Chapter 43: A Socialite

I didn't hate Sister Qian; on the contrary, I was grateful to her. Back then, closing my eyes meant nothing but despair, and Sister Qian was the one who pulled me out of the mire. Thinking it was a path to survival anyway, I resolved to just go for it.

The price the man offered thoroughly satisfied Sister Qian, and of course, he promised to cover my tuition, food, and clothing expenses for the next few years.

Sister Qian's month of training yielded zero results. Despite preparing myself mentally before arriving, once I reached the banquet, I was still terrified. My hands and feet trembled, and wearing high heels I was entirely unaccustomed to, I was the picture of awkwardness and anxiety.

The man's turbid gaze scanned my body without the slightest attempt at discretion, staring straight at my chest and thighs before nodding: "Everything else is fine, truly a little beauty in the making. Just a bit too green, hasn't fully bloomed yet. I'll feel even better in another two years... though I do happen to have a taste for this."

Just as I was shaking with the urge to flee, Christian stood by my side, blocking the other man's line of sight. The young man was tall and handsome, the complete polar opposite of the greasy men Sister Qian knew. Being kept by Christian was my stroke of luck.

He was my other half-benefactor.

Christian helped me find a high-end apartment, not far from my previous home. Because everything in the surrounding area felt familiar, I finally felt a sense of safety. That night, I sat on the bed after my shower, hugging my knees and waiting for Christian's return.

He came back with a multitude of daily necessities. The dim, warm lights of the bedroom spilled across the floor, and the man emerged from the shower with his robe half-open, revealing his broad chest. He sat on the edge of the bed, maintaining a half-meter distance from me, reaching out to stroke my lips. His thumb rubbed against my lip, sparking tiny jolts of current.

I pulled my shoulders in, a strange shiver spreading across my entire body.

Christian leaned over, planting tiny kisses. I lowered my head, half-closing my eyes, responding clumsily, and my body trembled inevitably.

I was still afraid.

Christian’s movements came to a halt. He helped me re-fasten the buttons I had undone, curling his lips into a gentle smile: "Let's wait a bit longer, no rush." It wasn't until I reached eighteen that he finally touched me.

After that incident, I never returned to the floral arrangement class, and I never saw Crystal again.

At the beginning of the month, Christian took me to a private gathering.

I chose a black dress with cutouts at the waist and back, exposing the charming curves of my waist. Two friends I knew were in attendance, but the rest of the guests were unaware of the relationship between Christian and me. The moment we walked in, Christian was dragged away by friends for a chat, so I grabbed a glass of red wine to catch up with my friends.

After chatting about the frustrations of our domestic lives, one of my friends nudged my shoulder, gesturing for me to look ahead to the right: "What's going on over there?"

I raised my eyes. Christian, who had been conversing with our two friends, suddenly had a girl in a red dress appear by his side. The girl whispered something, and Christian reached out to steady her shoulder and arm. She leaned in, practically pressing her entire body into Christian's embrace.

Tsk, what a delicate, shrinking flower.

A friend beside me let out a soft snort, her eyes brimming with layered contempt and disdain: "The little homewrecker, have you no shame? Coming in broad daylight to steal a man."

This girl was named Anna, a rising star in the circle. Having only been on the scene for six months, she was already a well-known socialite.

She didn't linger by Christian for long—or rather, Christian showed zero interest in her. The girl grabbed a slice of cake and found a spot to eat, and I slowly drifted toward her.

Chapter 44: Be Careful, My Dear

She seemed to be aware of my status and called me "Sister." I replied that she shouldn't be so formal, as I was simply a secretary for Director Christian.

Anna, of course, didn't believe me and hurried to explain: "I accidentally twisted my ankle earlier, and Mr. Christian just happened to see it, which is why he gave me a hand. I hope you don't misunderstand."

She was acting the part quite convincingly.

I lowered my head to look at the girl's slender, fair right ankle, where the skin near the instep was slightly reddened. I let out an "Oh," my face filled with concern. "Is it serious? Should you go to the hospital?"

She bowed her head slightly, her long eyelashes fluttering like a doll's, and said shyly, "It's a minor injury, nothing too problematic."

I didn't press the matter further, but who would have thought this brat would be so stubborn? After a while, she found another excuse to lean in close to Christian. This time, I truly couldn't stand it any longer. I walked straight over and linked my arm through hers. "Sister, care to accompany me to the restroom?"

In front of the bright mirror in the restroom, I dropped my pleasant mask, snatched Anna's handbag, and dumped the contents out. Aside from her phone, there were a few cosmetics, a pack of women's cigarettes, and a lighter. I opened her blush compact, staring with a smile at the girl's "twisted" ankle. "Aren't you afraid of your makeup rubbing off if you wear this?"

With that, I bent down, pressed my hand onto her ankle, and gave it a light rub, my finger instantly picking up a thin layer of red powder. "Looks like the staying power is a bit poor." I shoved the blush compact back into her bag, turned on the faucet to rinse my hands, grabbed a paper towel to dry them, and asked with a smile while crossing my arms: "This wouldn't be a fake product, would it?"

Anna's face drained of all color in an instant.

I leaned against the washbasin and smiled: "A word of advice: Mr. Christian doesn't care for women who force themselves on him."

The girl was quite beautiful—only eighteen, with snow-white skin, dark hair, red lips, and just the right amount of charm between her brows. Her every movement betrayed no childishness. Moreover, her features were delicate, giving the illusion of a well-bred girl from a wealthy family.

She just didn't understand how to restrain the ambition in her eyes.

If the ambition in her eyes wasn't so glaring, she would likely be much more attractive to men.

Seeing that I had seen through her, she dropped the act and said coldly: "Then Sister had better be careful. There’s no rule saying Director Christian must belong only to you. If you have the ability, hold onto him tight; don't let someone else snatch him away. And if someone does snatch him away, there's nothing you can do about it, right? You're just a woman without a title yourself, aren't you?"

I picked up her cigarette, pulled one out, and lit it. Exhaling a ring of smoke, the long-lost sensation of nicotine flooded my brain, and I closed my eyes to savor the faint pleasure.

One minute later, I opened my eyes slowly, my expression calm as ever: "Do you think you're the first one to say that?"

Anna was quite composed herself, showing no hint of fear on her face: "I can be the last." She stared at me. "Besides, I'm younger than you; I have plenty of youth ahead of me, unlike you, who will start to fade in a few years."

I crushed the cigarette butt into the back of her hand. Anna's hand spasmed, and she snatched it away quickly, raising her hand to strike me: "You crazy woman!"

I clamped down on Anna's wrist, neutralizing her movement. A faint, pink mark remained on the back of her hand, and I let out a soft sigh: "Still a bit too young after all."

Since Christian took me in, it wasn't as if no one had clung to him before; there had been girls more beautiful than the one in front of me. Most of them had faces but no brains, and I had managed to send them all packing with various methods.

I leaned close to Anna's ear, sniffing the scent in her hair, and whispered: "There have been those who succeeded, even one who got pregnant." I paused, then asked: "Do you know what happened to her later?"

Chapter 45: Not as Beautiful as You

"Did she think she could climb to the top? Wrong." I intentionally controlled my voice, my tone as cold as midwinter ice. "Later, she was forced to have an abortion. I heard that because she couldn't keep the child, she suffered a mental breakdown."