Son's contempt
872 Words
You Lili diligently outlined the workflow, guiding Annie through the environment with care. Annie adapted swiftly, though by nightfall, exhaustion left her on the verge of collapse.
Returning home, she found Aurora bustling in the kitchen, apron tied about him. The sight of her little Sugar Cub’s industrious figure stirred a faint pang of guilt in Annie—truly, just the tiniest twinge…
“Darling, I adore you!” Dropping a stack of documents and reports, Annie seized his tender cheeks, planting a kiss on skin so soft it soothed her soul—unlike a certain someone, all frost and edges, as if he fancied himself a refrigeration unit!
“Mummy, I adore you too!” Aurora returned the kiss with refined grace, melting Annie’s weary heart into tears of gratitude after her long day.
My son, Mummy cherishes you as mice cherish rice.
“Mummy, how was work today?”
“Don’t ask yet—let me eat a few bites first.” Annie devoured the delicious meal her son had crafted, shoveling it in with ravenous gusto. She was famished beyond measure.
“By the way, darling, what’s with that eager look in your eyes?”
“Eager? That’s disdain for your deplorable table manners, if you must know.”
“Wretched boy!”
“Mummy, do you enjoy the work environment at Blackthorne Inc.?”
“Not in the least!”
“Whyever not?”
Annie clenched her fist, her spirit ablaze with fervor. “Because there’s a beast with eyes aglow in menacing green!”
Aurora tilted his head. “Did you spot anyone familiar, then?”
“Familiar?” Annie c****d her head, sifting through memories of meeting various department heads, mentally cataloging every face. “A heap of strangers, not a single acquaintance.”
“I’m utterly defeated by you!”
“Aurora, what’s that look on your face now? Are you scorning your own mother?”
“Mummy, you sham of a lady! Oh, let’s eat, let’s eat—I should never have harbored grand expectations of you.”
Annie!
Being disdained by her own son felt, quite frankly, utterly abysmal.
In the blink of an eye, a week elapsed, and Annie had firmly established herself at Blackthorne Inc. As Lucian’s chief secretary, her competence left everyone in awe. You Lili, seeing Annie capably hold her own, departed for her vacation with a light heart.
Even the four women in the secretarial office, who’d begun with sneers and jibes, now regarded her with newfound respect.
Through her skill, Annie had proven her worth.
Blackthorne Inc. thrived on fierce competition, a realm where ability reigned supreme—especially among Lucian’s secretaries, each handpicked, distinct, and brimming with pride. To win their genuine admiration, Annie had exerted no small effort.
Her sole vexation lay in facing Lucian’s beguiling visage daily—a torment indeed. Mornings began with tender farewells and blown kisses to her darling boy, only for her to arrive at the company and confront a larger version of that same treasure. She had to constantly restrain herself from impulsively darting over to plant a kiss on Lucian’s cheek.
When it came to eccentricity, Cross and Lucian were cut from the same cloth. Back in England, Annie had meticulously cataloged every liaison of Cross’s mistresses. That man, on a whim, would merely name a paramour, and Annie was expected to summon the woman’s dossier from memory and dispatch him accordingly.
Her deepest frustration stemmed from Cross’s perverse tastes—not for starlets or debutantes, but for married noblewomen. Once he set his sights on one, no husband’s presence deterred him; he’d flirt and bed them all the same.
One could imagine the inferno blazing within Annie’s spirit as she managed such affairs, yearning to hurl him to Mars.
Lucian was scarcely better. Despite a devoted girlfriend—a celebrated socialite—his roster of lovers could dam the Huangpu River. Within her first week, Annie fielded calls from over twenty women, each vying for his time. Lucian foisted it all upon her, tasking her with fending them off.
Pleading, cajoling, berating—she bore it all.
At first, he’d merely wished to witness her flounder. Even the seasoned You Lili had struggled with such romantic entanglements, often driven to exasperation.
Yet Annie defied his expectations.
She welcomed every call from his mistresses with aplomb, listening with a serene smile and conjuring flawless excuses to deflect them. She might tell them all, “The president is in a meeting,” but never twice to the same woman.
Her repertoire of inventive pretexts was nothing short of astounding.
Once, as he pushed open the door, he overheard her chirping sweetly, “The president is currently occupied with Miss Yun Ruoxi in the lounge—it may be a while before he’s free.”
Lucian’s handsome face twisted in indignation.
Yet, undeniably, she was the epitome of competence, handling even this with masterful ease.
“President, my apologies for the fib—it seemed rather in keeping with your flair,” Annie said, her smile radiant and her tone disarmingly innocent.
A barb delivered without a single vulgar word!
Confound it, Cross’s protégés were, without exception, marvels of eccentricity!
- Writer
