Unexpected Heiress: The Cinderella Reversal

Heartbroken2

Moira Jane didn't know how she made it upstairs. Instead of returning to her seat, she headed to the restroom.

Staring at herself in the mirror, Moira Jane suddenly felt like a stranger.

Her beauty was nothing short of intoxicating. Waves of raven hair tumbled effortlessly around a face graced with striking features, eyes that sparkled with an emerald intensity, lips plump and inviting, blushing a tantalizing shade of rose. Her figure, a symphony of curves and grace, moved with an elegance that was almost ethereal and a hint of seductive decadence.

In the words of her best friend, Aurora Miller, Moira Jane was a natural siren.

However, the current version of herself had dull eyes, the same original features but now appearing submissive and lacking any aggression, like a doll with its soul sucked away.

What was she like back when she was with her family? It felt so distant that she was almost forgetting!

When Moira Jane returned to her workstation, her colleagues all had excited expressions.

Seeing her back, Tracy looked disappointed, "Moira, where did you go just now? The suit just arrived!"

Her eyes were filled with excitement, "The suit is super handsome and young, nothing like the bald uncle in his forties!"

Moira Jane felt powerless, unable to muster the spirit to engage in conversation.

Tracy, oblivious to her state, continued, "The big cheese just visited our technical department! Oh, his voice is so nice, it's like my ears are getting pregnant..."

On the other hand, a male colleague began to pour cold water on the conversation, "Didn't you notice the ring on Mr. Jimenez's ring finger? He's already married."

"So what if he's married? Can't I just fantasize a bit?" Tracy retorted, pouting.

"You women are all hopeless romantics!" the male colleague blurted out, oblivious to his own gossiping demeanor, "And I know who his wife is!"

Moira Jane's heart skipped a beat.

Under the curious gaze of everyone, the male colleague continued, "It's his assistant, Wendy Scott!"

Tracy questioned, "How do you know?"

"Well, don't you guys know?" a male colleague chuckled, "My friend works at Jimenez Company and mentioned before that Mr. Jimenez and Wendy Scott are always together. Wherever Mr. Jimenez goes, he takes her along. If Mr. Jimenez had a wife, could she accept seeing her husband always with a young, attractive woman? She would have thrown a fit a long time ago!"

"How do you know Mr. Jimenez's wife hasn't thrown a fit? Maybe she doesn't mind, or maybe Ms. Scott has Mrs. Jimenez's approval?" Tracy continued to question, "And who says Ms. Scott isn't Mrs. Jimenez?"

"I know that too!!!" the male colleague adjusted his glasses, adopting a detective-like stance, "Because my friend also mentioned that Mr. Jimenez has never allowed any other woman to come to Jimenez's company to see him. The only woman around him is Wendy Scott. Think about it, if Mrs. Jimenez isn't Wendy Scott, would she have been married for two years without ever showing up at Jimenez's company?"

Everyone listened and nodded in agreement, but then asked: "How do you know Mr. Jimenez has been married for two years?"

"Well, my friend saw Mr. Jimenez wearing a wedding ring two years ago," the male colleague said.

"Pfft, your friend must be a tabloid reporter!" the group laughed.

Soon, Tracy sighed, "But seriously, Mr. Jimenez and Ms. Scott look like a perfect couple on the outside!"

"So, just give up on your unrealistic daydreams!" the male colleague advised earnestly.

Tracy exploded, "I'll fantasize as much as I want! What's it to you?"

The two bantered, while Moira Jane silently returned to her seat.

She raised her hand and looked down at her nails, glowing in that bright green.

Maybe, she should get them removed.

Upstairs, Elliot Jimenez promptly convened a high-level meeting.

The meeting continued until one o'clock in the afternoon. When they emerged, Wendy Scott had already arranged a meal for Elliot Jimenez, a sophisticated four-tiered food box adorned with the logo of Mastro's Restaurant.

Elliot Jimenez accepted it with a casual tone, "Thanks."

"Mr. Jimenez, you've just returned to the country and had such a long meeting. How about taking a break and having some lunch?" Wendy Scott's voice was soft.

"No need." Elliot Jimenez pinched his brow and headed straight to the office.

Wendy Scott wanted to say more, but there was no reason to follow. She felt a bit disappointed.

Meanwhile, Dylan Jackson held a courier envelope and approached Elliot Jimenez, saying, "Mr. Jimenez, the courier just arrived, as you instructed."

Elliot Jimenez took it, and when he saw the signature on the envelope, he subtly paused.

On the side, Wendy Scott observed his subtle reaction, pondering quietly, and her gaze shifted towards the courier.

However, Elliot Jimenez had already entered the office, and she couldn't see the sender.

Once inside, Elliot Jimenez placed the food box down and closed the office door right away.

He didn't eat but carefully tore open the courier instead.

A note was attached to the envelope, saying, "Mr. J, I've been quite busy with work lately. Just finished a project, and now I have some time to continue drawing. How about you? Can you speak now?"

Elliot Jimenez read these simple sentences several times.

Then, he opened the inner envelope, and two sheets of drawing paper floated out.

Elliot Jimenez picked up the papers, examined them for a while, and then retrieved a sizable box from the bottom drawer.

The box was made of iron, bearing the inscription: 72 Colored Pencils.

The Mastro's Restaurant food box on the coffee table lay there silently, seemingly forgotten by its owner.

In front of the desk, the man who was just reserved and serious in the meeting room was now carefully coloring the two drawings, his expression focused and gentle.

As the brush moved across the paper, the cartoon sketches gradually came to life.

Elliot Jimenez sat upright, shirt cuffs casually rolled up. The office was decorated in black, white, and gray style, with a large bookshelf behind him filled with various professional books. Only the cartoon drawings on the desk seemed out of place.

Half an hour later, the coloring was complete, and the images were vibrant and full.

Elliot Jimenez examined them for a moment, carefully cut the drawings, and placed half of them into the envelope.

Taking out a stack of blue notepapers from the drawer, he wrote: "I've been busy lately, learning office software, preparing for some secretarial work in the future. I still can't speak now."

Originally intended to sign off, he added another line: "You draw beautifully. Will the rabbit return to its original forest?"

The handwriting, due to deliberate alternative fonts, appeared awkward and stiff, as if written by an elementary school student.

Elliot Jimenez signed the letter.

While writing 'Mr. J,' the gentleness on his face suddenly vanished, and his slender fingers, due to exertion, lost their color.

She didn't know his secret, and no one would ever know in this lifetime.

Thinking of the past, the scars on his back seemed to start raging again. Elliot Jimenez made a conscious effort to push that howling darkness back into the depths of memory and quickly signed: Regards, Mr. J.

At this moment, the internal phone rang.

Dylan Jackson said, "Mr. Jimenez, just got a call from X Corporation. They want to invite you to play golf together..."

Elliot Jimenez snapped back to reality, placed the letter and drawings into the courier envelope at the bottom of the drawer, sealed it, and then said, "Come in and tell me."

Dylan Jackson walked in, expecting Elliot Jimenez to discuss matters concerning the X Corporation. To his surprise, Elliot handed him an envelope, instructing, "Mail it to the usual place. Send it out today".

"Okay." Dylan had been working with Elliot for years, and although he was curious about the contents of the envelope, he never pried.

Only after handing over the envelope did Elliot add, "Schedule it for the day after tomorrow, in the afternoon."

"Sure." Dylan nodded, heading towards the coffee table to clean up the lunch box.

With that, he realized something and asked, "Mr. Jimenez, you haven't had lunch yet?"

Elliot, expressionless, simply rose to his feet, "I'll eat now."

As Dylan held the envelope, he understood its weightiness. Knowing that his boss had prioritized mailing this envelope over eating his meal, he realized it must be of utmost importance. There was no room for errors.

Inside the office, Elliot sat alone, quietly eating his lunch, a faraway look on his face.

The rabbit returns to the forest, what does she mean...

He wasn't adept at understanding art, yet he could clearly sense her unhappiness.

In the afternoon, the leader of the technical department called for a general meeting, addressing everyone, "In a week, we'll be participating in the bid from Sailit Group. Originally, our company didn't have the strength for this bid, but now, with Mr. Jimenez acquiring the company, our financial situation has improved. So, I need everyone to work hard and complete the technical section of the proposal. Due to the tight schedule, the CEO needs to have the proposal by tomorrow, so we'll need everyone to work overtime tonight."

Moira Jane, upon hearing the words 'Sailit Group,' subtly pinched the bridge of her nose.

If someone were to investigate, they could discover that Moira Jane was the fourth-largest shareholder in Sailit Group.

Amidst the sighs of her colleagues, Moira Jane returned to her seat, picked up her phone, and quickly entered Elliot Jimenez's number.

After a moment of hesitation, she stood up, walked to the corridor outside, and made the call.

This was the first time she had called him during working hours, and she didn't know why. Perhaps it was because of what she witnessed in the lobby today, or maybe it was the gentle expression on his face when he spoke to Wendy Scott with his head bowed.

On the fifth ring, someone answered.

Moira Jane took a deep breath, about to speak, but instead of the familiar deep male voice, she heard a strange female voice, soft yet confident, "Hello, Mr. Jimenez is in a meeting. May I ask who's calling? There's no name saved in Mr. Jimenez's phone for you..."

Moira Jane tightened her grip on the phone's fingers and heard herself say, "Wrong number."

After saying that, she hung up the phone directly.

Two years as a couple, and he hadn't even saved her number?

She suddenly found it challenging to control her emotions at this moment. Tilting her head up, she struggled to hold back the tears that were about to well up.

The path she chose two years ago as a wife, she reminded herself that she could say no but not regret.

That night, Moira Jane and her colleagues stayed back at the company for overtime.

At eleven o'clock in the evening, Elliot Jimenez returned to the villa.

Outside the villa, a small night light illuminated, and he gazed inside, his eyes as intense as ink.

Walking in, he pushed open the bedroom door, taking careful, light steps.

However, there was no sound in the bedroom.

His hearing was always keen, so even Moira Jane's quiet breath would be audible to him. But at this moment, everything was silent, indicating that she hadn't returned.

He picked up his phone, and quickly entered a string of numbers, about to dial when he noticed there was an incoming call on this number today.

Elliot Jimenez glanced at the call time and duration, furrowing his brow.