the rubbish bin. So last night wasn’t a dream... After getting dressed and freshening up, she found the living room was quiet and cool, its muted grey tones reflecting the austere restraint of the villa's owner. Reflecting back, Moira Jane realized it had been half a month since she last saw Elliot Jimenez. Their encounters over the past month felt ironic as if each of his returns were merely to maintain a physical connection, a reminder that their marital relationship still existed, however fleetingly. It was all completion and no emotion. Moira Jane dressed in professional attire and high heels, grabbed her car keys, and headed out for work. On the way, she encountered traffic, driving the only car at home that cost less than three hundred thousand. She waited for the red light. Taking advantage of the time, she applied lip gloss and glanced down at the manicure she had done last weekend – green, like a traffic light. Luckily, her fair skin made it work. The challenging color on her hands complemented them, making them appear as if translucent and radiant. At that moment, her phone rang. It was a message from Elliot Jimenez, with just one sentence: "Moira, I had to leave on a sudden business trip this morning, and I'm not sure when I'll be back." Moira Jane read the message twice, raised an eyebrow, and replied with a single word: "Okay." Upon arriving at the office just in time to clock in, Moira Jane went to her workstation, pulled out her chair, and sat down, massaging her slightly sore back. She was a micro-siting engineer for a company that specialized in wind power. Her role involved selecting the most stable wind locations within a designated area to install wind turbines. The process was intricate, as even a few meters could make a significant difference in wind strength and direction, potentially impacting the power generation capacity of the turbines. After working tirelessly day and night a few days ago to submit a report, Moira Jane found herself with some free time today. She glanced at her bag, a reasonably priced one, costing $299, with well-crafted hardware. Moira Jane's seat faced the boss's office and had her back to another colleague. So, if the boss came out, she would be the first to know, but if the boss walked through the corridor, they might not see what she was up to. It was a prime spot, and Moira Jane liked it a lot. She pulled a sketchbook and pencil from her drawer and began to draw. Her drawings were cartoons with a storyline. Today, she was drawing a rabbit gazing at the modern city she had always longed for, suddenly feeling a bit lost. The city had been its earnest desire, but upon arriving, it discovered that behind the apparent hustle and bustle, the most challenging part was the long and desolate nights. It began reminiscing about the forest where it was born, a place with family and companions, rather than just waiting in emptiness for someone with an uncertain return. Moira Jane was engrossed in her drawing when she overheard a colleague discussing, "I heard our company might be acquired." "Really? Although green energy hasn't been as prosperous in recent years, it's not like we're having cash flow issues, right?" "The word is, a previous project strained our financial resources. And as you know, we're not the only division at headquarters. They're thinking about focusing on other more lucrative projects". "Are you sure about this news?" "I just happened to glance at a document in the office, and it had something like 'acquisition plan.'" "Well, no matter who becomes the boss, as long as our benefits remain unchanged, it's all good." Moira Jane listened to the discussions, her hand holding the pen pausing. Looking at the rabbit, she thought, maybe it's time for her to return to her own forest. In the afternoon, news of the acquisition spread throughout the company, and people were somewhat disheartened at work. Moira Jane continued drawing until she completed two pages of sketches, which she then placed in an envelope. Then, she took out a sticky note and wrote on it: "Mr. J, I've been busy with work lately, just finished a project and now have time to continue drawing. How about you? Can you speak now? " At the bottom, she signed: Best regards, Moi. She placed the note in the envelope, covered it with another express envelope, sealed it with adhesive tape, and began filling out the courier form. Twelve years ago, at the age of 12, she and her older brother participated in a volunteer activity to help a teenager with communication difficulties. During that time, she made a pen pal. The volunteer organization mentioned that the kids in that group were around 6 to 10 years old, so considering the age, the other person should be about five years younger than her, maybe just coming of age now. They communicated by letter each time, and one day, she mentioned that she loved drawing as a child. He then asked if she could draw some pictures for him. She gladly agreed, and since then, this habit has persisted for twelve years. Every time she finished a drawing, she would mail it to an address. After receiving the drawing, her pen pal would start coloring it. Once he finished coloring, he would cut the drawing in half and send it back to Moira Jane. They had an agreement: once her pen pal could speak, they would find an opportunity to meet and piece together the halves of the drawings. Over these many years, it had become quite a thick stack, and Moira Jane thought, perhaps it was time to compile them into a book. The following week, the buzz about the company's acquisition intensified. Until this Monday, just as Moira Jane had settled down, she overheard her colleague Tracy saying, "The acquisition is confirmed. Today, I heard from our company's driver that he's going to pick up the big cheese later!" "But isn't the big cheese local?" Moira Jane wondered. "No, I heard the big cheese is a local, but has a kind of conglomerate company. The driver is going to the airport to pick him up because the big cheese just returned from a business trip abroad," Tracy exclaimed. "I wonder what he's like, handsome or not?" "Probably in his forties, not much hair on his head, but a bunch of chest hair," Moira Jane said casually. Tracy laughed and looked at Moira Jane's face, saying, "Moira, if you weren't already married, just based on your beauty..." Moira Jane blinked, her voice naturally charming, "What about it? Snag the bald guy and become the boss lady?" Tracy laughed, and sighed after a moment, "But you too! It's been two years since you got married, and I've never seen you show off your husband. Is he too handsome, and you don't want to share with us?" "He..." Moira Jane thought of Elliot Jimenez's infuriatingly handsome face and shrugged, "Not really something to show off." Around eleven in the morning, Moira Jane received a call, informing her that there was a package for her to personally collect in the lobby downstairs. She hurriedly went downstairs, signed at the front desk, and while walking and opening the mail, she saw several leaders coming out of the elevator. Monica, the executive secretary with whom Moira Jane had a good relationship, approached her and said quietly, "Don't leave just yet." Before Moira Jane could ask, she noticed the leaders all heading downstairs, briskly walking towards the building's entrance. Shortly after, a black Bentley Mulsanne pulled up outside, and the assistant opened the door. Four people stepped out of the car. The man leading the group was dressed in impeccably pressed black clothes, enveloping his tall and sturdy figure. His trousers, moving with each step, subtly formed wrinkles, and his long, straight legs seemed to exude a walking hormone. His fair skin, well-defined features, and the absence of any unnecessary expressions on his face created a striking contrast to his overly handsome appearance. His cold and restrained demeanor seemed even more captivating. As he walked, it felt like the air behind him was being pulled into a vacuum, creating an indescribable sense of oppression. Behind him, two men and one woman, each carrying a briefcase, were professionally dressed and walked with composure. The moment Moira Jane laid eyes on the man, her heart felt like it took a heavy blow, and a buzzing sound echoed in her ears. It was Elliot Jimenez!!! Her husband, whom she hadn't seen in a long time. He had acquired her company, becoming the major shareholder, and she, as his bedmate, only found out now! As if a slap had landed on her face, though she stood with other colleagues to welcome him, Moira Jane felt like a lonely soul isolated in this world. She watched him calmly accept everyone's respectful gazes, feeling a profound chill. Elliot Jimenez shook hands with the company executives, and as he walked past Moira Jane, his gaze didn't pause for a moment. He strode directly towards the elevator. In that fleeting moment of proximity, Moira Jane caught a faint whiff of the subtle scent of cold pine on him. The elevator doors opened, and Elliot Jimenez's group entered. When he turned around, Moira Jane saw the female secretary by his side smiling and saying something to him. The female secretary was young, in her early twenties, tall with delicate features. Moira Jane found her face somewhat familiar. At the moment the elevator doors closed, she saw Elliot Jimenez turn his head and whisper something to the secretary. She couldn't make out their expressions, but that brief distance had already shattered all her defenses. Beside her, Monica reminded her, "Moira, we should go upstairs." Moira Jane realized her nails had involuntarily dug into her palm. She nodded, a slight smile on her lips, but her voice had a hint of hoarseness, "Sure."