NOVPUB
Chapter 66 - 67- finding someone to marry
Monica often thought her life was a complete joke. She had fallen head over heels for a man she had only met once—a married *older* man, no less. Though his appearance was anything but aged, the number of years he had lived was undeniable.
A year later, on a seemingly ordinary day, Monica was assigned by Albert Wilson to attend a bidding conference held by a major bank. Her task was to represent BGIG and present the company's perspective. Albert, as usual, left no room for failure:
"You'd better secure this bid! If you don't, pack up and head back to America to keep my old man company."
Even though Monica had grown more capable over the past year, this was the first time she had to handle such a significant event on her own. She understood that Albert's intention was to push her to grow, but that didn't stop her from cursing him under her breath.
Clutching the proposal she had painstakingly prepared, she sat in the expansive conference room, mentally rehearsing her speech over and over. Despite the room being well-heated, her hands trembled uncontrollably as she gripped the document.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed someone taking the seat beside her, but she was too preoccupied to look. Suddenly, a long, slender hand reached over and pinched the corner of her proposal, firmly stilling her trembling hands.
Already wound up with nerves, the unexpected hand startled her out of her wits—its pale, elegant slenderness only made it more jarring.
She nearly leaped out of her chair. When she looked up, she was met with the face that had haunted her thoughts day and night.
She froze as if turned to stone, pointing at him, then at herself, stammering:
"Y-you, you, you..."
Oh my God!
Was this what they meant by "search high and low only to find it when you least expect it"?
He let out a soft chuckle, releasing his hold on the document. Tilting his head slightly, he asked,
"Sorry, Monica, did I scare you?"
"Yes!"
She responded bluntly, without the slightest filter. He had, in fact, scared her—the sudden hand had startled her, and his unexpected presence had completely thrown her off.
Her heart began to race the moment he appeared. Her direct words first caught him off guard, then he smiled lightly, clearly amused.
She sat beside him, stealing glances at him. His smile was handsome and clean, warm and captivating. She felt like her heart was completely filled.
Eventually, she started making small talk with him. He said he was a guest invited by the bank. She asked why he wasn't sitting in the front row, since guests were usually supposed to sit there.
He simply smiled faintly, a half-hearted shrug, and let it go.
Talking to him was always so easy and relaxed. He didn't have the arrogant attitude of most big bosses. He answered all of her questions, but only those related to academic matters. When it came to personal questions, he pretended not to hear.
Thanks to the conversation, her nervousness slowly faded. By the time it was her turn to speak, she was confident and composed. Her presentation was flawless, and this bidding session made everyone in the finance world aware of Monica, the stunningly beautiful and highly capable secretary at BGIG.
She had made a name for herself.
Of course, she wasn't going to let him off the hook so easily. After the meeting, she immediately tracked him down and insisted on getting his phone number, saying she wanted to invite him to dinner as a thank-you for his guidance that day. He didn't say yes, but didn't refuse either, simply getting into his car and driving off.
Later, she succeeded in getting him to agree to dinner.
Then, a year later, she became his woman. That night, her soft body clung to him like seaweed, savoring the pleasure of being a woman and the ultimate ecstasy he gave her.
The next morning, he smiled lovingly and teased her, saying he almost died in her embrace. He said that with his old bones, he wasn't sure if he could keep up with someone as wild as her. She shyly screamed, then threw herself back at him. In the end, he completely consumed her.
A year later, he smiled and told her that they should no longer stay in touch.
She was completely stunned at that moment, because until then, everything had been fine between them. She never asked about his family or inquired about his whereabouts, content to wait for him to find her.
She didn't want fame or wealth; all she wanted was to be with him. She would willingly spend her life as his mistress.
As long as she had been with him the day before, the next day she would be full of energy—working hard, smiling brightly, and feeling happy.
Albert Wilson had warned her many times to leave him, but she didn't listen.
Her tears had already soaked the thin tissue, warm liquid slipping through her fingers and falling to the cold marble floor, one drop after another, eventually forming a small whirlpool.
Cynthia, seeing her like this, didn't know what to say. The feeling of losing someone you love was something she had been through too. She knew that in such moments, what a person truly needed wasn't comforting words, but someone to be there with them, to let them pour out their pain. 𝚗ovp𝚞b.𝚌om
She gently patted Monica's shoulder.
"Monica, you're drunk. Let me take you home."
It took a long time before Monica finally lifted her face from her hands. Her once-beautiful, seductive face was now streaked with tears, and her eyes were full of unbearable pain. She grabbed Cynthia's arm and shouted,
"Cynthia, tell me, how can I forget him? Is it like you—finding someone to marry and completely cutting off all feelings?"
Before she could finish, the tears started falling again, and her words caused Cynthia's heart to ache. Looking at Monica's anguished expression, the light in her eyes gradually faded, and she murmured,
"If it's really impossible to be together, maybe that way is a good choice to forget him."
"Ha ha—"
Monica suddenly started laughing, her laughter and tears coming together, the more she laughed, the more her tears flowed.
After a while, she finally calmed down, wiped her face, and then turned to rummage through her bag while muttering,
"Sorry, Cynthia, I must be embarrassing you, sigh, look at me, I'm so drunk again, I'll have to call JC to pick me up!"
She had drunk too much, and her hands were unsteady. She somehow managed to dial Jim's number, but accidentally hit the speakerphone. Immediately, a woman's soft, seductive moan came through the phone.
"Ah—ah—hurry up—come on—"
Along with that, there were the heavy, labored breaths of a man.
Cynthia's face immediately turned red. She wasn't inexperienced and knew exactly what was happening on the other side of the call. Monica, however, seemed already used to it. But, out of consideration for Wilson and Cynthia's feelings, she turned off the speakerphone and, holding the phone, stretched her voice as she said:
"JC, I'm drunk, come pick me up and take me home!"
Her face, flushed from the alcohol, added to the effect of her drawn-out tone and slightly pouting red lips, making her look like a little girl throwing a playful tantrum.
Cynthia couldn't help but glance at her again. Perhaps Monica didn't even realize it, but in front of Jim, she was acting like a spoiled child, demanding and behaving as if the world revolved around her.
On the other end, Jim gritted his teeth, yelling into the phone:
"Monica, I'm the vice president's driver, not your personal chauffeur!"
Damn woman. For an entire week now, she'd been calling him every night while he was in the middle of enjoying himself, asking him to pick her up. He was really too tired of dealing with her, but when he heard her slurring her words from drinking, he couldn't bring himself to ignore her.
He was still inside the woman beneath him, who was lying on her stomach on the bed, her enticing body twisting as she moved. When he paused, she blinked her seductive, hazy eyes and groaned in dissatisfaction.
"jim, hurry up..."
The desire that was still unsatisfied made his voice rough. After a deep breath, he shouted into the phone:
"Wait there for me!"
Annoyed, he hung up and grabbed the woman's hips, thrusting hard into her. The powerful force made her cry out, and after a low grunt, he finally reached his release with satisfaction.
He calmed his breathing a little, got off the bed, and walked into the bathroom. Within minutes, he darted out of the bathroom, and before the woman could react, he was already dressed and had disappeared.
By the time he arrived at his destination, the woman was already asleep on the couch. His usually cold Cynthia was sitting beside her, watching over her. Jim felt a little awkward, and Cynthia felt even more embarrassed.
Thinking about the sounds she had heard on the phone earlier, Cynthia couldn't even bring herself to look at him. She grabbed her things and stood up.
"Since you're here, I'll head back now."
She turned to leave.
Jim glanced at the woman's awkward sleeping posture and said to Cynthia:
"Miss Lancaster, it's late. Let me give you a ride home, or... should I call the vice president to pick you up?"
