Acquisition
359 Words
Emily returned home to her mother's probing: “How was the date?”
“The guy looked like a K-pop idol,” Emily shrugged.
Mrs. Carter read between lines. “Come—I made blackfish tofu stew. Consider it free celebrity spotting.”
The lingering disappointment evaporated. Mother-daughter bonding ensued—an early evening stroll through night markets, Emily's arm looped through her mother's.
Meanwhile, Alexander Grant dined at his penthouse with Claire Ai—a 24-year-old from Pinnacle Group's admin department. Her divorced mother cooked for the Grant family, their live-in staff housed in estate cottages.
Claire had clung to Alexander since freshman year at a third-tier college. Now an economics graduate, she juggled dual roles: daytime employee, nighttime companion.
At 6:30 PM, her text pinged: “Dinner's ready. ETA?”
His reply arrived 30 minutes late: “8 PM.”
She plated stir-fried abalone at 7:45. Alexander ate between calls, vanished into his study, then claimed her body wordlessly past midnight.
By dawn, he'd left. Claire straightened silk sheets before commuting in her “modest” Nissan Tiida—a far cry from his garage of unpronounceable supercars.
Origins of Entrapment
Their entanglement began years prior—Claire fetching boxes to his study, the door clicking shut. No promises followed, just birth control mandates and last year's abortion ultimatum: “Keep it, and lose everything.”
Now in the cafeteria, Claire's gaze lingered on Emily—that buoyant secretary who navigated Alexander's orbit unscathed. How? she wondered.
Emily, spotting Claire's haunted look, offered a polite nod before devouring braised pork.
Corporate Crossroads
A crisis interrupted lunch—Alexander's push to acquire a design firm. His team narrowed options to Skyline Designs, coincidentally Xiao Ze's workplace.
In the conference room, Xiao Ze froze upon recognizing Emily. Last night's failed date now sat stone-faced beside Pinnacle's CEO.
As Xiao Ze presented cleanroom facility blueprints, Emily's laser focus impressed him—her notes meticulous, questions razor-sharp.
Three hours later, Alexander queried casually: “You know that designer?”
“Barely,” Emily lied smoothly. “Wedding table small talk.”
Alexander's smirk suggested otherwise as he leaned back, eyes closed.
- Writer
