As I adjusted my uniform and stepped out from the CEO's office,

Valerie Wade was already sitting on the sofa, scrutinizing me from head to toe.

A colleague leaned in and whispered, "Ms. White, the Madam has been waiting to see the CEO for two hours."

I calmly fastened the last button and smiled, "Apologies, Madam, you know Mr. Shaw likes to take his time."

Without warning, she slapped me hard across the face and stormed into the office.

That day, rumors about Michael Shaw and me spread like wildfire.

As night fell, Valerie handed me a wad of cash with a smile.

I smiled faintly, thinking, "You are all just pawns; I choose to be the bait."

Valerie asked me, "The results are promising. How are things progressing?"

I shook my head and said I hadn't uncovered much yet. That was the reason why I agreed to carry on her plan to spread rumors about Michael and me.

The aim was to lure out Michael's real lover.

"Ms. Wade, are you really sure Mr. Shaw is hiding a woman secret love nest?"

I couldn't resist voicing my doubt.

I had been Michael Shaw's private assistant for three months now and I still hadn't uncovered a single lead.

"I’m sure," Valerie said through gritted teeth. "He often calls out someone's name at night, but I can't make it out."

"He also disappears regularly and no one knows where he goes. He has a photo album that no one is allowed to touch."

"Once, a servant accidentally knocked it over while cleaning. She was fired the next day and even had a finger broken."

I nodded silently, without saying a word.

After Valerie left, I took the cash and headed straight to the hospital.

I handed over the overdue medical fees, letting out a sigh of relief.

Aunt Bella lay peacefully in the hospital bed.

Three years ago, my fiancé Lucien Foster died in a car accident and Aunt Bella, his mother, witnessed everything from the roadside. That event instantly caused her to fell into a coma from a brain hemorrhage.

As I was holding her hand, I whispered, "Mama Bella, please wake up soon…."

At the office, Michael assigned tasks to me as usual.

"Discuss the contract with Mr. Zane, organize the weekend dinner with Javier Fernandez, the minister and ensure the finance department's data is finalized by the end of the month."

"Got it, Mr. Shaw."

I turned to leave, but he uncharacteristically stood up and walked towards me step by step.

Instinctively, I backed away until I was cornered against the wall. He planted his arms on either side of my head.

Michael leaned down, his breath warm against my face.

"And those rumors about us... they've been quite interesting lately," he said, each word bringing him closer until I had nowhere left to retreat.

"Mr. Shaw, should I... clear things up?" I asked, my head down, ears burning with embarrassment.

"No need," he murmured. "As long as you aren't troubled by them, Ms. White."

He brushed a strand of my hair aside and gently sniffed it. "I really like today's perfume."

I forcefully pushed his leaning body away. "Mr. Shaw, please respect yourself."

Michael laughed heartily. "Alright, alright. Clear my schedule for all of next Wednesday."

I quickly make a calculation—It would be April 15th next Wednesday. Valerie had said it was the day he disappears every year.

"Sure, Mr. Shaw. Anything specific you need me to arrange?"

"You don't need to know. Now get out."

Michael's mood was always unpredictable.

I stepped back and decided to follow him that day to see what was going on.

Contrary to what Valerie had said about it being impossible, I easily followed Michael to his destination: Endeavor Middle School.

It was the Middle school mentioned in his file and it was my Middle school too.

Michael just sat there on the playground, not moving for the entire day.

The school's principal and teachers took turns bringing him food and drinks, but he just smiled to decline them while remained quietly seated.

As night fell, he still showed no intention of leaving.

When I got bored and ready to head home, I suddenly received a message from Michael: [Since you've waited this long, let's have dinner together.]

At a shabby restaurant next to the school, the usually aloof Michael seemed surprisingly at ease.

He deftly poured wine and picked out dishes for me. When I didn't move, he looked at me leisurely, set down his chopsticks and asked, "What do you want to know?"

"Why did you come here? You canceled a big deal with the Fulton Corporation today," I asked, watching Michael with a keen eye.

He responded with a smile, taking a sip of his wine rather than offering an explanation.

Michael and Valerie's relationship was a business marriage. Despite Valerie's suspicions of his infidelity, she lacked concrete proof.

She had tearfully confided in me about her anguish, urging me to uncover the identity of his mysterious lover.

Since diving into this industry, I had ridden high on waves of success, hitting every mark without fail. But Michael... he's a mystery I couldn't crack.

He sipped wine after wine, his cheeks gradually flushing crimson.

"Ms. White, you remind me of someone I knew before," he said, his gaze piercing.

"And who would that be?" I asked.

He chuckled, handing me a glass of wine, urging me to take a sip.

Without a second thought, I gulped down the drink, my usual confidence in handling alcohol unwavering.

But the moment it coursed through me, my world turned fuzzy.

As Michael neared, the alarm bells in my mind rang relentelessly. I sensed something was off with the drink. Then, before I could grasp what was happening, consciousness slipped away.

In a daze, I heard someone whispering my name in my ear, "Haze, I love you."

As I woke up again, my head pounding, I found myself lying next to a man with his back exposed.

Michael!?

My mind raced and I quickly grabbed some clothes nearby, preparing to make a run for it.

At that moment, Michael stretched leisurely, rolled over and pinned me down.

"Mr. Shaw! What the hell are you doing?! Let me go!" I demanded, teeth clenched in frustration.

He pinned down my arms and legs, teasingly remarking, "Hazel, you weren't so resistant last night."

Before I could react, his lips pressed against mine.

Caught off guard and wide-eyed, I was at a loss for words when Valerie swung open the door and entered.

The tension in the room was palpable in that instant.

Valerie's voice lowered sharply, "What on earth are you two doing?"

Michael showed no signs of stopping. I bit down hard on his lip and he chuckled softly before letting me go.

"What are we doing? Can't Mrs. Shaw figure it out?" He pulled the blanket over my shoulders. "After all, as Ms. White pointed out, I have a knack for taking my time."

He emphasized my earlier nonsensical remarks deliberately.

Valerie stared at me, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Then, all at once, she exploded. Grabbing a glass, she hurled it straight at my head.

"You filthy whore! You'll sneak into anyone's bed, huh?! I'll gut you out!"

My forehead throbbed with pain as I clutched it, almost fleeing in sheer shock.

Meanwhile, Michael remained silent, not saying another word.

When I got home, little Marshie darted over with eager meows, rubbing against my legs.

Marshie was a stray cat that Lucien and I adopted during college.

Three years ago, the day before our engagement celebration, I lost both Lucien and my parents in one heartbreaking blow.

Over the past few years, I moved homes many times, but I could never bring myself to part with my cat. Marshie was one of the few reasons I held on in this world.

I held Marshie close as she gently licked my swollen forehead and tears streamed down my face.

Just then, a notification from Valerie on WeTalkApp had popped up:

"You have one more month. If there's no progress, I want all the money back!"

No! I couldn't live without money, not right now. Aunt Bella's ICU medical bills were too expensive.

I had to find Michael's mysterious lover.

My phone rang—it was Michael.

"Mr. Shaw, you called," I said, keeping my voice steady.

"Landon Mackinzie from Mackinzie Industries is coming this afternoon. Prepare the meeting materials."

"Yes, sir."

I reluctantly agreed. If I couldn't unearth any leads, I'd have to go along with the gossip.

After all, no woman could escape jealousy.

I slipped into a figure-hugging skirt and arrived at the meeting venue, steeling myself as I adjusted my collar and passed the documents to Michael. But he didn't spare me a glance, not even a single glance.

Instead, it was Mr. Mackinzie who sat beside Michael who groped my buttocks under the table.

I jerked away as if struck by electricity, shooting him a fierce glare. He smirked back, his expression wicked and rubbed his chin suggestively.

Michael clearly saw it all but remained eerily silent.

"Mr. Shaw, your secretary looks really stunning," Landon's oily voice interjected.

"Go and join Mr. Mackinzie for dinner tonight," Michael's words made me grit my teeth, but I held my tongue.

Leaning in close, he whispered in my ear, "Partnership with Mackinzie Industries is crucial. Play along at dinner and I'll give you the answers you seek."

“Yes, sir！”

The dinner hadn't even started yet when Michael sent over a dress for me—a stunning burgundy gown.

I got dressed, fixed my hair and makeup and arrived early at the private dining room to arrange the dishes and drinks.

Sure enough, the moment Landon walked in, he pulled me to sit next to him.

His lecherous eyes lingered on me. "Ms. White, you're quite charming! Are you married? Your husband must be a lucky man!"

As he placed his hand on my shoulder, a foul stench assaulted my nose.

Michael, sitting nearby, sipped his wine, showing no intention of helping me.

When Landon's hand started moving up my leg, I couldn't suppress the wave of nausea any longer and excused myself to the restroom.

When I returned, Landon was already a drunken mess.

By the end of the dinner, Landon still hadn’t agreed to sign the cooperation deal.

He and Michael, arms draped around each other, staggered out of the restaurant. I bundled both of them into the back seat of the car.

Just as I was about to get into the passenger seat, Michael suddenly spoke in a surprisingly clear voice, "Get out and wait outside."

Obediently, I closed the door and stood with the driver outside the car.

Almost immediately after we stepped out, Landon's wails filled the air and the car began to shake violently.

A few minutes later, Landon was tossed out, his body covered in bruises, his left arm clearly broken and hanging limply.

Before I could react, Michael grabbed him by the neck and whispered something in his ear. Landon nodded frantically, but for some reason, he couldn't utter a single word.

The driver handed over the contract and Landon, trembling, signed it.

"Get in the car," Michael ordered me.

Ignoring the battered Landon, the driver sped off.

We drove in silence until we stopped in front of a hotel.

"Get out," Michael commanded.

I looked at him, terrified, not knowing what he actually intended.