Clara was a rising star, handpicked by the Harris Group for their latest commercial shoot. Today was
supposed to be her big moment in front of the
cameras.
But in a stroke of terrible luck, Ivy had accidentally bumped into Clara right outside the Harris Group’s
headquarters, leaving a noticeable mark on her face. The mishap threatened to derail the entire
commercial, and Ivy couldn’t shake the fear that the company’s executives might be on the warpath to
settle scores.
With her head lowered, Ivy hesitated, unsure of what to do next. Escape seemed impossible; they’d
even followed her onto the bus. Trapped in her seat, Ivy let out a resigned sigh and said, “Alright, I’ll go
back with you to see the CEO. I owe him an explanation for today’s disaster. But first, may I call my
family?”
The woman smiled politely and nodded, “Of course.”
Ivy slid a bit further into her seat, pulled out her phone, and texted Balfour.
[Mr. Howard, I’m sorry, I think I’ve caused you trouble again.]
She hated to bother Balfour, especially now, but if the Harris Group was going to demand
compensation for Clara’s accident, which was very likely, she didn’t have the money to cover it. Jobless
and strapped for cash, Balfour was the only person she could think of with the means and possibly the
willingness to help her, given their history.
Hoping he’d take pity on her, considering how diligently she’d played the role of his wife, she asked if
he might lend her some money once more.
After sending the message, Ivy turned to the woman from the Harris Group with a forced smile and
said, “Okay, let’s go.”
She followed the employee off the bus and back to the scene of the earlier chaos, the Harris Group’s
imposing office building. Returning to the place where the fiasco unfolded, Ivy felt a knot of
embarrassment and anxiety tighten in her stomach.
She just hoped that the CEO of the Harris Group wouldn’t be too harsh, and that the demanded
compensation would be minimal.
The employee led her to the CEO’s office, stopping at the door with a grin, “Ivy, Mr. Harris is waiting for
you inside. You can go in by yourself.”
“Um… By myself?” Ivy stuttered nervously, taking a deep breath, “Okay then… I’m going in.”
Mustering up her courage, Ivy pushed open the door to the office and entered with her gaze lowered,
“Hello, Mr. Harris, I heard you wanted to see me.”
The man behind the desk found Ivy’s nervous demeanor rather endearing. “Ivy, why so tense? Don’t
you want to look up and see me?”
Hearing the familiar male voice, Ivy froze. A familiar face from the past suddenly flashed in her mind.
That voice…
She furrowed her brow and tentatively lifted her gaze, finally seeing the man sitting in the executive
chair behind the desk.
Relief washed over her as she recognized him, “Nolan, is it really you?”
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