Chapter 45 Entanglement
"We're both single. What kind of relationship do you think we have, Ms. Brown?"
Francis didn't answer her question—he tossed it right back at her, his tone calm but faintly amused.
Jennifer felt her cheeks heat. "I'll go with whatever you say." She wanted them to be in a proper relationship, of course. But would her opinion even matter to him?
His mouth curved into a slow smile. "At formal events, I'll introduce you as my girlfriend. That way you won't have to deal with any more gossip. But in bed, you can be a little bolder. More like a mistress."
"You're impossible." She shot him a look and turned toward the window. In truth, she was grateful—he'd helped her deal with Eugene, saved her company from a crisis, and now he was willing to protect her reputation. But his flirting was so blunt, so shameless, she never knew how to respond.
Since they'd started living together, Francis had teased her relentlessly. There had been moments—heated, lingering—but something always interrupted before they crossed the final line. Sometimes she wondered if he was impotent. But the way he kissed her, the way his hands moved with practiced confidence, told her he was far from inexperienced.
While her thoughts wandered, Francis spoke again. "You mentioned looking for a job. Why the sudden urge to work?"
Jennifer tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm still young. I can't just stay home doing nothing all day. I want to get out, do something. But don't worry—if I get a job, I'll still take care of you." She didn't add the last part: Until you get tired of me. No need to ruin the moment.
"Alright." He tapped the steering wheel lightly. "Just wait until after the engagement party to start looking." A woman who stayed home all day could become dull. He didn't mind her having her own pursuits—his work kept him busy enough that he couldn't be with her all the time anyway.
Jennifer let out a quiet breath. She'd worried he might forbid it outright. The last time she'd gone out to tutor on weekends, he hadn't been thrilled.
While reviewing the guest list, Aria noticed Francis's plus-one. "Jennifer?" she said to Eugene, brows knitting. "I remember Declan chasing a woman with that name. Could it be the same person?"
Eugene's fingers tightened around the paper, veins standing out. Seeing Jennifer's name next to Francis's made something ugly twist in his chest. He forced a neutral tone. "Who knows? We'll see when they arrive."
Aria didn't think twice, turning back to her work. Seating arrangements had to be perfect—status and connections mattered. Eugene's list was short, so he finished quickly. He glanced at his watch, voice edged with urgency. "Aria, I just remembered I have some materials I haven't finished."
She pouted. "Our engagement party is in two days, and you still have so much work?"
He pulled her close, kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry, my dear fiancée. It was precisely to keep that day free that I absolutely can't afford to make a mistake now."
"Fine." She tugged his tie playfully, biting his chin. "Go work. I'll handle the rest."
Eugene didn't go to the office. He didn't go home. Instead, he drove to Jennifer's building and parked outside, waiting. He told himself he just wanted to see her, to ask if she'd really let go of what they had.
He waited until the sky turned dark. She never appeared. Cigarette butts littered the ground by his car. Finally, he drove away, feeling hollow.
The next morning, he took a detour past Francis's apartment, just on a whim. To his surprise, Francis's car was parked at the curb—and Jennifer jogged up, handing him a stack of documents.
No makeup. Hair messy. Still in pajamas with a coat thrown over. She looked like she'd just rolled out of bed. Francis took the papers, said something, then pulled her into a hug before getting in his car.
The way she watched him drive off… soft, almost tender.
She was living with him.
Eugene slammed his car door and strode over. Jennifer turned to head inside, but he caught her wrist, his voice low and dangerous. "How long have you even known him? And you're already living together? Where's your self-respect?"
He saw the slippers on her feet, the pajama hem peeking from under her coat. It painted a picture he didn't want in his head—one that made his blood boil.
Jennifer's brows drew tight. "Eugene, this is none of your business. Let go." She tried to pull free.
"No. I won't. Jennifer, I've realized I still can't forget you. When I see you in his arms, my chest hurts. Can you really forget what we had?" His voice cracked with emotion as he tried to pull her closer.
"Are you insane?!" Her fear spiked. In a burst of panic, she swung her free hand hard across his cheek. The sharp crack echoed in the morning air.
Eugene froze, stunned, his grip loosening. He touched his face in disbelief. "You hit me?" The sting was sharp, almost shocking.
In three years, she'd never struck anyone—not even when he'd put David in the hospital and destroyed her company. Back then she'd only cried, begged.
Now this was different.
Jennifer's palm throbbed. She shook it out and said, voice steady, "Stop harassing me, or I'll call the police. You're getting engaged tomorrow—you really want to spend the day at the station?"
Eugene stared at her like she was a stranger. "You've changed. Fine. You're ruthless."
In his mind, he wasn't the one who'd cheated first or moved on—it was her, clinging to Francis and cutting him off. No wonder Francis had stood up for her. They were already living together.
Before he left, he couldn't resist one last jab. "Jennifer, even if Francis defends you now, it doesn't mean he cares. You don't actually think he'll marry you, do you?"
Her smile was cold. "Do you think I'm like you—chasing a bank account? No. I'm not that greedy."
He stepped back, stung. "If he doesn't plan to marry you, you're fine being used? Then why not me? What makes him better than me?"
She laughed, the sound short and sharp. "Looks. Career. Family. Character. Which of those can you compete with?"
A breeze cut through the street. She sneezed, pulled her coat tighter, and walked inside without looking back.
Eugene didn't follow. He stood there, jaw tight, muttering under his breath as the door closed behind her.