She had a graceful figure and delicate features, but there was a trace of sorrow between her brows as if silently weighed down by uncertainty about her future.
Hearing footsteps behind her, she quickly turned around.
Her full curves instantly caught the eye. The snug black knit sweater clung tightly to her chest, the fabric stretched taut.
"You must be Mr. Tony. I'm Scarlett, it's a pleasure to meet you. Please take care of me." She gave a graceful bow, her tone gentle and refined.
The moment she saw Andrew, a sense of relief washed over her. Her new boss was actually quite handsome—thankfully not some greasy old man nearing retirement.
If he had been like Vincent, she might have chosen death over this arrangement.
"Haha, we'll get familiar with each other soon enough. By the way, did Old Vincent explain everything to you?" Though desire stirred within Andrew, he kept his expression calm.
A dish this fine had to be cooked slowly then would it taste just right.
"Where's your luggage?" he asked, noting that she was empty-handed.
"Vincent told me that my past no longer matters. Honestly, I don't want to remember any of it either. So I threw everything away. I came with only the clothes on my back."
Despite her soft-spoken demeanor, Scarlett had a strong will of her own.
"You don't sound like someone without an education," Andrew probed.
"I graduated from a top university in the East. After falling in love with my ex-husband, I followed him to the southeastern coast. Life was good at first, but then he got hooked on gambling. It started in secret and only got worse. He maxed out our credit cards, borrowed money… and eventually even"
Tears rolled silently down her cheeks.
"It's for the best. I don't owe him anything now. From here on out, we'll go our separate ways and never meet again." She smiled through her tears.
"Sorry, Boss. I've been rambling about my past and embarrassed myself."
Andrew passed her a box of tissues.
"From now on, this is your home. If you have questions, just ask. Everything here is automated, you just need to cook, clean, and keep the place in order."
As he stepped closer, a faint scent drifted over—floral, light… was it natural?
Princess Fragrance?
Scarlett replied sweetly, "I'll work hard to repay your kindness."
"No, no, don't think of it that way," Andrew chuckled. "I may be a capitalist from the U.S., but I've never been stingy with my own people."
"And stop talking about repaying favors. I'm just offering a helping hand. Do your job well, that's more than enough."
She nodded quietly.
"For someone like you, maybe this is nothing. But for me, it's like being given a second chance at life."
"Why don't you go make dinner? Let's see what you've got." Andrew smiled.
"Mr. Tony, just call me Scarlett. My full name's a bit much."
"Then how about 'Scar'?" he offered.
"Alright," she nodded.
"I've already prepared a few outfits for you. Go ahead and change into one."
A subtle smirk played on Andrew's lips as he recalled the uniforms he had ordered online. His heart started to race.
"Where's my room?" she asked, avoiding his gaze.
"You'll be in the room next to mine," he said, pointing. "Everything you need is already in there."
Scarlett gave a small bow and walked inside.
The way her jeans hugged her hips, the subtle sway of her steps—it was captivating.
What a treasure I've found this time.
When she saw the selection of uniforms laid out on the bed, her face flushed with embarrassment.
Her new boss clearly had a bold sense of taste...
Schoolgirl outfit. Maid costume. A skintight bodysuit...
There were over a dozen in total. The fabric was soft and expensive.
How am I supposed to wear something this ridiculous?
But Vincent's warning echoed in her mind:
"If you do well, everyone's happy. Upset the boss, and even your ancestors won't rest in peace."
I didn't volunteer for this. I was forced into it.
Scarlett sighed and chose the most "normal" outfit she could find a standard office-lady suit.
The white blouse had been modified into a sleeveless top with a deep V-neck that plunged to her navel.
The skirt barely covered her hips. It took considerable effort to squeeze her figure into it.
At that moment, she almost regretted being so well-endowed.
She stood at 1.68 meters and weighed just under 50 kilos, but it felt like all her curves had gathered in the most troublesome places.
It took her a full twenty minutes to wriggle into the "simple" outfit.
When she finally stepped out, Andrew looked up and was momentarily stunned.
Scarlett's cheeks were a deep shade of pink. Without a word, she hurried into the kitchen.
Dinner was delightful.
Three dishes and a soup—authentic Eastern cuisine. After eating steak and desserts day after day, Andrew welcomed the change.
Afterward, Scarlett cleared the table and prepared a hot bath for him. She also collected all his clothes and did the laundry.
Some delicate items, she even washed by hand, saying the machine wouldn't clean them thoroughly.
As Andrew enjoyed her attentive, thorough service, the cold, high-tech mansion began to feel more like a home.
Scarlett seemed like the perfect wife—gentle, tolerant, and capable of handling his quirks.
They hadn't crossed any physical lines yet, but Andrew knew when he wanted to, it would happen.
Still, that night, he didn't make any move.
She had just arrived. He wasn't a monster.
He preferred to warm her slowly like a frog in warm water.
As for Pepper not returning all night?
She must've hit maximum tsundere mode.
But he wasn't about to beg.
Some women liked to be coaxed but go too far, and you're just a lapdog.
He wasn't like Dean Walker, sending cringe-worthy midnight texts like "I miss you tonight."
No, he was a billionaire heir, with pride, dignity, and backbone.
Beautiful women were like clothes. Worst-case scenario? Get a new outfit.
"Lucky day, Old Wolf's buying chicken... You call me and I don't pick up, so you call him instead? What's the point of that..."
While enjoying the breakfast Scarlett made, Andrew glanced at his phone on the table.
Caller ID: Pepper
(End of Chapter)
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