Crimson Contract

Ex-boyfriend

Years had elapsed since Annie last beheld Cain and Vivian, and the sight of them struck her with a momentary astonishment.

"Annie, how is it that you find yourself here?" Cain Vesper exclaimed in a startled outburst, his composure forsaken, while beside him, Vivian, after an initial flicker of surprise, cast a gaze tinged with envy, a sinister gleam flashing through her eyes.

"Cain, I serve as President Blackthorne’s secretary," Annie replied with a graceful smile.

"Annie, to encounter you here is beyond my wildest expectations!" Cain rushed forward in exhilaration, seizing her hand in a firm grip, his eyes alight with cunning calculation. The Vesper Clan’s salvation was at hand—this was his moment, one he must seize with unwavering resolve.

Rumors had long circulated of Lucian’s remarkably capable secretary, yet none had whispered that it was Annie. So youthful, with the air of a university student, what qualifications could she possess to secure such a position? Surely, it was her beauty that had ensnared Lucian in some clandestine affair, granting her this coveted role. A sour pang twisted within Cain; he had courted Annie for a year without so much as a kiss, only for another to claim her first. Jealousy gnawed at him, bitter and unrelenting.

Yet, for now, preserving The Vesper Clan was paramount. As for Annie, seven years had wrought a remarkable transformation in her. The innocence remained, pure and unblemished, but the awkward simplicity of youth had vanished, replaced by a striking elegance. How captivating she had become! If she could grace Lucian’s bed, why not his own? For the present, he must entreat her aid, and in time…

"Have you missed me? These six years, I’ve longed for you desperately, searching tirelessly for any trace of your whereabouts. Where have you been?"

Annie’s expression darkened subtly, her lashes lowering as she regarded Cain’s fervent clasp upon her hand. Were they truly so familiar? And this gentleman—how lamentable his error! It was seven years, not six. Could he not rehearse his performance beforehand to avoid such an obvious blunder?

What arrogance he presumed! She had known Cain would come today, yet truth be told, his face had faded from her memory entirely—only now did it resurface, a faint shadow of negligible presence.

"Cain, the president awaits you within," Annie murmured with a serene smile.

"A secretary, or perhaps a paramour?" Vivian interjected sharply, her words dripping with malice. Lucian’s reputation as a philanderer was notorious, and it was hardly uncommon for such a man to indulge in the temptations nearest at hand. Even in their school days, Vivian had harbored a deep aversion to Annie, feigning friendship only to draw closer to Cain and wrest him away without a shred of remorse. That woman, with her guileless, pristine visage, was ever the deceiver.

"So long as it isn’t matrimony, any dalliance between man and woman might be deemed a lover’s tryst. Miss Chen, how many beds do you change in a day?" Annie inquired with a radiant smile, her retort a venomous barb. She, too, could wield mockery with lethal precision.

"Annie, you—" Vivian’s face blanched with fury.

"What transpires here?" A voice, frigid and laced with wrath, cut through the air, chilling the floor as though winter had descended. Lucian’s piercing gaze swept over the joined hands of Cain and Annie, narrowing with a cold fury. Swiftly, Annie extricated herself from Cain’s grasp, standing poised and unruffled.

The other secretaries quailed in dread; the president’s visage was a terrifying storm.

At Lucian’s entrance, Vivian’s eyes gleamed with a predatory hunger, like a ravenous wolf beholding a succulent feast. She struck her most alluring pose, her gaze sultry and inviting.

How shamelessly she flaunted herself!

"President, Cain has arrived!" Annie announced.

"Cain, if your purpose is to trifle with my secretary, I bid you depart. And you, Annie, during working hours, conduct yourself with professionalism and refrain from such entanglements!" Lucian’s countenance darkened as he strode into his office.

Annie suppressed a shiver. Who was the true magnet for admirers here?

Vivian cast a scornful glance at the chastised Annie, then sauntered in with haughty strides, her heels clicking triumphantly.

What a tiresome creature! If Lucian could be swayed by such a specimen, Annie would gravely question his discernment.

Bearing three cups of coffee, Annie entered the office, intending to withdraw, when Lucian’s gaze hardened, his voice icy: "Annie, remain and observe!"

A flawless secretary questions not her superior’s commands.

"Yes, sir," Annie replied, though his intent eluded her. She stood silently aside, wary of this enigmatic, unrelenting man whose depths she could not fathom. With her modest experience, prudence was her shield against calamity.

What purpose did Lucian have in detaining her? Cain could not decipher their bond. A man like Lucian, profound and inscrutable, defied easy understanding, while Annie, ever the mask of sweet propriety, offered no clues.

Vivian, who had been casting coquettish glances at Lucian in hopes of capturing his notice, bristled with resentment at Annie’s presence. That wretched woman, forever thwarting her designs! Lucian—wealthy beyond measure, breathtakingly handsome, and wielding immense power—was the prize Vivian coveted. Should he favor her, she was certain of winning his heart, and then she would see Annie cast out in disgrace.

Annie, reading the venom in Vivian’s glare, offered a silent, sardonic smile. Dear lady, hasten to the market for a bed and dream your fantasies there—far swifter than reality’s cruel jest.

The Vesper Clan, a venerable purveyor of daily goods in A City, had once thrived. Yet this past year, battered by financial turmoil, it faltered. Cain’s losses in the stock market had strained the company’s coffers, leaving him to beseech Blackthorne Inc. for an infusion of capital to stave off ruin.

"President Blackthorne, we boast a robust network of reliable manufacturers and a loyal clientele. The Vesper Clan’s potential for growth is vast; it suffers merely a temporary liquidity shortfall. With your investment, I am confident of restoring its vigor. To you, this is a trifling sum, a venture without loss—would you not agree?" Cain entreated with obsequious fervor.

Lucian’s fathomless eyes betrayed no sentiment as he perused The Vesper Clan’s annual performance and projections. His elegant fingers tapped the desk in a measured rhythm, each sound a hammer striking Cain’s anxious heart. Swallowing hard, Cain watched him, breathless with tension. A single word from Lucian could determine The Vesper Clan’s fate.

"President Blackthorne, pray consider it! The Vesper Clan holds distinct advantages in its field. Wealth shared is wealth multiplied, is it not?" Vivian cooed, her voice cloying.

The saccharine tone sent a shudder through Annie. Must she so thoroughly disgust them all? Glancing at her arm, she noted the riot of gooseflesh it provoked.

"Annie, what is your counsel?" Lucian raised his head, his query unexpected.