I stared right into Julian's eyes and demanded, "But what if I insist on becoming the vice president? Will you make it happen?"

Whenever he stared at someone with a stoic expression, he looked intimidating. After years in the business world, he was no longer the naive young man in his 20s—nor the one who swore to build a future with me.

I looked away and let out a self-deprecating smile.

Julian lit a cigarette with a soft snap of his lighter, the knot between his brows resembling someone dealing with a tough client. As he puffed on his cigarette, his patience seemed to be running thin.

"Noelle, don't make this difficult for me," he ground out.

I froze and gawked at him. "Julian, you're one to talk. I'm already 30 this year, and we've been together for ten years. You know the vice president position isn't the issue here."

Ten years ago, Julian was nothing but a penniless young man.

My parents strongly disapproved of our relationship, but back then, we were too inseparable to be torn apart. The more they tried to keep us apart, the more defiant we became.

Left with no choice, Dad gave Julian 300,000 dollars to start his business. He and Mom promised they would no longer interfere with our relationship if Julian still treated me the same after becoming successful.

But he was given only ten years. If he failed or showed even the slightest change of heart after ten years, I'd have to obey my parents and marry someone else.

Julian blew out a stream of smoke and stubbed out the cigarette.

"Noelle, we're like family now," he said flatly. "There's no need to cling to a piece of paper. As for your parents—they'll come around eventually.

"But Zoey's different. She needs this position. So stop making a fuss and behave. That's final."

With that, he strode out, clearly frustrated by our exchange.

His steps faltered for a moment at the door. After hesitating for a few seconds, he said, "By the way, Zoey needs an office, so you have to move out.

"You should also prepare for her welcome party. As the company's vice president, she deserves a proper ceremony. Don't let anyone look down on her. You've been around for years, so the others will definitely accept your invitation.

"Noelle, I trust you to separate work and personal matters. You know what to do, right?"

The office door slammed shut.

As I slumped into my chair, my gaze fell on the photo frame on the desk.

It was a picture of Julian and me. He was beaming at the camera, his appearance miles away from the cold, heartless man he was now.

I reached out and turned the photo frame face down. Then I got up and headed to the HR department.

The HR manager, Winnie Lane, gaped at me.

"Ms. Jones, are you resigning?"

I nodded.

"Um… Ms. Jones, your resignation has to be approved by Mr. Grant. H-he mentioned it when he came by earlier," Winnie stammered.

I was stunned. Well, after ten years together, he clearly knew me well enough—I was never a tolerant woman.

Getting my resignation approved wouldn't be easy, and sure enough, my first attempt was rejected.

As soon as I stepped out of the elevator, I noticed a crowd gathered outside my office. They were all Julian's assistants and secretaries.

The moment they saw me, they immediately parted to let me through.

My office was a complete mess.

Zoey was lounging comfortably in my chair, casually directing the janitors as they sifted through my belongings.

"Throw away that photo frame and those books on the shelf.

"Actually, forget it. I hate everything here. Just toss it all out, and make sure there's not a speck of dust left. It smells awful now."

She wrinkled her nose in disgust and waved a hand in front of her face, as if there really was some unbearable stench. Then she glanced toward the door and spotted me.

"Ms. Jones, you're back!" she exclaimed, springing to her feet. "I was just having the office cleaned up for you.

"I figured there wasn't anything important, so I didn't leave anything behind. Thoughtful of me, right?

"Oh, and Ms. Jones, I might need your help with work from now on. I'm still young, so I need to focus on more important things. If anything goes wrong, I'll be counting on you!"

Zoey clung to my arm, squeezing it as if we were close friends. But I could clearly see the taunting look in her eyes.

I withdrew my hand and dismissed everyone else. Now, only Zoey and I were left in my office.

As soon as everyone was gone, she immediately pulled her hand back and grumbled, "Ugh, you reek like an old woman."

The moment her words fell, she clasped her hand to her mouth. Her gaze darted around wildly, feigning fear as she whimpered, "Ms. Jones, I didn't mean it that way! It's all Mr. Grant's fault… He's been saying that all the time, and I couldn't help it. You'll forgive me, right?"

Malice flared in her eyes—she didn't look the slightest bit sorry.

Seeing I was unfazed, Zoey pushed further. She slipped one side of her shoulder out of her shirt, revealing several hickeys as she continued smugly, "Ms. Jones, look how shameless Mr. Grant is. He totally wore me out. I'll have to cover these up for the entire week!

"I really envy you. You can wear whatever you want—unlike me. If I so much as show my shoulder, Mr. Grant gets jealous. When we went to the hot spring last time, he wrapped me up in a towel like a burrito whenever someone passed by.

"Why is he so petty, huh?"

I spotted the broken photo frame on the floor.

"Well, you're his latest pet," I replied nonchalantly. "Of course he's going to be a little possessive."

Zoey's expression changed. She glowered at me, but I flashed her an unbothered smile.

After all, I was more than familiar with the version of Julian she described. So no matter how much she bragged, it didn't faze me.

I was zoning out and didn't notice the sudden shift in her expression.

Zoey suddenly grabbed my hand—and in the next instant, she threw herself backward, crashing hard to the ground.

Before I could react, a furious voice sounded behind me.

"Noelle, what the hell are you doing?"

Someone whizzed past me, shoving me hard on the shoulder. I barely managed to steady myself by grabbing the edge of the table.

Julian helped Zoey up and shot me a scathing glare.

"Apologize to her," he ordered.

My knuckles turned white as my grip on the table tightened.

"I didn't push her."

Julian snorted. "Sure, you didn't. As if I'd believe she threw herself on the floor for fun! You're 30, yet you're still pulling these petulant stunts. Don't you feel pathetic?"

A sting hit my nose, and my eyes reddened. Why did he have to keep reminding me of my age?

Did he think I was too old for him now and preferred someone younger? Then why wouldn't he just break up with me?

Resentment flared in my eyes as I clenched my jaw, refusing to appear weak in front of him.

A smirk crossed Zoey's face. Buried in Julian's arms, she sniffled and said, "Mr. Grant, please don't blame Ms. Jones. That VP spot was supposed to be hers. It makes sense that she hates me.

"Maybe I should just leave the company."

Julian tightened his hold around her and said coldly, "This company isn't under the Jones family. Without my permission, no one can make you leave. I won't tolerate anyone targeting you, either."

His implication was clearly directed at me.

I scoffed and shot back, "Then why don't you fire me instead?"

With a loud smack, my face jerked to the side. A searing pain bloomed across my cheek.

The room fell dead silent.

I raised my hand slowly and touched my left cheek, staring at Julian in disbelief. This was the first time he had ever hit me in ten years—and it was for his new fling.

He stared at his own hand, clearly dumbfounded. His palm tingled, and his entire hand was trembling uncontrollably as he gawked at me.

When Julian saw the swelling on my face, he extended his hand toward me and began, "Noelle…"

I stepped back, dodging his hand.

He froze.

Just then, Zoey cried out and collapsed into his arms. "Mr. Grant, I think I twisted my ankle. It hurts so much!"

That snapped him out of it. He scooped her up in his arms and rushed out.

I closed my eyes. Right then, my phone buzzed.

Seeing the message, I took a deep breath and left the company. As soon as I got home, I packed up all my things. I didn't even leave behind a speck of dust.

When I tossed the last bag into the trash, my phone started buzzing nonstop.

"Ms. Jones, does your face still hurt? Mr. Grant's always this rough—he makes me so sore every single time. Make sure you ice it.

"But I have to say, the way he massages my feet is still quite gentle…"

Zoey sent me a photo of Julian massaging her foot. From the knot between his brows, it was clear he was genuinely concerned about her.

As I began typing on my keyboard, she sent another message.

"By the way, Ms. Jones, thanks for preparing my welcome party. I love your office as well!

"You're coming to my party, right? If not, it'll be such a shame for you to miss the surprise Mr. Grant prepared for me.

"Or… is it because you can't bear to see how much he's smitten with me?"

My fingers stilled. I turned off the screen, then I went to the party with my resignation letter in hand.

The moment I showed up, the room, which had been loud just seconds earlier, immediately fell silent.

My colleagues exchanged glances, then all turned their eyes toward the couple in the center of the private room.

Julian was downing a glass in one gulp, his expression unreadable. His gaze flicked toward me for a brief moment before he looked away. Zoey was leaning against him, her leg in a cast.

Flashing me a triumphant smirk, she said, "Ms. Jones, you're finally here. Come, have a seat.

"My foot's injured, so I can't drink. Poor Mr. Grant had to drink for me instead."

She was wearing a custom-made gown, with a string of pale pink pearls adorning her neck. I recognized that dress—it was one I'd once seen in a photo on Julian's phone.

Back then, I foolishly thought he was planning it as a birthday gift for me. Looking back now, I doubt he even remembered today was my birthday.

Ignoring the strange looks from my coworkers, I walked toward Julian with a file in hand.

"There's an urgent document that needs to be signed as soon as possible. Can you sign it first?"

Zoey covered her mouth and giggled. "Ms. Jones, you really don't know how to let loose, do you? To think you brought work to a party!"

I ignored her sarcastic remark and fixed my gaze on Julian instead.

He glanced at the file, his voice softening slightly as he replied, "Let's not talk about work tonight."

"It's urgent," I insisted, leaving no room for negotiation.

Only then did he finally meet my gaze.

As we reached an impasse, Zoey chimed in, "Mr. Grant, maybe you should take a look. Ms. Jones won't be able to relax until you do."

A few seconds later, Julian took the file. After confirming it was nothing more than a document, he signed it promptly.

A smug grin crossed Zoey's face as she tossed the file back into my arms.

"Ms. Jones, Mr. Grant always said you're a strong, capable woman. Looks like your reputation holds up. Maybe I should become your apprentice… You could teach me a thing or two."

I glanced at the signed resignation letter and sneered. "I wouldn't dare take you as my apprentice. I'm afraid Mr. Grant would be too distressed."

Julian frowned and shot me a cold look. Suddenly, he rose and strode out of the private room.

The tension in the air thickened, but I didn't care.

I handed the resignation letter to Winnie and finalized the paperwork on the spot. Then, under the curious stares of my coworkers, I walked out without looking back.

Just as I stepped out of the bar, Winnie sent me a video.

"Ms. Jones, Zoey must've lost her damn mind."

In the video, Zoey had her arms around Julian's neck and was kissing him right in front of everyone as they cheered them on. The kiss lasted only three seconds, but that was enough to ignite the whole room.

"Ms. Jones, what does Mr. Grant even see in her?" Winnie continued, unable to stop ranting. "She's got no skills or connections at all. Making her the vice president is an absolute joke!

"I'm seriously worried about the company's future."

While I comforted her, I recalled how Julian had always been measured in everything aside from his defiant side when he swore to marry no one but me.

We'd been together for ten years. I thought time had made him more rational, but Zoey's attitude made it clear to me that I was no longer the one who could stir anything in him.

I left the company group chat, sent Julian a breakup text, then blocked him everywhere.

Just then, a black Maybach pulled over to the roadside. The window rolled down, revealing a familiar face.

"Get in."