Chapter 4 The Hidden Corner
So Zachary had been meeting Alicia that night.
The realization left Quinley momentarily stunned.
Time slipped through her fingers like fine sand, completely lost to her. She sat motionless at her computer, allowing emotion to overwhelm her—something she rarely permitted herself.
Her heart was in turmoil, filled with feelings she couldn't name: constriction, pain, suffocation...
Just like last night, when Zachary had offered no response to her words.
Only as the workday neared its end did Quinley snap back to reality. Who Zachary married had never been her concern.
The gulf between them had been predetermined before they even met.
The Jennings family was illustrious, naturally seeking a suitable socialite as a bride. Alicia perfectly matched all criteria.
With the powerful Davis family behind her—her eldest brother Jeremy a key political figure, her second brother Harold a business leader—the Davises were as formidable as the Jenningses.
When elite families intermarried, it was about mutual benefit.
By marrying Alicia, Zachary would secure the Davis family's powerful support—a winning choice for both the Jennings family and Zachary personally.
Quinley, by contrast, came from poverty—a sickly father, an unemployed mother, and a brother still in school.
She should be grateful for three years as Zachary's companion. How could she ever have dreamed of becoming his wife?
He was beyond her reach. It wasn't her place to worry about such things.
That afternoon, with Zachary away from the office, Quinley focused entirely on the briefings.
She barely noticed when day turned to night. Only when her neck grew stiff and painful did she realize it was already past midnight.
Working efficiently as always, she had completed nearly a year's worth of the five-year briefings. At this rate, she could meet Zachary's deadline.
Though exhausted, she didn't sleep. Instead, she pushed through another sleepless night.
When Zachary arrived early the next morning, he noticed the light still on in Quinley's office.
Without knocking, he turned the handle and found her hunched over her computer, disheveled and pale.
"You didn't go home?" he asked casually.
"No," she answered, her voice hoarse.
Zachary pressed his lips together, seeming about to speak, then changed his mind. He slammed the door as he left, the sound echoing down the corridor.
Quinley didn't look up. She simply continued working.
By noon, she had completed three years of briefings when Lily came to invite her to lunch.
"Could you bring me something instead?" she asked, unwilling to pause.
Lily returned with food that Quinley devoured ravenously. It wasn't that she hadn't felt hunger—she simply hadn't had time to eat.
Sylvia had given her orders, and she had no reason to disobey. If Zachary was using this task to delay her departure, it wouldn't work as an excuse for her to linger.
Some words, once spoken, couldn't be taken back. Staying any longer would only be awkward.
Through determined effort, she finished all the briefings before the end of the workday. This was her style—always leaving herself a margin of safety.
Just as Zachary was preparing to leave, Quinley entered with the printed reports.
"Mr. Jennings, the briefings are complete for your review."
Meticulous as always, she arranged them chronologically on his desk.
Zachary's gaze swept briefly over the papers before settling on Quinley. Like him, she was a workaholic who pushed herself relentlessly through sleepless nights.
"So eager to leave?" He pulled out his chair and sat heavily, taking out a cigarette and lighting it with a sharp flick of his lighter. He inhaled deeply.
Through the swirling smoke, Quinley couldn't see his eyes clearly, but she sensed his anger intensifying.
She remained calm, pretending not to notice. With a bright smile, she said, "An early departure is better for everyone."
"For whom?" Zachary's voice was cutting.
For whom? Wasn't it obvious?
"Regarding the work handover, Mr. Jennings, please rest assured I'll arrange everything promptly."
In her characteristic way, she was reaffirming her decision. She might appear gentle as water, but once determined, no one could change her mind.
Zachary said nothing, just examined her through narrowed eyes. His gaze was scorching, making her feel exposed despite her outwardly calm demeanor.
"Mr. Jennings, thank you for your guidance these past three years."
Quinley bowed to him, then raised her head, avoiding his eyes as she walked toward the door.
This split seemed entirely her unilateral decision.
His cigarette burned down completely, but Zachary didn't light another.
He had always believed he understood Quinley thoroughly—as a secretary, she was professional and obedient; as a companion, she was intelligent and perceptive.
Yet now he suddenly realized there were many hidden corners of her he had never explored.
An indefinable feeling began to grow like wild grass in his heart.
No sooner had Quinley left than Zachary received a call from Sylvia.
"Alicia has arrived. When will you be here?"
A dinner had been arranged by Sylvia at The Ivy Manor.
"On my way."
After hanging up, Zachary departed.
Meanwhile, Quinley was just exiting the Apex Global Group Building with a box of her belongings.
For three years, she had appeared glamorous to outsiders, but only she knew how precarious each day had felt.
Zachary was difficult to please. Being his favorite, wrapped around his finger, required tremendous effort. Fortunately, she had managed well.
With Sylvia, she had needed to demonstrate loyalty, controllability, and compliance—no easy feat either. But now, it was all over.
She turned to look back at the Apex Global Group Building one last time.
It felt like a dream—she couldn't tell if it had been a nightmare or a beautiful one, couldn't distinguish between reluctance to leave and relief at escaping. Her feelings were decidedly complex.
Just as Quinley entered a taxi, her mother Marlee Elikin called.
"Quinny, your father came home today. We're all waiting for you to start dinner. When will you be back?"
Quinley's father, Colin Elikin, had been living in a care facility, paid for by Sylvia. He was discharged today, and Quinley should have picked him up, but she had been too busy.
"Mom, go ahead and eat. I just left the office—I'll be home soon."
After hanging up, Quinley exhaled deeply.
Three years ago, Colin had collapsed at his teaching podium. Hospital tests revealed kidney failure in both organs. Doctors recommended a transplant to save his life.
Quinley had just graduated from college and wasn't employed. The transplant required a large sum she couldn't provide. Death seemed Colin's only option.
At Quinley's most desperate moment, Sylvia had approached her. She provided a substantial amount of money to address the emergency and arranged for Quinley to join Apex Global Group.
Of course, she also set conditions: Quinley had to become Zachary's lover within a month.
At twenty-two, Quinley had never even dated, but she agreed.
Later, she discovered why Sylvia had gone to such lengths to bring her close to Zachary—she resembled his first love.
Being a pawn or a substitute was essentially the same thing: acting a part.
Quinley proved an exceptionally talented actress, maintaining the charade for three years without faltering.
Within a month of becoming Zachary's secretary, she had spent the night at his private villa. Sylvia was pleased with her performance and specifically hired renowned foreign specialists to treat Colin.
While most people waited at least five years for a kidney match, Colin found a suitable donor just one year after diagnosis. The surgery had been successful.
For the past two years, he had been recovering at the care facility, his health nearly restored to normal. So despite Sylvia's manipulation, Quinley felt profound gratitude.
After all, Sylvia had given her the opportunity to repay the debt of her father's nurturing care.
As for her relationship with Zachary, Quinley understood that dwelling on it was futile.
In the taxi, Quinley scrolled through her social media feed. Alicia had just posted an update:
[To have and to hold, from this day forward.]
The accompanying photo showed two intertwined hands. Quinley noticed an enormous pink diamond on Alicia's ring finger.
Zachary had given her many gifts—expensive, unique ones—but never a ring. Rings held special significance. She wasn't worthy of one.
She gave a bitter smile and closed Facebook.
At that exact moment, her phone rang.
It was Alicia calling.