Illusion or Reality

Chapter 4

Saturday—a day that college students usually look forward to as a chance to unwind—now greeted her with bright rays of sunshine. A day that’s typically filled with leisurely activities or time spent with family had now vanished without a trace from Grace’s sweet life.

The woman blinked her eyes, which felt incredibly heavy. A wry smile appeared on her lips. Without realizing it, she had cried herself to sleep all night, ending up in a very uncomfortable position.

Instead of resting her body on the bed—even though it wasn’t as soft as the one she used to have—Grace had let herself fall asleep sitting on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed.

Grace forced herself to stand up, stretching her stiff muscles. A dull ache spread through all her joints due to her awkward sleeping posture. Yet her expression remained blank, without a single trace of sadness lingering there. It was as if, the night before, she hadn’t been a shattered soul. As if crying in the silence of the night were just a routine, and she refused to remain lost in despair now that a new day had dawned.

She grabbed a small towel and draped it over one shoulder. She walked toward the bathroom, washed her sticky face, and freshened up. When she was done, her long legs carried her back to the closet.

A long vibration from the smartphone on the nightstand broke the silence.

Grace’s steps halted. One of her eyebrows arched. "Who on earth was sending a notification this early in the morning?"

Grace, who never liked letting unread messages pile up, immediately snatched up the slim device. Her fingers danced nimbly across the screen, unlocking it with ease.

The cheerfulness that had briefly flashed across her face faded instantly. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. A barrage of online bills relentlessly filled her screen—from electricity and water bills to college tuition installments whose amounts were enough to choke her. Not to mention, she had been behind on these payments for the past few months.

“I haven’t paid this month’s apartment rent yet either, even though it’s still early in the month,” she muttered, her brow deeply furrowed.

If she let this pile of debt keep growing, she could be sure the building management would kick her out without mercy, and she wouldn’t have a roof over her head to get through this empty summer.

Grace bit her lower lip anxiously. “I don’t want to end up homeless on the streets. But borrowing money from the bank isn’t a solution either. The interest on the loan will only trap me even deeper.”

She slumped down on the edge of the bed. An overwhelming sense of exhaustion washed over her. She was still breathing, but her life felt like a long, drawn-out torment. Thinking about this despair suddenly brought back memories of her late father.

Flashback to

“Honey, come here.”

Grace, who had just turned seventeen, smiled brightly and immediately walked toward her father, though there was still a little distance between them.

“What is it, Father?”

The middle-aged man, whose hair was beginning to show gray, looked at his daughter with a loving gaze. He felt time was passing so quickly; it seemed like only yesterday he’d watched his daughter learn to sit, walk, and run.

“Honey, what do you want to do when you grow up?”

Grace’s smile grew even wider. “Of course, to make Father and Mother happy.”

Her father returned the smile, though a hint of worry flickered in his eyes. His daughter had never changed—she was always pure and innocent. It was that very nature that made him anxious to imagine Grace’s future if he were no longer by her side.

“I know you love us very much. But you also have to chart your own course for the future. It’s not possible for Father’s beloved daughter to keep depending on us forever, is it? The time will come when I can’t be by your side, when I can’t fulfill all your wishes. When that time comes, you have to be able to stand on your own two feet.”

Grace looked at her father with a wistful gaze, her fingers clasped nervously. She was well aware that she tended to shut herself off from the outside world, and she did so solely to protect herself from the pain caused by the miracle she possessed. Only her parents and her older brother truly understood her situation.

“Why are you saying that, Father? You’ll always be by my side,” Grace insisted.

Her father gave her another gentle smile. “Grace, I’ll always try to be there for you. But when fate forces me to leave, you must keep moving forward. Never give in to circumstances.”

Grace smiled again, her heart feeling relieved. “Of course! Your daughter is a strong girl.”

Flashback off

A faint smile graced Grace’s face. Only the memories of her family’s warmth were enough to keep her going. Every second she spent with them was carefully stored in her mind.

Grace stood up, clenched her fists, and raised them into the air. “I have to find a new job! I must!” she declared firmly.

She couldn’t rely solely on her part-time job at the café, where the pay was barely enough to keep her from going hungry—and she’d already been fired from that. She needed a steady job, a professional position that could cover all her bills.

Before she knew it, an hour had passed. Grace was now standing in front of the mirror, still wrapped in her bathrobe. Her eyes scanned the rows of clothes in the closet. She was racking her brain, trying to find an appropriate outfit for a job interview in the city’s business district.

Her choice fell on a long-sleeved black dress. The cut fell elegantly just below the knee, with a neat collar resembling a blazer and a fabric belt that sat neatly around her waist.

At first glance, the dress looked simple. However, anyone with a keen eye would immediately recognize the high-quality fabric and top-notch tailoring. The garment was the work of a renowned designer, a remnant of the luxury collection left over from her heyday as the daughter of a conglomerate tycoon. Still, at least this dress didn’t look too flashy compared to her other party dresses.

Satisfied with her appearance, Grace placed her résumé and journalism portfolio into a brown folder. To complete her look, she paired the dress with a matching pair of black low-heeled shoes.

The sound of the doorknob turning marked her first step out of the apartment building. The fresh morning air immediately greeted her. However, for some reason, she felt a little uneasy. The stares of the people around her seemed to pierce right through her. They were blatantly making her the center of attention, even though many other career women were passing by wearing similar formal attire.

The young woman glanced at her job application folder for a moment, then looked up at the skyscraper towering before her. She could only pray that her string of academic achievements, her experience with the campus newspaper, and her transcript filled with A’s would convince this company to hire her.

The sun climbed higher, reaching its zenith in the city sky. The air, which had been fresh, slowly turned scorching hot. On top of that, the hustle and bustle of traffic and the capital’s gridlock made this crowded environment even more suffocating.

A look of despair began to etch itself clearly on Grace’s face. Five media and public relations companies had already rejected her applications that morning. It wasn’t that she wanted to jump to conclusions, but during the interview at the fifth company earlier, she had accidentally overheard the HR manager mention the name “Mr. Dave” over the phone. The manager, who had initially seemed impressed by her reporting portfolio, suddenly changed his mind and flatly rejected her without a clear reason.

“Is Dave using his connections to ruin my future?” Grace thought painfully.

Now, Grace stood frozen in front of a massive building bearing the sign “Sterling Group.” This was a multinational corporation with the third-largest network in the world. Doubt clouded her heart. If even mid-sized companies had rejected her, what chance did she have with a giant conglomerate like this? Still, she had to push those negative thoughts aside. Better to fail after trying than to give up without a fight.

“Excuse me, ma’am. I’m here to apply for a job,” Grace said politely to the receptionist at the front desk.

The two female receptionists looked up and returned her smile.

“Wow, she’s so beautiful,” one of the receptionists whispered to her colleague, her voice still clear enough for Grace to hear.

“That’s true,” her colleague replied just as quietly.

Grace responded to the compliment with only a faint smile.

“Please have a seat in the waiting area. I’ll contact our HR team first,” said the first receptionist politely.

“Thank you.” Grace nodded politely, then turned toward the waiting area.

Fifteen minutes passed. During that time, Grace once again became the focus of stares from passing employees. Her daydream was interrupted when a female staff member in a formal uniform stopped in front of her. Grace hurriedly stood up.

The staff member guided Grace down a long hallway. Their steps came to a halt in front of a solid wooden door that was tightly closed. The staff member invited her in, and Grace responded with a grateful nod.

Grace clenched her fist tightly. “I can do this. Come on!”

With slightly trembling fingers, she turned the doorknob. The soft squeak of metal slowly accompanied her steps. Inside the spacious room, three members of the selection committee were seated behind a long table, busy sorting through a stack of documents. One of them was an elegantly dressed middle-aged woman in a maroon dress.

Grace bowed her head in a gesture of respect. Without needing further instruction, she stepped forward and sat down in the single chair placed right in the center of the room.

“Please introduce yourself,” ordered a Caucasian man with piercing blue eyes.

Grace took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. She had to stay calm.

“Good morning, members of the Selection Committee. My name is Grace Charlotte Clarke. I’m a journalism major.”

The man next to him—a man with eyes as black as soot—snorted loudly. “What? An undergraduate student, not even a graduate yet, has the nerve to apply to this company?! Just so you know, Miss, we’ve flat-out rejected plenty of candidates with master’s degrees. Where do you get the—”

A sudden vibration from a smartphone on the table cut off the man’s sharp remark. “Sorry, hold on a moment.”

Grace squeezed the hem of her dress, trying to ease her tension. She was slightly relieved that the recruiter’s outburst had been put on hold. However, that didn’t mean she was off the hook for the next round of grilling.

Slowly, Grace mustered the courage to look up. She saw the dark-eyed man’s eyes widen, a look of surprise clearly etched on his face as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line. However, within seconds, he regained his composure and resumed his professional demeanor.

“What’s really going on?” Grace wondered to herself.

On the other end, a cold, commanding baritone voice sounded authoritative. “There will be no Q&A. I will not repeat my order. Hire her, and tell her she’ll start working as my Personal Secretary on Monday.”

The call was abruptly disconnected.

The man with the three-pronged hairdo stared at his phone screen in disbelief. He slowly shifted his gaze to Grace, who was still sitting calmly in her chair.

“What’s the connection between this college student and our CEO?” the man thought frantically.

Their top executive—a man known for his cold and ruthless nature—had suddenly called the interview room directly, bypassing his assistant. His heart nearly stopped at the unexpected call.

The man cleared his throat softly to steady his voice. “Hand over your job application.”

Grace flashed a relieved smile. Just a few seconds ago she had been insulted and was preparing to be kicked out; now the man was actually asking her to hand over her documents.

The selection committee members whispered to one another as they flipped through the pages of Grace’s documents, scrutinizing her list of journalism competition certificates and written works—from the national to the international level.

The man then gently closed the brown folder. “All right.”

Grace’s heart seemed to stop beating for a moment as she waited for the final decision that could potentially change her life.

“You’re hired. And starting next Monday, you’ll be working as the CEO’s Personal Secretary.”