Kylie felt bad for causing trouble for Alex, so she quietly murmured, "Sorry, Mr. Hill. I'll be more careful next time."
Alex turned to face her and was about to scold her. But then he paused, his expression thoughtful.
"Did Mr. Sinclair say you were working part-time at a nightclub?"
Kylie saw the hint of gossip—and something more inappropriate—in his eyes. She quickly responded, "Mr. Hill, I was just working as a regular waitress. Please don't read into it."
"Did you run into Mr. Sinclair at the nightclub?"
Alex's sharp instincts kicked in, and his words hit the mark. Kylie was left speechless, unsure how to respond.
Lana, ever the gossip, immediately leaned in and said, "Hey, Kylie, I think you look a lot like Mr. Sinclair's fiancee!"
As she spoke, Lana pulled out her phone and started comparing photos.
Alex raised an eyebrow, glanced at the photo on Lana's phone, and then studied Kylie with narrowed eyes. He nodded slowly.
"Yeah, there's definitely a resemblance."
Lana, with her eternal bystander mentality, began analyzing the situation, oblivious to Kylie's discomfort.
"Maybe when you were working at the club, Mr. Sinclair noticed you and thought you looked like her. That's why he remembers you."
Kylie lowered her gaze. The words that she looked like Jonathan's fiancee felt like soft thorns, pricking at her heart.
A few days later, the HR department sent out a notice about personnel changes.
The company chat erupted with messages tagging Kylie, but she was too busy sorting through project materials to notice anything happening.
When Lana saw the email, she gasped in surprise and immediately rushed to Kylie's desk.
"Kylie, congratulations!"
Kylie was completely confused and asked, "Congratulations? What for?"
Lana snatched the files from Kylie's hands, pushing her to look at her inbox.
"You've been appointed as the CEO's executive assistant! Look at the email!"
Kylie blinked in shock as she refreshed her inbox and saw the personnel change notice.
Executive assistant to the CEO? That title alone sparked all sorts of thoughts.
Kylie felt a strong resistance inside her. She didn't understand why Jonathan was acting this way—she didn't want to see him every day.
Her mind was spinning, but Lana spoke up from beside her with envy, "I never would've guessed that looking like the CEO's future wife would have such perks! The salary for an executive assistant is way higher than what we make in the finance department!"
Just then, the phone on the desk rang—it was Michael calling.
"Ms. Cooper, please come to the CEO's office."
"Huh?"
"Mr. Sinclair is waiting for you."
Kylie was reluctant, but she obediently made her way to the elevator and headed up to Jonathan's office.
Michael was already waiting at the door. When he saw Kylie, he gave her a nod and gestured for her to go inside.
Every time Kylie had seen Michael before, it was either when he was taking her to the villa or dropping her off at home. This was the first time they had met so formally at the office.
She felt uneasy, but after nodding to Michael, she quickly walked into Jonathan's office.
Once she entered, Michael turned and closed the door behind her.
The room was quiet, with only Jonathan and Kylie present. Jonathan said nothing, and Kylie didn't dare make a sound. The silence was suffocating.
Behind his glasses, Jonathan's cold, detached gaze lingered on Kylie for a long moment. It was a while before he spoke.
"Not happy with your new position?"
His teasing tone made Kylie uncomfortable.
"Mr. Sinclair, I don't think I'm suited for this job. I'd like to request that you reconsider the transfer."
Jonathan's expression darkened, his displeasure evident.
"You don't want to be my executive assistant?"
"I just don't think I'm the right fit."
"I think you are."
Jonathan's voice was firm as he stood. Then, he walked around his large desk and moved to stand beside Kylie. He raised a hand and gently gripped her chin, speaking each word with emphasis.
"You've done well for the past three years. Being my executive assistant will be a piece of cake for you."
Jonathan's gaze was playful, his words laced with double meaning.
Though she had willingly allowed Jonathan to support her over the past three years, his words now made Kylie feel an unfamiliar sting of humiliation.
A faint blush spread across her face.
"Mr. Sinclair, I apologize for what happened at the nightclub. I hope you can show some understanding."
A mix of anger and frustration flashed across Kylie's face, but Jonathan simply smirked and said, "I told you, my woman will never be in a place like that."
As he spoke, Jonathan tightened his grip on Kylie's chin, forcing her face closer to his. The scent of his leather cologne flooded her senses, and her face flushed even deeper.
"I won't allow it," he said, each word deliberate, and his lips were just a breath away from hers. His long fingers traced her warm cheek, his touch sending a shiver through her.
Inside, Jonathan felt a strange surge of possessiveness. He deliberately teased and provoked Kylie. But she felt uncomfortable and found Jonathan's behavior repulsive.
From the nightclub to the office, all Kylie had sensed from him was disdain and humiliation. If he didn't love her, why wouldn't he just let her go? Perhaps this was just his domineering nature—his need to control.
"Mr. Sinclair, you already have a fiancee. Please let me go."
Kylie spoke with quiet defiance, her words causing Jonathan to pause.
He released her chin, not responding.
It seemed her guess had been right—his fiancee was a sore spot for him. Kylie's suspicion was confirmed by his reaction.
Suppressing the pain in her heart, she continued, "For the past three years, you've treated me as a stand-in for someone else. Now that she's back, it's understandable that you would discard me. But please, I'm begging you… just let me go."
Jonathan's face revealed no hint of emotion—neither joy, anger, nor sadness. He simply asked, "Stand-in? What are you talking about?"
"Mr. Sinclair, you don't need to worry about my feelings. I know you hate me. I won't bother you. But I need this job. I'll work hard and stay in my place. Please, don't force me to leave this way."
Tears welled up in Kylie's eyes, and her voice trembled as she spoke.
Jonathan was utterly confused by Kylie's words. What was she talking about—being a stand-in, him hating her, forcing her to leave?
All he had done was arrange for her to stay close to him, yet she was coming up with all these excuses to distance herself?
His expression darkened. He spoke with clear annoyance, "Kylie, my patience for you is limited. Staying by my side is your best option."
Kylie was stunned, her mouth opening as she tried to find something to say but couldn't.
"Were you thinking of leaving me for another sugar daddy? I'd advise against it. If you try that, your life will be miserable."
Jonathan gritted his teeth, his tone almost threatening as he gave her a warning.
"And don't even think about quitting. If you leave here, you'll be unemployed. No company in Jorundale will hire you."
At those words, all hope drained from Kylie.
Of course, Jonathan had the power to cut off all her options here. It felt like there was no way out for her.
She felt drained and exhausted. She turned her face away. Tears began to slip from the corner of her eye without her noticing.
"Why are you crying?"
Jonathan's cold voice cut through the silence as he reached up with his long, graceful fingers to wipe away her tears. He grasped her chin and turned her face toward him.
Before she could react, he leaned down and kissed her.
His lips were warm and soft, completely different from his usual forceful manner. This time, his kiss was gentle and tender.
Kylie shuddered, wanting to pull away. However, his large, warm hand slipped to her lower back, holding her in place.
Jonathan kissed her with intent, and Kylie felt a strange mix of emotions. One moment he was threatening her, and the next, he was tender and affectionate.
Was something wrong with him?
She tried to break free, but he only held her tighter.
With no strength left to fight, her lips instinctively responded to his.
Just then, a voice came from outside the door.
"Mr. Sinclair, Ms. Whitfield is here."
