Chapter 3

914 Words
Sheila's heart plummeted into an ice cellar. In her years in the workplace, she wasn't some naive newbie who hadn't seen things. She'd faced workplace s****l harassment head-on, broken ties with her superior, gathered evidence to sue, only to be suppressed by fabricated rumors. Her lawyer advised her to take the money, withdraw the lawsuit, and admit defeat. Later, a miracle happened. Several female employees with similar experiences came forward to testify against the manager, and he was finally taken into custody by the police. She not only received compensation but also restored her reputation. Looking back now, it was all Kane's doing. However, that was just a company of ordinary size, and now she was surrounded by powerful and influential figures. Sheila had thought that the Ford Group was half the business world, and as a proper secretary, she was only responsible for business receptions and daily routines, so she wouldn't fall into such a situation. Clearly, she was still too naive. If Killian sold her out now, a low-level employee like her with no background wouldn't even have a place to cry. Moreover, Killian couldn't have reached his position if he were a pushover. Sheila felt like she was sitting on pins and needles, and her hands, clutching the contract, trembled uncontrollably. Just as Sheila was thinking about how to save herself, trying to place her hopes on Justin, her fellow assistant, she heard Killian's casual, cold laughter. "Eric, what you should be asking is whether Miss Emerson is willing. Our company doesn't provide those services." As he spoke, he glanced at Sheila imperceptibly, his tone tinged with impatience. "If you don't want to sign the contract, perhaps I could try talking to your father-in-law, Dawson." The air in the private room seemed to freeze. Eric's face changed slightly, and a hint of anger flashed in his eyes, but he quickly plastered a smile back on his face, took the pen from Sheila's hand, and signed his name with a flourish. "Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Ford." "Pleasure doing business with you!" Killian signaled Justin to collect the contract, then stood up to leave. Sheila quickly got up to follow, but Eric grabbed her wrist. "Miss Emerson, don't go. Think about my offer." "I'm sorry, Mr. Eric, I don't have any plans to switch jobs at the moment." Sheila tried to shake him off, but couldn't, her face pale with fright. Eric was twice Sheila's size. With a little force, he easily restrained her hands. The sickening smell of cologne mixed with alcohol hit her nose, and Sheila felt like she wanted to die. She gritted her teeth and struggled desperately. "Let... go..." "Miss Emerson, come on!" Killian's voice rang out like an ice pick, abruptly cutting through the foul air. Eric, who was drunk, sobered up a little when he met his warning gaze, and the strength of his grip on Sheila loosened. Sheila took the opportunity to yank her wrist back and ran to hide behind Killian. The moment the door closed, a loud crash of a bottle hitting the floor came from the private room, mixed with vulgar foreign curses. However, after only a few steps, Sheila suddenly felt a nauseous churning in her stomach. She quickly ran to the nearby trash can and vomited. She threw up halfway, looked up, and saw Killian frowning not far away. She smiled apologetically. Killian hadn't abandoned her, which was already somewhat humane. She wouldn't dare to make her boss wait for her. She weakly said, "Mr. Ford, you guys go ahead." After speaking, she endured the churning in her stomach again and ran towards the restroom. After vomiting, Sheila didn't feel any better. On the contrary, she felt worse and worse. Her body felt light, and her vision was blurring. She suddenly realized what was happening—there was something wrong with the alcohol she drank. Damn it, Eric, that beast. Sheila took out her phone while weakly walking outside. Her staggering steps meant her body was completely out of control. Sheila stumbled out of the club, her mind foggy and her body hot and restless. At that moment, a black Rolls-Royce slowly stopped in front of her. Half of the car window was lowered, and Sheila saw Killian. If Eric caught her at this moment, she would be done for. She had to leave this place as soon as possible. So, without thinking, she tried to pull the car door open. The car door wasn't locked. Sheila weakly leaned against the other side of the car door, uncomfortably tugging at her damp shirt, feeling extremely restless. Killian noticed something was wrong with her and said to Jerry, "To the hospital." The black Rolls-Royce quickly merged into the traffic and drove onto the elevated road. However, her whole body lurched forward, and when the car suddenly accelerated, her face landed directly on Killian's solid chest muscles. The faint, cool, woody fragrance of the man's body, mixed with the smell of alcohol, was like a refreshing rain to Sheila, who felt as if she was in a parched desert. She kissed him heavily through his shirt and grinned mischievously after succeeding. Killian's flawless, ascetic face, his pupils constricted. "Sheila!" he said in a commanding tone. But Sheila, who was already out of her mind, didn't react at all. Instead, she more boldly wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her red lips against his. "Work injury, Mr. Ford, you're responsible!"  
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