Chapter 3：The Public Breakdown

Night began swallowing New York's skyline. Williams Building rose like a blade of black obsidian piercing the heavens, trampling the city's lights beneath its feet.

Caesar stood across the street, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips.

He squinted, watching like a lone wolf sizing up prey.

"Money-eating beast..." he muttered, exhaling a puff of white vapor. "Hard as hell, just like I thought."

The heavy glass doors slid open soundlessly. A wave of high-end fragrance mixed with central air conditioning washed over him. Caesar's entrance was like a drop of dirty oil falling into pure water.

The professional smiles on the two blonde receptionists' faces froze the instant they saw him.

One of them moved to block his path with practiced precision.

"Sir, can I help you?" Her voice was sweet, but the distance in her tone could freeze the air.

"Elizabeth. I'm here for her." Caesar's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a low, commanding force. "Her father sent me."

"I'm sorry, sir." The other receptionist immediately cut in, their coordination flawless. "Meetings with Ms. Elizabeth Williams require advance scheduling. If you don't have—"

Translation: Get lost.

Caesar's eyes flashed with impatience. His knuckles cracked softly.

Just as he was about to show these two decorative vases why "Satan" wasn't just a nickname, something in his peripheral vision caught his attention.

There, on the side wall of the lobby, a massive electronic display showed Elizabeth staring coldly down at the entire hall.

In the photo, she wore a silver evening gown, her gaze sharp as ice, red lips pressed tight—like the queen of the world.

Caesar's killing intent evaporated instantly. A playful smile tugged at his lips.

He pointed at the display, his voice just loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. "Her. Elizabeth. She's your boss?"

"Yes, that's our Chief Executive Officer, Ms. Elizabeth Williams." The receptionist's tone carried a hint of pride.

"Perfect." Caesar nodded.

The next second, his face flooded with boundless grief and indignation.

"Everyone!" He suddenly raised his voice, successfully drawing every eye in the lobby. "I'm not here to cause trouble!"

His acting was top-tier. Tears synchronized perfectly with his sobbing voice as he launched into his accusation. "That woman on the screen! Elizabeth! Three years ago, she promised me—promised!—that once I graduated, we'd get engaged! But now? She got bored and kicked me to the curb! Won't answer my calls, won't reply to my texts! I had nowhere else to go, so I came here to find her!"

The entire lobby fell deathly silent.

Everyone stared in shock, but instinctively, phones rose to capture the moment.

The two blonde receptionists looked like their jaws were about to hit the floor.

Top floor. Executive office.

Beyond the massive floor-to-ceiling windows lay the glittering panorama of Manhattan.

Elizabeth sat behind her desk, having just ended a call with her father. Her stunning face was covered in frost.

"...Get rid of him," she said, lifting a bone china coffee cup. Her tone was utterly flat.

Her secretary, Lisa Foster, looked like she was in physical pain. Clutching her tablet, her voice trembled. "Ms. Williams... we can't. The lobby downstairs... it's already out of control."

She turned the tablet toward Elizabeth. On the screen, Caesar was in the middle of his tearful "performance," surrounded by flashing lights.

"He also said..." Lisa swallowed hard. "If you don't see him, he'll contact the media immediately and expose every detail of how you 'used and abandoned a pure-hearted college boy,' including... including how many moles you have on your body and where."

Crash!

The expensive bone china cup slammed down on the desk. Coffee splashed out, staining the pristine white documents.

Elizabeth's frozen expression finally cracked.

Her chest heaved violently as she ground out each word from between clenched teeth:

"Bring. Him. Up."

Lisa spun around at top speed.

Down in the lobby, Caesar had become the absolute center of attention.

He was gesticulating wildly, delivering an impromptu speech to a crowd of Williams Group employees, his voice dripping with theatrical pathos:

"...And then, she looked deep into my eyes and said, 'Caesar, all the skyscrapers under my name aren't worth one ten-thousandth of the stars in your eyes!' Tell me—how could I not fall for that?"

The crowd erupted in laughter and jeers.

Lisa's icy presence scattered the noisy crowd. Wherever she walked, voices automatically dropped eight octaves. People parted respectfully. She stopped in front of Caesar, her voice cold. "You're Caesar?"

The grief on Caesar's face instantly switched to an amused grin. He lazily looked her up and down—this woman with her killer figure and sharp demeanor.

"And you are?" He deliberately dragged out the words. "Can't you see I'm busy... mm, reconnecting?"

Lisa's professional training kept her from exploding. She delivered her message expressionlessly. "Ms. Williams wants to see you."

Caesar shrugged, as if this was exactly what he'd expected. "What, she's finally willing to see her old flame?"

He stood up, deliberately dusting off his pants. Under a sea of complicated stares, he swaggered forward like he owned the place, his expression screaming arrogance.

"Lead the way."

Lisa's molars were about to shatter. In all her years of work, she'd never encountered such a shameless bastard.

Inside the elevator, the polished mirror reflected both their images.

Caesar leaned casually against the rail while Lisa stood ramrod straight, her face screaming "stay away."

Ding. Top floor.

"Ms. Williams is waiting inside." Lisa stood at the executive office door, her tone strictly business.

Caesar glanced at her, then jerked his chin toward the door.

"What are you standing there for?" He gave the order like it was obvious. "Open it."

Lisa's teeth ground together. She took a deep breath, forcing down her rage, and reluctantly pushed open the heavy door.

Caesar strode inside.

In the office, Elizabeth's beautiful face was dark as a storm cloud.

Seeing this, Caesar's mood brightened instantly. He didn't even look at Elizabeth. Instead, he turned to Lisa at the door and flashed her a toothy grin.

"Beautiful lady, could you bring me a pour-over coffee? Thanks."

Lisa reflexively looked at Elizabeth. After receiving a murderous glare that somehow counted as permission, she silently retreated and closed the door.

Caesar unceremoniously threw himself into the premium leather sofa in the reception area, crossing his legs, posture blatantly arrogant.

"Ms. Williams," he began in an operatic tone, "seeing you again is truly... refreshing."

Elizabeth's expression shifted through several shades before she forced out words from between her teeth. "You're a complete scoundrel."

Caesar threw his head back dramatically, as if he'd just received a compliment. "I thought you'd call me an irredeemable demon. 'Scoundrel?' As expected of a top student—even your insults are so restrained and elegant."

Elizabeth fought the urge to hurl the documents on her desk at his face. She reached for her coffee cup instead.

Before she could take a sip, Caesar suddenly stood, grabbed the cup she'd just touched from the coffee table in front of her, and took a large gulp.

Elizabeth's pupils contracted. She hurried to stop him. "That's my cup!"

"Mm, not bad." Caesar ignored her protest entirely. Instead, he wore an expression of deep appreciation, smacking his lips. "Panama Geisha, natural process. Looks like your taste is pretty close to mine."

He held her cup, looking directly at her. The provocation in his eyes made the air in the entire office solidify.