Chapter2

"Married?" He looked as if he had heard a hilarious joke, the corners of his mouth curling into a mocking sneer. "Who in all of Manhattan would have the guts to touch a woman labeled by me, Asher Sterling?"

Before I even opened my mouth, that piercing mechanical voice exploded in my mind: [System Alert: Warning! Target character Asher has entered a severe state of denial. Host, please note: Female lead Chloe possesses the invincible "Innocent White Flower" plot armor. As long as you refuse to compromise according to the storyline, you will be subjected to an electrocution punishment.]

I stared at the floating, flashing text in my head, my face completely expressionless. Electrocution punishment?

Asher took a bold step closer. "Wrap this up if you've had enough of your little tantrum. It's been three years; you should have gotten all of that temper out of your system by now." He switched back to his usual condescending tone. "Without my endorsement, that resume of yours is nothing but a scrap of paper on Wall Street. Top-tier firms won't even grant you an interview. Do you honestly believe you can survive in this circle without me?"

My jaw clenched.

Three years ago, I was the one who led my team and fought tooth and nail to secure the Sterling family's merger of the century. Yet, the night before the victory banquet, Chloe took my proposal and sat crying in Asher's office. She claimed she came from nothing, that she couldn't take a single step forward in this industry without help. And Asher, my fiancé at the time, signed Chloe's name in the project lead column right in front of everyone.

"She needs this addition to her resume to establish a foothold much more than you do," I still remembered his utterly self-righteous gaze. "You were born with everything. What's the harm in letting her take the credit?"

I did not cry that day. I simply walked away.

The mechanical crackle of static pierced my brain once again: [Plot point triggered! Host, please step forward immediately and slap the male lead across the face! Loudly demand why he would treat you this way! Display the indignation and despair of a villainess! Hurry!]

My hand did twitch. Asher sharply caught the subtle movement.

"What? You want to hit me?" He stared right into my eyes. "Do it. Throw a princess tantrum just like you used to. And when you're done acting out, pack your things and move back into my penthouse like a good girl tomorrow."

Hit him? I was certainly not about to dirty my own hands on an egomaniac like him.

I reached for the panic button hidden on the edge of the carved console table in the entryway. The mechanical voice in my head began to squawk shrilly: [Warning! Warning! High-risk behavior detected—]

I did not wait for it to finish before I pressed it firmly down.

"What are you doing?" Asher frowned.

In less than ten seconds, heavy footsteps echoed from outside the door. Two bodyguards dressed in black suits stepped into the foyer. Marcus, the one in the lead, locked his eyes strictly on Asher.

"Madam." Marcus bowed his head respectfully, awaiting orders.

"This man is trespassing." I looked at Asher's stunned face. "Throw him out."

Asher's eyes immediately widened in absolute disbelief. "Sienna! Are you out of your mind? I am Asher Ster—"

Without a single word, Marcus stepped forward. He grabbed Asher by the back collar of his custom-tailored suit with one hand and clamped his other hand firmly onto Asher's expensive leather belt. The second bodyguard simultaneously pinned Asher's arms to his sides.

"Let go of me! Get lost! Don't touch me!" Asher struggled frantically, but he was effortlessly hoisted right off the rug by the two massive bodyguards and dragged backward straight out the front door.

Thud.

Marcus unceremoniously hurled him onto the concrete driveway outside. Asher tumbled awkwardly down the front steps, rolling a half-circle before he scrambled back to his feet in a totally disheveled state.

"Even your insanity should have a limit!" Asher pointed at my front door, his voice pitching high with fury. "Didn't you put on this whole act just to make me remember you? Fine, you succeeded! I will have my assistant send the engagement necklace over tomorrow morning. You had better know when to stop!"

I stood at the top of the stairs, looking down coldly at this moron who lived entirely in his own delusional script.

"Marcus."

"Yes, Madam."

"The next time he dares to step onto this property..."

"Understood," Marcus nodded without hesitation.

"...break his legs on the spot. Bill the medical expenses to my account."

I did not spare the man another sweeping glance and slammed the heavy door shut right in his face.

The wrought-iron gate let out a dull, heavy echo. The cursing from outside was instantly severed. The foyer descended into total silence, leaving only the steady, peaceful sound of my daughter's breathing drifting from the nursery.

I leaned against the heavy wood of the door and closed my eyes for a moment. Inside my brain, the mechanical voice let out a fizzing static sound, like a disconnected power line—it was no longer shrieking.

I actually thought that would be the end of it.

But the very next morning, his assistant really did deliver the engagement necklace.