When it came to education, Lilith was an Ivy League graduate. In terms of capability, she was undoubtedly the strongest among them. As for experience, she had been in the position the longest.

"Why not give it a try? Maybe I’ll get lucky," Stella thought. She quickly filled out the application form and handed it to the supervisor.

The supervisor told her that they would have a group interview once Damian arrived.

When Stella returned to the office, Lilith gave her a sly smile. "Stella, you signed up too?"

"Yes," Stella replied.

This was something everyone would know about eventually, so there was no need to hide it.

"I admire your guts. An art student with the nerve to compete for a position that isn’t a fit for your major," Lilith sneered. "Do you even know how to use Excel? Haha..."

The office erupted in laughter.

Stella was the only one in the office who had graduated from an art school, scoring just 1000 on the SAT. Everyone else in the office had perfect SAT scores and had graduated from prestigious universities.

"Are you planning to seduce Mr. Clark with that face of yours?"

Stella didn’t bother to respond. She knew she didn’t have much to stand on.

In this office, she was indeed less competent than Lilith. Over the past year, she had been working hard to improve.

Stella forced herself to learn Word, Excel, how to draft speeches, and how to create presentations.

Seeing that Stella didn’t respond, Lilith lost interest. Confident that Stella wasn’t a threat, she dropped the subject.

That evening, when Stella returned home from work, she was startled to find her new husband sitting on the sofa.

She suddenly remembered that she was married to him now.

Damian didn’t want to come home either, but Lily had forced him to.

"Sorry, I didn’t know you were coming. I’ll make dinner."

After preparing dinner, Stella helped Damian to the dining room table.

Through his sunglasses, Damian could clearly see Stella dressed in a cartoon-themed loungewear set. The oversized outfit enveloped her petite frame.

Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, and her face was makeup-free, making her look like the innocent girl next door.

Stella handed him a fork. "On your left is stir-fried pork with green peppers, and on your right is roasted potatoes. I wasn’t sure what you like, so if there’s something you prefer, just let me know."

"Okay," Damian responded.

To maintain the pretense of blindness, he fumbled with the fork, taking several tries to pick up the food.

The meal was pleasant enough.

However, when it came time for bed, both Damian and Stella grew nervous.

This was their first night together as husband and wife!

They sat side by side on the sofa, neither speaking, the silence awkward and heavy.

"Where were you yesterday?" Stella finally asked, struggling to find a topic.

"Work," Damian replied, lowering his voice to disguise it.

"Work? What kind of work do you do?"

Damian hesitated, unsure how to answer. What kind of work could a blind man do?

As his mind raced for a solution, Stella suddenly asked, "Are you a massage therapist?"

Blind massage therapy was the only job Stella could think of.

"Yes." Damian seized the lifeline she’d unknowingly thrown him.

"Oh... You must be exhausted, working so late," Stella said uneasily, rubbing her thighs. "Let’s go to bed early. I’ll take a shower first."

"Okay."

With that, she quickly escaped to the bathroom.

Once inside, Stella realized that she was so nervous she had forgotten to grab a change of clothes.

But her dresser was in the bedroom.

She smacked her forehead. "What should I do?"