Chapter 19

Yanny emerged from the building and immediately pulled out her phone to hail a ride. She stood waiting in the cold wind for what felt like an eternity before a car finally pulled up to the curb to accept her fare.

Shivering, she yanked the door open and slid inside. The warmth of the car's interior felt like a resurrection, and she leaned back against the seat, taking deep, shuddering breaths.

The vehicle moved at a steady pace through the city, and by the time she arrived home, the clock on her dashboard read eleven on the dot.

After changing her shoes in the entryway, Yanny rushed through a quick wash-up before heading straight for the study and turning on her computer.

She had just poured herself a glass of water and settled in front of the screen when a violent coughing fit seized her.

The metallic taste of blood welled up in her throat, the symptom growing more intense with each wracking cough.

Ignoring it, she clicked open her email, determined to finish the work she had left undone from the day before.

By the time she finished organizing the manuscripts, the night had bled into the early hours of the morning.

Yanny yawned repeatedly, her face pale and gaunt, a sight that would have been unsettling to any observer.

In the dead of night, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the quiet apartment. Ethan was home.

He swapped his shoes for slippers and stepped inside, his brow furrowing instinctively when he noticed the light still on in the study.

He pushed the door open and walked straight in. The sight of Yanny slumped over her desk, looking utterly exhausted, did nothing to stir his sympathy. His gaze fell upon the pallor of her profile, and instead of pity, a deeper wave of annoyance washed over him.

"Yanny, I believe I told you to drop the act," Ethan said, his voice laced with cold sarcasm. He glanced at her once more before turning to leave the room.

Yanny calmly closed her laptop, her own voice eerily steady. "Don't worry," she replied. "I won't let this delay the collaboration project."

The sheer audacity of it. He had already seen through her charade, yet here she was, still pretending to be the diligent professional. It was laughable.

If she didn't care about her own body, why should he?

Ethan's fists clenched at his sides. There was something about her fragile appearance that he found intensely irritating.

He slammed the door behind him, the sound cracking through the stillness.

Silence returned to the study. Yanny let out a long, slow breath, finally relaxing the fist she hadn't realized she'd been clenching.

Crescent-shaped marks, red and raw, bloomed across her palm where her nails had dug into the flesh.

Her eyes reddened instantly. Thinking of Ethan's actions at the banquet sent a fresh chill through her, a cold that had nothing to do with the late hour.

Ethan had never loved her, so how could he possibly feel any concern for her?

Even if he saw her on the brink of death, he probably wouldn't bat an eye.

A coldness settled over Yanny's features, hardening her gaze. The pressure behind her eyes became unbearable, a stinging ache that finally gave way to tears.

She lay her head down on the desk, letting the silent tears soak into her hair, and slowly closed her eyes, drifting into an exhausted sleep.

When she woke again, it was three in the morning. Yanny dragged herself to bed but spent the rest of the night staring into the darkness. When she finally rose, her entire body ached. It took a long moment of just sitting on the edge of the mattress before she could summon the strength to stand.

She went through her morning routine, applying layers of makeup to mask the sickly pallor of her skin. When she entered the living room, she was relieved to find that Ethan was gone.

That relief, however, was short-lived. In the dining room, a prepared breakfast was laid out on the table. Her brow furrowed slightly.

'Did Ethan make this?'

Her gaze dropped. It was more likely, she thought, that these were just his leftovers.

In the end, she didn't touch it. She poured herself a glass of oat milk, drank it quickly, and left for the day.

She arrived at the office just after the official start time. As she walked toward her own office, she saw Ethan through the glass partition of his office, flipping through a file. He then turned and disappeared from her line of sight.

Inside his office, Ethan had already noticed her arrival. A flicker of impatience crossed his face.

He recalled her pallid complexion from the night before and considered the possibility that it might provoke questions from Cleo, which would be a nuisance.

His concern wasn't for Yanny herself, but for the potential complications. He didn't want to give anyone a reason to talk.

He picked up his desk phone and made a call to Ace.

A moment later, Ace knocked and entered. "Mr. Smith," he said, walking to the desk. "You wanted to see me?"

"Take these supplements to Ms. Spencer's office."

When Ace simply stood there, momentarily confused, Ethan's brow tightened. "What are you waiting for?"

The sharpness in his tone snapped Ace to attention. "Yes, sir. Right away."

He quickly gathered the bags of expensive supplements from the floor and headed out, making a direct line for Yanny's office.

The sight drew curious glances from other employees, but no one dared to ask.

Yanny was at the printer, collating documents, when a knock sounded on her door. "Come in," she called out softly.

Ace pushed the door open gently and placed the collection of supplements on the floor just inside. "Ms. Spencer, Mr. Smith asked me to give these to you."

Ethan?

Yanny stopped what she was doing. She walked over and stared down at the bags, her expression darkening.

What was this supposed to mean? Was it charity? Or was it another form of humiliation?

She stared at the supplements for a few seconds, then took a deep breath. "I don't need them. Take them back. Tell him I'm not lacking for anything."

If only these material things were what she truly wanted.

Then everything would be so much simpler.

But all she had ever wanted was his love. Now, even that didn't seem to matter anymore.

If she had never possessed it, she could no longer care about whether she would have it in the future.

Ace felt a bead of sweat form on his brow. "But, Ms. Spencer," he began, his voice hesitant, "this is a gesture of goodwill from Mr. Smith. You should probably accept it."

"I won't accept it. Take them away," Yanny responded icily, turning her back on him and returning to her work at the printer.

Frozen in place, Ace felt a wave of helplessness. With no other choice, he picked up the supplements and trudged back to Ethan's office.

"Mr. Smith," he reported, "Ms. Spencer said she won't accept them. She said she doesn't need them."

Ace recounted the event faithfully, a chill running down his spine as he watched Ethan's face grow progressively darker.

"She won't accept them?" Ethan let out a cold laugh. He was convinced she was just putting on an act. "Get out!" He snarled at Ace.

It wasn't long ago that she would look thunderstruck with gratitude if he so much as poured her a glass of water. And now she dared to publicly embarrass him in front of his employees?

Even though his only motive had been to avoid trouble, her rejection ignited an unfamiliar and potent frustration within him.

Ethan rubbed his temples, his mood plummeting. What on earth was she being so difficult about?

He had made the first move, a clear gesture of goodwill. What more could she possibly want?

He let out another derisive scoff. She was just playing the part of the noble, wronged woman. He was sure of it. She was plotting something again.

Ace retreated silently. The moment he was gone, Maisie stepped into the office.

"Ethan, I thought I heard you had Ace send something to Ms. Spencer. Did she…" Maisie began, her voice dripping with false concern.

Her eyes landed on the rejected supplements by the desk, and the corner of her lip curled into a triumphant smirk.

"Did Ms. Spencer not accept them?" She asked, feigning surprise. "What a shame. All your kindness, and she didn't even appreciate it." Maisie sighed dramatically as she glided to his side.

Ethan's expression was glacial. He had no desire to discuss the matter further. "Let's not talk about her. What did you want to say?"