Then he took Chloe by the arm and led her into a limited-edition sports car, seating her in the co-pilot’s seat no one else was allowed to touch.
After making sure everything for Buddy was arranged, I returned to work.
Ever since my father passed, I had become the sole heir. To secure my position, I agreed to a business marriage with Andrew, arranged by Mr. Smith.
Of course, part of it was my own desire too.
Years ago, when Andrew was a rebellious teen skipping class, he stumbled across me being bullied. He beat them off arrogantly, declaring:
“She’s under my protection. Touch her if you dare.”
To him, it was nothing.
To me, it was everything.
He didn’t even know my name back then.
Naturally, he never realized that from that moment, I had loved him—silently chasing after him for ten long years.
When I reached the office building, the entrance was overflowing with flowers. Only then did I realize—it was Valentine’s Day.
I held back a trace of hope as I looked for Andrew’s bouquet to me.
It was a small, withered bunch, squeezed and dehydrated, looking like the discarded scraps from Chloe’s arrangement.
Just like our relationship—what I received was only what Chloe didn’t want.