Denied Love

04.Willing To Be Deceived

Because she had received the assignment directly from her boss, the team had temporarily put off assigning tasks to Khemjira. That afternoon, the young woman gathered all the necessary equipment, escaping the chill of the office, and went out to sit in the outdoor lounge area.

She spent over two hours working until the project began to take shape. Then she heard the sound of high heels approaching. Deep in concentration as she worked hard to meet the deadline by tomorrow afternoon, she paused her work and turned toward the noise, thinking it was her fiancée.

"What are you doing, Khun Khem?"

But when she looked up, the owner of the clicking heels was not the person she had expected. Both individuals were holding coffee-each with a cup, as if they had just stepped out of the beverage station.

One was a senior colleague from her team, and the wearer of the high heels was P'J, the team leader whom she remembered seemed rather unimpressed with her.

Still, as the youngest on the team, she had no choice but to stand up when the team leader was present. Even though it was clear they were giving her a hard time, she had to remain deferential as the new employee.

"Oh, Boss Rin ordered Khem to design the guest table set," she said. "Looks like it's rushed. When is it due?"

"Tomorrow at 1 PM."

At this, a sly smirk crept across Ji's lips, her mind brimming with devious plans.

"Then let's go. Don't give poor Khem any more trouble."

Seeing that the new employee's work was progressing too beautifully- exactly the way she didn't want it- the young woman pretended to invite her female colleague to go elsewhere.

But she had another intention: she deliberately bumped her elbow against her colleague's arm, causing the coffee in her cup to spill all over Khemjira's work.

"Oops! I'm sorry, I didn't mean it!"

And it happened just as planned. The coffee from the cup splashed forcefully onto the paper on which Khemjira was sketching. Although it wasn't a huge amount, once it stained the work, there was no way to

continue using it.

"Oh my... you spilling coffee on a junior's work like that will surely mean it has to be redone. You're so clumsy-truly."

"Damn it, I really didn't mean it!"

"Like a corpse wrapped in a shroud-what a piece of trash you are."

The culprits put on an act of shock and began blaming each other. However, Khemjira, the owner of the work, showed no signs of panic. She had, after all, somewhat prepared herself for such occurrences. All she could do was stand there and watch her work become ruined, silently cursing them in her heart.

"I apologize on behalf of my friend, Khem. But you've only done a little so far, right? Starting over shouldn't be a big deal... Oh! It's almost time for the team meeting. I have to go. Sorry again!"

Ji spoke as if she had already forgiven herself and then walked away shamelessly.

"Huh..."

Khemjira looked at her ruined work and let out a deep sigh of despair. She crouched down, carefully blotting the spilled coffee with tissue paper. But no matter how much she wiped, the white paper was still stained with brown. There was no avoiding it-she would have to redo everything.

Still, there was a silver lining to this misfortune: she hadn't gotten very far yet. Most of her time had been spent just trying to understand the brief.

But wait...

She stared at her coffee-stained sketch and suddenly had an idea. Picking up her work, she made her way to the large working space on the upper floor.

This area was designed as a quiet café-style lounge for employees, covering the entire floor. At this hour, it was nearly empty.

Khemjira opened a storage cabinet, took out watercolor paints and brushes, and examined her ruined sketch again. Instead of seeing a mess, she saw art. Those two senior colleagues thought they could force her to start over and get scolded by Boss Rin. No way.

This time, she would let them "prank" her. She had been aware but careless, and as a new employee, she had only been here a few days. But if they ever crossed the line and caused her real trouble, she promised she wouldn't just curse them silently.

.

Nearly 24 hours had passed since she received this special assignment.

Khemjira submitted two clean drafts to her senior teammates for review and

made quick revisions.

As for the coffee-stained version, she didn't show it to anyone. It was just a minor piece in the game. With three designs to choose from, surely at least one would satisfy Khun Rin.

When it was time to submit her work, Khemjira took the glass elevator in

the grand hall up to the CEO's office. She reported to Khun Mathurot before stepping inside.

It was the first time that day she got to see the beautiful face of her fiancée. That morning, she had left extra early to fix her work in time for submission to the company's beloved, stunning boss.

"So, how is it? Is my work acceptable?"

She handed over the completed sketches, which she had spent the entire night perfecting without sleep. The usually cold and distant woman took the papers and examined them. Then she caught a strange scent lingering on

one of them-her favorite drink.

Praenarin narrowed her eyes at the woman before her. At first, she was surprised that the work she had assigned was completed so neatly. But with that model-like woman standing in front of her, she had to keep her

composure and act indifferent.

"The smell of coffee... Why does it smell like coffee?"

"The brief mentioned that you wanted furniture that felt warm and cozy,

like being in a café, because the client loves drinking Americanos. So I tried using coffee for the coloring,"

Khemjira explained.

It was obvious that coffee had been spilled on it. Praenarin secretly smirked at how quick the other woman was at handling the situation. But she quickly put on her usual cold expression and masked her amusement by continuing to critique the work.

"The idea is good, but it's still not warm enough. I want something that feels more calming. None of these three designs are acceptable."

She handed the paper back, marking a large X through the design with her marker. Khemjira accepted it without complaint, as if being assigned extra work was simply a way to keep her too busy to bother Praenarin.

"I followed the brief, but you're still not satisfied. That means you already have a design in mind, right? Something in your head that you can't quite describe unless you see something similar."

She was right, but Praenarin didn't respond.

"How about I pull up some models that the company already has? Maybe one of them is close to what you have in mind, which would make things easier. I can bring my computer here to show you, and if any of them are close, I can adjust them in the program to create a 360-degree view."

"No. You need to redo everything-hand-drawn sketches, three new designs, just like before."

"What?"

Khemjira's face fell. She had already poured all her time and focus into the work, finishing it with as little last-minute rushing as possible. And now, Praenarin wanted her to start over completely? Was she intentionally making a simple task harder?

The company had ready-made models, yet she had to sit there, blindly guessing at Praenarin's vision and sketching everything from scratch with multiple angles?

"If you can't imagine it, I'll send you some reference images."

.

.

Praenarin didn't just say it-she immediately sent table design samples to Khemjira's email.

The email notification popped up, and as soon as Khemjira opened the images, she sighed at Praenarin's unreasonable demands. But she had no choice-she was just an ordinary employee, and the one giving orders was the CEO, who seemed even more demanding than P'J and Balloon had warned her about.

"So, when is the deadline for these revisions?" she asked.

She had assumed that someone as beautiful as Praenarin might be kind enough to extend the deadline. Or at the very least, she expected to be given until 1 PM tomorrow, just like before. But it seemed she had been too optimistic...

"Tomorrow at 9 AM."

"What? Why not 1 PM?"

She couldn't hide the shock on her face, and the other woman couldn't hide the smug satisfaction of teasing her either.

"I'm excited. I want to review the work at 9 AM. Do you have a problem with that?"

That slight smirk on Praenarin's lips made Khemjira want to grab her and smother her in hugs and kisses. But fine, if she was going to steal

something, she might as well aim for the big prize. Once they were married, she would tame this stubborn woman completely.

"No problem. I'll start right away,"

She replied before dragging her exhausted body out of the office, dark circles and all.

She knew she was being tricked, but she willingly let herself be fooled. She wanted to see if working this hard would make Praenarin soften toward her. But she would only push herself as far as her body could handle.

After all, it looked like she would be pulling another all-nighter. And if Praenarin dared to mess with her again tomorrow, she wouldn't just take it quietly.

Khemjira worked tirelessly from the moment she received the assignment yesterday until 5 AM today. She finally stood up from her desk and looked at her nearly finished sketches, letting out a small, relieved smile.

It felt like she had hacked her own body just to complete this task. But her body was starting to fight back.

"Not again..."

Within seconds of standing up, she rushed to the bathroom, clinging to the toilet as she vomited-despite not having eaten dinner. Her head felt foggy, her stomach twisted painfully, and she knew exactly what was happening.

This always happened when she didn't get enough sleep. Dizziness, nausea, itchy red rashes spreading over her skin like they had planned a surprise attack.

Last night, she had slept less than two hours, determined to prove that she wasn't some spoiled rich girl who couldn't handle work and only clung to a wealthy wife.

The sound of rushing footsteps echoed through her head. Khemjira pressed her fingers against her temples, feeling like her skull was about to explode. Then, a familiar voice snapped her back to reality.

"Khem, are you sick?"

P'Rin stood there in a neatly pressed outfit, her face filled with concern as she reached out to support her. Khemjira quickly raised a hand to stop her, pretending she was fine. She didn't want the older woman to worry.

"I'm okay. Just a little nauseous. Why are you here at this time, P'Rin?" "I saw the light on, so I thought you were awake. But I knocked several

times, and you didn't answer, so I came in. You didn't sleep at all last night,

did you?" "Uh..."

Khemjira stood up quickly, feeling awkward at being caught. Back in school, she used to pull all-nighters without a problem, but over time, her body just couldn't handle it anymore. And ever since that accident, she'd noticed she was much weaker, especially when she didn't get enough rest.

"You know you can't handle sleepless nights. Why do you keep doing this to yourself?"

Khwanrin glanced at the scattered papers on the desk and the still-lit lamp, instantly understanding the situation.

"I promise I'll sleep early tonight. Let me go shower and get ready first-I have to get to the office early."

The younger woman turned to leave, but Khwanrin grabbed her wrist, speaking in a voice filled with concern.

"Stay home today. Didn't you say the company allows you to work from home one day a week?"

"It's fine, P'Rin. I have to deliver my work to Khun Rin by 9 AM. I have no choice but to go."

"But you're not feeling well-"

"P'Rin, I'm old enough to be getting married in a few days."

Khwanrin froze. That forced bright smile, combined with those words spoken so casually, carried an unspoken message. And anyone who wasn't completely oblivious would understand what Khemjira was implying.

She was getting married... Right. In just a few days, her little heiress would be walking down the aisle.

Khwanrin shouldn't love her-because Khemjira already had someone she was supposed to love.

"Alright then, go ahead. If you're in such a hurry, I'll make you a sandwich to eat on the way."

Khemjira took a quick shower, threw on her clothes, and grabbed her favorite backpack before heading downstairs to pick up the sandwich

Khwanrin had prepared. She could have eaten the breakfast provided at work, but that would take time she could use to finish her project instead.

"Khem, come have breakfast before you go."

As soon as she entered the dining room, she saw Uncle Wasin sitting with his morning coffee. He was always an early riser-before 6 AM and already dressed for the day.

"Uh... I need to get to the office early. I'll just take the sandwich," she said, quickly stuffing it into her bag.

"Why the rush? Work starts at 8 AM, doesn't it? The office isn't that far. Or are you worried about traffic?"

That was exactly it. Khemjira preferred to get to the office early and work there rather than deal with rush hour.

"I just want to keep working. Sorry, Uncle."

"Make sure you get enough rest. Your wedding day is coming up-you don't want to look worn out."

Khemjira's eyes widened as she instinctively placed her hands on her cheeks. Worn out? If her uncle pointed it out, that meant she must have really looked tired over the past two days.

She forced a sheepish smile before turning away to get into the car she had arranged the night before. But now, she couldn't stop worrying about her face. This wouldn't do. After today, she needed to take better care of her

skin-she had to look her best for her wedding day, to be worthy of Praenarin.

.

.

Inside the CEO's office at exactly 9 AM, the air was crisp and silent despite the presence of two people. Khemjira stood quietly, watching Praenarin

review her work with a satisfied smirk.

She was sure she had done everything right this time. She had followed instructions to the letter, revising every detail exactly as requested. There was no way she would fail this time.

But things didn't go as she expected.

"I don't think it looks good enough. Redo it."

The design she had worked so hard on was crossed out and shoved back toward her. Praenarin had barely glanced at it before dismissing it entirely, sitting back with her legs crossed, looking completely at ease. Khemjira, on the other hand, felt her face fall.

Everything she had struggled through-it was all for nothing. The moment she heard the feedback, the sounds around her felt distant, her head

spinning from the pressure. What was the point of pushing herself so hard if nothing she did mattered?

"But... Khun Rin, you were the one who told me to use this design. How can you say it's not good after I spent all night fixing it? I worked on this until my hands cramped and my eyes nearly popped out of my head!"

Tears threatened to spill. She loved Praenarin, yes, but that didn't mean she couldn't feel hurt and frustrated when treated unfairly. It was obvious that Praenarin was deliberately making things difficult for her-creating

impossible conditions to push her into giving up on the wedding.

"If I say it's not good, then it's not good. Fix it and have it ready before evening."

Completely unreasonable.

The woman in charge simply crossed her arms and spun her chair around, turning her back on Khemjira. But this time, Khemjira refused to let it slide.

Gone was her usual cheerful demeanor. She strode forward, grabbed the chair, and spun it back around so that Praenarin was facing her again.

Leaning in, she placed both hands on the chair's armrests and furrowed her brows in determination.

"Khun Rin... you're thirty-five years old." "You-! Are you mocking my age?"

When the other person raised her voice, Khemjira moved a little closer, until their faces were nearly touching, their breath warm against each other's cheeks. The one sitting, now frozen in place, could only stare back, unable to move. Their faces were barely an inch apart, and if Praenarin tried to resist, they might end up kissing unintentionally.

"No, I'm not. I was just going to say, you're this age now. I know you're mature, but you're just deliberately bullying me. So, I'm not going to do it. I consider my work finished. If you want the work, you can use the six designs I've done. But if you're still not satisfied, you can design it yourself. I'm going home to sleep and won't be working anymore today."

This time, it was Praenarin who wouldn't give up. The young woman pushed the other's chest and tried to move out of the restricted space, only to be held back by the strong arms of the other, not letting her go.

"Let go!"

The smaller figure struggled in the embrace, so Khemjira tightened her hold and leaned in to whisper in her ear. Praenarin probably didn't realize that

she could afford much more than what she appeared to be.

"Why are you bullying me, Khun Rin?"

"Because you like to challenge me every morning. See, when you're not around, I'm comfortable and don't have to be stubborn."

That was the terrible reason. Praenarin answered and arrogantly tossed her head, not even considering that someone as high up as a CEO would have such a mindset.

"Is that all?"

"Because you always follow me around!" she snapped. "Is that all?"

"No. I'll keep bullying you until you can't stand it anymore and cancel the wedding. Because if you don't agree to marry me, no matter how much my father forces me to marry you for the inheritance, it's all pointless."

"Then why don't you cancel it yourself? Why does it have to be me?"

"You know I can't cancel it. If I cancel, my father won't give me the CEO position. And all the family wealth will be gone. It's you who needs to cancel it."

"No. I won't do what Khun Rin says. I'm going to marry you. In just a few days, I'll be your wife. Excuse me, I'm going back home."

Khemjira said firmly as she pulled away from the other person and turned her back.

"You can't. It's work time,"

The boss said, slightly irritated that she couldn't control the situation. She grabbed Khemjira's arm, but what she saw was Khemjira slowly turning around to face her, with blood starting to drip from her nose. The sight

made her eyes widen in shock.

"Can you stop bullying me now? I'm going to sleep,"

Khemjira said, feeling her vision blur. The face of the person she loved began to fade, as if it were a dream, before her body grew weak, and she nearly collapsed to the floor, if not for someone catching her.

"Khem!"

Praenarin rushed to support her, shocked, and held her oval face. "Your nose is bleeding!"

Not only was blood flowing from her nose, but her body felt hot and feverish too.

Khemjira lifted her hand to wipe the blood from her nose and tried to avoid the other person, not wanting to be bullied any further. She felt dizzy, nauseous, and knew she couldn't last until evening. If she did, she might

collapse right there at work. She didn't want P'Jay and P'Balloon to have to take care of her while they were also working.

"Wait a second, what's going on? Why are you like this?"

Praenarin noticed red rashes on Khemjira's chest and neck, contrasting with her pale skin, and immediately pushed her shirt aside to check. But

Khemjira looked at her like a child, feeling resentful, and tried to pull away. "Let go. I'm going home."

"I'll take you,"

Praenarin said, allowing her to stand on her own but quickly grabbing her belongings and putting them in her own bag. She supported Khemjira's body again because if Khemjira stayed like this and she didn't do anything, it could get worse. If something happened to her, Khemjira's father would come after Praenarin for sure.

"I can walk by myself. No need to help me."

"Don't be stubborn. What if you fall in the elevator and die? If that happens, my father will take all my inheritance. What should I do?"

When Khemjira finally stopped being stubborn and allowed Praenarin to support her, they headed out of the office toward the elevator to go to the parking lot. Praenarin didn't forget to tell her personal secretary to pack up Khemjira's things and bring them along.

While they were in the elevator together, Khemjira felt a bit better, but Praenarin still held onto her arm as if afraid she might collapse. The frustration she had felt earlier quickly dissipated, replaced by a sense of warmth and appreciation. It seemed like Praenarin still cared for her, at least enough not to let her be hurt.

"Did you really think of me as just a money-making tool?" Khemjira asked. "Well...yes,"

Praenarin replied coldly, yet there was a strange calmness in her voice.

Khemjira began to understand how P'Balloon must have felt when he was alone with the boss in an elevator.

She subtly shifted closer to Praenarin noticing that she smelled really nice. It was a fresh scent, not overpowering, but pleasant enough to make

Khemjira want to breathe it in longer.

"Khun Rin, you smell so good. What perfume are you wearing?" Khemjira asked.

"Why do you want to know?" Khun Rin responded.

"I already told you. It smells nice. Or maybe your hearing is starting to

fade? But I think you still have a long way to go before that happens. Is this your premature aging catching up to you?" Khemjira teased.

Praenarin looked at her, even when she was sick, she still had the energy to annoy Khemjira.

"I'll forgive you since you're sick, but don't ask any more questions. It's

better if you just stay quiet. If you keep talking, I'll take you to the quietest

forest and leave you there so you can't bother me anymore." "A forest?" Khemjira asked.

"A cemetery."

"You're so cruel!"

Khemjira looked at her sideways, but Praenarin just stared back. Khemjira turned her face forward, swallowing her words and deciding not to ask any more questions. If she did, she might not make it back home today.

.