Episode Fourteen
1363 Words
Chapter 14
The Necklace
I did not withdraw my resignation.
From the moment HR received the forms, I began focusing on handover work.
After all, I had been at Yale Group for many years. My duties were not the kind that could be wrapped up overnight and tied neatly with a ribbon.
There were calendars to transfer.
Client preferences to explain.
Passwords to update.
Files to organise.
Old agreements to label clearly enough that no one would call me two months later asking where some forgotten clause had gone to die.
Fortunately, most of it could be handled online.
Which meant I no longer had to see Charles.
And I no longer had to make my life revolve around him.
For the first time in years, there were spaces in my day that did not belong to his meetings, his moods, his coffee, his projects, his emergencies.
It felt strange.
Almost frightening.
So I began planning a trip.
A long time ago, Charles had promised to take me on a long holiday.
Just the two of us.
No work calls.
No last-minute board emergencies.
No client dinners pretending to be social occasions.
At the time, I had not asked where we would go. The place had never mattered. I had only imagined a room with sunlight, a sea outside the window, and Charles without a phone in his hand.
But in the end, it seemed I would be the only one going.
I had barely started drafting an itinerary when Shane called.
His voice sounded hesitant.
“Um… Mia, where are you right now?”
I looked at the half-finished list of flights on my laptop.
“At home.”
There was a small silence.
Then Shane made a sound of realisation.
“Right. Right, of course.”
“What happened?”
He seemed about to say something else when a burst of noise suddenly came from his end of the line.
A second later, the phone changed hands.
The next voice belonged to Charles.
“Did you forget about tonight’s reception banquet?”
The familiar coldness in his tone was threaded with restrained anger.
I closed my eyes briefly.
“Mr Charles,” I said, rubbing my temples. “I’ve already submitted my resignation.”
“This reception is important,” he cut in.
Then he added, “Dakota still isn’t familiar with the process.”
His voice carried a faint challenge.
“Is this how you plan to fulfil your promise to train your replacement and complete a proper handover?”
I looked at the itinerary on my screen.
The cursor blinked after the word departure.
For a moment, I imagined closing the laptop, turning off my phone, and letting Charles discover what happened when a person he considered useful simply stopped being reachable.
Then he spoke again.
“One more thing.”
I said nothing.
“Contract.”
Only one word.
But it made the refusal I had prepared stick in my throat.
I could not swallow it.
And I could not spit it out either.
In the end, I went to the reception.
The banquet hall was bright with crystal light and polished marble. Waiters moved between guests with trays of champagne, and the air carried the faint, expensive smell of perfume, flowers, and business disguised as celebration.
I arrived ten minutes before the opening toast.
Old habit.
Charles was already there.
Dakota stood close beside him in a pale dress, her hair softly pinned back. When she saw me, she looked relieved and guilty at the same time.
“Miss Bennet,” she said quietly, “I’m sorry to trouble you again.”
“Trouble?”
Before I could answer, Charles cut in coldly.
“This was her job to begin with.”
Dakota’s lips parted.
I only smiled.
Perhaps now that we had torn away all pretence, Charles no longer bothered hiding his hostility. His tone was noticeably harsher than before, each word clipped enough to draw blood if I let it.
I did not.
“As you wish, Mr Charles.”
As usual, I followed quietly at their side.
I explained the guest list to Dakota in a low voice as we moved through the hall.
“Director Lin from East Harbour Investment. His wife sits on the hospital foundation board, so do not mention the donation dispute unless he does first.”
Dakota nodded quickly.
“The man in the navy suit?”
“Mr Adler. He pretends to forget names when he dislikes someone. If he calls you Miss Lane twice, he is testing whether you will correct him.”
Dakota glanced at me with wide eyes.
“That actually happens?”
“All the time.”
She swallowed and wrote it down in the small notebook she had started carrying everywhere.
I kept speaking.
Names.
Positions.
Rivalries.
Alliances.
Preferred topics.
Forbidden ones.
The invisible map beneath the polished floor.
Halfway through my explanation, my gaze passed over Dakota’s neck.
Then I stopped.
Only for a second.
But it was enough.
A delicate necklace rested against her collarbone. A fine silver chain, almost weightless, holding a small blue stone that caught the light whenever she moved.
I had seen that necklace before.
Charles had ordered it from overseas.
Shane had been the one to pick it up.
Shane, who could not keep a secret if someone stitched his mouth shut with gold thread, had come to my desk that afternoon with his eyes practically shining.
“Mia,” he had whispered, leaning over my partition. “Guess what Mr Yale bought?”
I had not looked up from the quarterly report.
“A company?”
“A necklace.”
My fingers had paused on the keyboard.
Shane had grinned like a man carrying fireworks in his pockets.
“It came from overseas. Custom order. I think it’s for your birthday.”
I had told him not to gossip.
I had pretended not to care.
Then I had spent the rest of the day secretly happy.
Ridiculously happy.
The kind of happy I was old enough to be ashamed of and foolish enough to keep anyway.
My birthday came.
The day passed.
Charles did not mention it.
That evening, after most people had left, I saw the jewellery box on Dakota’s desk.
White ribbon.
Blue velvet.
Imported brand stamp.
The same box Shane had described with far too much excitement.
Charles never remembered my birthday.
Apparently, he had remembered someone else’s.
“What are you looking at?”
His cold voice pulled me back.
I shook my head instinctively.
“Nothing.”
But Charles followed my gaze.
His eyes swept past the necklace at Dakota’s throat.
Then, almost unintentionally, they landed on my bare neck.
His brows furrowed slightly.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Dakota touched the pendant self-consciously.
“Is something wrong?”
“No,” I said. “It suits you.”
Her face softened.
“Thank you. Mr Yale chose it.”
The sentence was innocent.
There was no pride in it.
No cruelty.
Only honest pleasure.
That was why it hurt.
Charles’s expression darkened.
Just before we entered the main banquet hall, he suddenly stopped walking.
Dakota, who had been following him closely, also stopped.
Charles leaned slightly towards me.
His face remained tense, and his gaze stayed fixed ahead, as though even this much softness embarrassed him.
His voice was stiff.
“I’ll get you something better.”
For a moment, I almost found it amusing.
He thought I wanted that necklace?
He thought this was about the price, the stone, the brand, the way it caught the light against Dakota’s skin.
He still did not understand.
It was never about wanting the same thing.
It was about realising I had been waiting for a place in his mind that did not exist.
I gave him my usual polite smile.
“That won’t be necessary, Mr Charles.”
Charles turned his head and stared at me.
Something unreadable churned in his dark eyes, distant and stormy.
After a long silence, he said coldly, “As you wish.”
Then he walked into the hall.
Dakota followed.
So did I.
- Writer
