Yichen's POV
She kissed me.
Drunk. Again.
Her lips were warm and soft, tasting like wine and heartbreak. For a second, I forgot the world existed. I wanted to hold her hips, pull her closer, and finally give in to the days of restraint clawing at me.
But I made a deal with my brother.
Until I take back what's mine in this company—until I'm stronger than him—I can't break it.
Because if I do, Hua becomes a pawn in this war.A weapon my brother can use against me.
I can't touch her.
But I can't not touch her either.
Every second without her feels like punishment.
Every glance I steal across a room feels like a crime I'd gladly repeat.
I missed her. Too much.
So I did the only thing I could do — I pushed her away.
Her lips parted, confusion flickering in her eyes. The flush on her cheeks wasn't only from the alcohol. It was from hope — a hope I was about to shatter.
"You don't love me," she mumbled, voice thick, words barely holding together.
I froze.
How could I answer that when every breath I took screamed her name?
"You—" she tried again, pointing at me with a trembling finger, her words spilling out like broken glass. "You made me feel special."
My chest tightened. That was a confession.
A confession I'd been dying to hear, but wasn't allowed to return.
"You made me forget my heartbreak," she said, swallowing hard, trying to stay upright. "You made me feel like I could be happy again."
You can, Hua. You can be happy—with me.
If only you'd wait.
"But you're not better than your brother!"
Ouch. That one stung.
She stepped back, her eyes glistening with tears that caught the streetlight. "You came into my life, made me think I was special, then left without saying a word, like it was nothing!"
I didn't leave, I wanted to say.
I never would.
But the words got stuck somewhere in my throat, dying before they could reach her.
"I hate you," she said finally.
I hate myself too.
She swayed on her feet. Her knees buckled.
I rushed forward—but someone beat me to it.
"Yiran."
My brother's voice cut through the night like a blade.
He caught her easily, holding her against his chest. She looked so small there, her face hidden against his shoulder. My hands curled into fists.
"Don't forget our deal," he said coldly, still not looking at me. His attention was entirely on her.
"If you truly care about her," I snapped, "you wouldn't force her to transfer departments. You wouldn't make her life at work so damn hard."
He finally looked at me, eyes dark. "I'm protecting her—from you."
I laughed. A hollow, bitter sound. "Protecting her? From me? Maybe you should protect her from yourself, brother. What kind of future does she have with a man she can't even marry?"
That hit a nerve.
He didn't respond. Just smiled — that smug, dangerous smile — and walked away with her still in his arms.
Leaving me alone with the sound of the fountain and my own heartbeat echoing in my ears.
___
That night, I didn't sleep.
I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, wishing it would collapse on me.
She hated me.
And there was nothing I could do about it. Not now.
But if she could wait—just a little longer—until I become vice president…
Then Yiran wouldn't be able to touch her.
Wouldn't be able to use her against me.
She'd be mine again.
___
The next morning, I dragged myself out of bed with an ache that wasn't just from lack of sleep.
My phone buzzed — a message from Zé Zichen, the programmer I'd been collaborating with.
We were developing a new AI device: something that could automatically sort, transfer, and back up photos from your phone to any device — SD card, computer, you name it. No more storage nightmares.
It had massive potential.
If I nailed this project, it could be the final push I needed to outrank Yiran.
So I forced myself up, put on a crisp shirt, and met Zé at a café downtown.
The café was small but elegant, with sunlight pouring through the big windows and the faint smell of roasted beans.
Zé was already there, waving at me like an overexcited golden retriever.
"Morning, boss!" he said, grinning. "I brought the prototype."
"Let's see it," I replied, sitting down.
He opened his laptop, showing me the interface. I nodded, trying to focus. The code was impressive — faster, smoother than expected. He'd done good work.
But then something shifted in my peripheral vision.
Through the glass window of the café, I saw her.
Hua.
She was outside, walking beside an older man in a white shirt — her new department chief.
My pulse stumbled.
It was a day off.
So what the hell was she doing meeting him?
Zé kept talking, but I wasn't hearing him anymore. My eyes were glued to her — the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the soft smile she gave him.
Jealousy hit like a punch to the gut.
Then, as if the universe wanted to torture me, they walked into the café.
This café.
I instinctively ducked, lowering my head so fast that my chair squeaked.
Zé blinked. "Uh… what are you doing?"
"Shh!" I hissed. "Don't look."
He glanced around anyway. "What's wrong?"
"Keep your voice down!"
Then his eyes widened. "Oh! Isn't that your wife?"
My heart stopped. "Don't say it out loud!"
"Why are we hiding?" he whispered, frowning. "Wait—who's that guy with her? Is she chea—"
Before he could finish that cursed sentence, I shoved a croissant into his mouth.
"Eat," I muttered through clenched teeth.
He mumbled something muffled and gave me a betrayed look.
Meanwhile, Hua and her chief sat just a few tables away.
Close enough that I could hear snippets of their voices over the clatter of cups.
Zé leaned in, whispering, "Are we seriously eavesdropping on your wife?"
"Yes," I said flatly.
He grinned. "This is so rom-com of you."
"Shut up."
I focused on her voice. It was soft, hesitant.
"So… why did you ask me to meet you here?" the chief asked.
Hua hesitated. Her fingers fidgeted with her purse strap before she finally pulled out an envelope.
My stomach dropped.
"I want to resign," she said quietly.
For a moment, I thought I'd misheard.
Zé turned to me, wide-eyed, crumbs still on his chin. "Did she just—"
"Yes," I whispered. My throat went dry.
Resign?
From the company? From me?
Why?
All I could do was watch as she placed the envelope on the table, her expression calm but her shoulders trembling ever so slightly.
The chief looked surprised. "You sure about this, Hua? You just got promoted."
She nodded. "I thought it was what I wanted… but lately I've been feeling like I don't belong there anymore."
The chief sighed. "If it's about what happened with the transfer, I can talk to HR—"
"It's not that," she interrupted gently. "It's just… I need a break. From everything."
From everything.
I clenched my jaw. The sound of those words burned in my chest.
Zé looked at me like he was watching a drama unfold. "Damn, boss. You look surprise, she didn't tell you about it?"
I didn't answer. My mind was already spinning, torn between storming over there and dragging her out—or staying hidden because I'd already hurt her enough.
She didn't even know I was there, just a few meters away, dying quietly over my cup of coffee.
When she stood up.
She continued, voice quieter now. "It's not about the job. It's about me. I just need… to stop."
The air in my chest turned heavy.
To stop.
To stop seeing me?To stop hurting?To stop caring?
My hands tightened around my coffee cup until the ceramic groaned.
Zé looked at me, horrified. "Boss. She's actually quitting."
I didn't move. My brain was caught between disbelief and anger and panic.
Zé whispered, "So… what are you gonna do?"
My heartbeat pounded against my ribs, steady and fierce.
I stared at that envelope lying on the table she'd just left behind.
Then I pushed my chair back.
To be continued...
___
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