"Zachary, I really love this dress. I just have to have it," Yvette said coyly, clinging to his arm and acting sweet.
Zachary nodded, already negotiating with the manager. “Call the woman who ordered this dress. Tell her I’ll pay an extra 100,000, plus another 100,000 as compensation if she gives it up.”
Hearing this, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly to myself. So, for his "beloved Yvette," he could be this generous.
The store manager was clearly tempted by Zachary’s offer and went to the back to make the call.
I slowly walked up behind Zachary and Yvette spotted me first. Her face turned slightly pale, and she nudged Zachary’s arm, looking pitifully at him.
Zachary turned slowly. The moment his eyes met mine, his expression darkened, as if my presence was an inconvenience. “Why aren’t you at the company, Vivian? There’s so much to handle. What are you doing here?” No shame, no remorse—just immediate accusations, as if I were in the wrong.
I stood there silently, staring at him, not wanting to argue. The tears that might have come last night had already dried up. There was nothing left inside me for him. He wasn’t worth it. Not anymore.