Lilith picked up the document from the desk and shoved it into Xenia’s arms, swiftly snapping two photos with her phone.

"Then I’ll trouble you to hand this to Hendrix, Vice President Larkin. If anything goes wrong later, it's no longer my problem."

Her voice was drained, devoid of any energy or desire to challenge Xenia. There was no point—being favored gave Xenia the audacity to act without fear, while in Hendrix's eyes, Lilith was nothing.

Even in the temperature-controlled office, Lilith’s back felt cold, and that chill spread from deep within her. She took the elevator down, stepping out into the sunlight, but the warmth did little to melt the icy knot in her chest.

Standing on the bustling street, her lips curled into a bitter, self-mocking smile. Perhaps hotel rooms were just occasional indulgences, and office hookups were their real routine.

She had known all along about Hendrix and Xenia. Seeing more proof shouldn’t have hurt this much—but it did. The pain now was sharper than the dull ache she’d carried these past days, knowing Hendrix didn’t love her and had betrayed her with Xenia.

Her phone buzzed abruptly, snapping her out of her thoughts. She answered.

“Hello?”

"Lilith Johnson, come home right now," her father Charles Johnson ordered, leaving no room for refusal.

She didn’t have much on her plate today—just a piano session in the afternoon, no interviews lined up. Drowning in misery at home wasn’t appealing either, so she sighed and relented.

"Alright, I’m coming."

Though truth be told, going back was the last thing she wanted.

——

Meanwhile, Hendrix didn’t just postpone his meeting—he moved it up, thinking the wait would better wear down Lilith’s resolve.

A meeting that could have wrapped up in fifty minutes stretched unnecessarily into two hours.

When it finally ended around noon, he removed his glasses, massaging the bridge of his nose before strolling leisurely back to his office.

"Mr. Hendrix, I’ve got a document for you to sign!" The finance manager chased after him, holding out the paperwork.

Tyler intercepted the manager. "Trying to squeeze in a signature during the meeting? Mr. Hendrix has more important things to handle—bring it to him after lunch."

The manager looked frustrated—he had hoped to save himself some time.

"What's the rush?" Hendrix asked unexpectedly, stopping in his tracks.

With uncharacteristic patience, he took the document, signed it, and handed it back before resuming his walk toward the office.

He wondered what pitiful state Lilith might be in now. Hopefully, she wasn’t crying—Hendrix hated it when women cried.

He opened the door, ready to revel in her humiliation, but his expression quickly shifted to indifference.

The office was empty. No sign of her on the sofa. No shadow by the floor-to-ceiling window.

His office was an open layout—there weren’t many places to hide. It was clear she hadn’t waited for him.

Then, a faint noise came from the adjoining rest area. His brow furrowed instantly.

What on earth was Lilith doing in there? She had no right to snoop around.

These past days had worn him down—work stress compounded by her antics had kept him awake at night. He had downed more than a few drinks in the rest area to cope.

If she stumbled upon that, she’d probably misinterpret it, thinking he’d been drinking because of her—

“Hendrix.” Xenia emerged from the rest area, meeting Hendrix’s simmering gaze with surprise. “What’s wrong?”

Hendrix’s outstretched hand, which had been about to open the door, was now awkwardly level with Xenia’s chest. He quickly withdrew it, smoothing his expression back to its usual calm.

“Nothing. What are you doing here?”

Xenia smiled. “I’m here for your sake, of course. There’s a press conference this afternoon, so I sent your clothes to the cleaners and had someone tidy up your rest area. You need to take care of yourself, Hendrix—we’re all counting on you, the company and me.”

“When did you get here? Was no one in the office when you arrived?”

Hendrix walked back to his desk, sitting down. His sharp gaze landed on a document at the corner of the desk, darkening slightly as a thought crossed his mind. His lips pressed into a thin line.

“No one was here,” Xenia answered, following him to his desk. “But Assistant Smith’s aide mentioned someone came by to deliver a file for you. I checked—it’s for the press conference this afternoon.

“It must have been a Foster family’s maid. Probably sent by your mother,” Xenia added with a small shrug. “She has no sense of decorum. Dropped it off and left without ensuring it got to you directly. What if something went wrong?”

So Lilith had come to deliver the file.

Hendrix’s chest swelled with anger. Not only were his assumptions ridiculous, but the confrontation he had imagined—delayed by his intentionally prolonged meeting—was now pointless...

His chiseled jaw tightened. “She really doesn’t know the rules.”

The reason he married Lilith was for her obedience. But ever since that night, she had tested his patience over and over again. Now, she didn’t even understand the basics of how a wife should behave.

“I’ll attend the press conference with you,” Xenia said. “As usual, if you run into any trouble, leave it to me—I’ll handle it.”

Xenia opened the document and placed it before him. Then, in a softer tone that drifted away from her usual business-like demeanor, she suggested, “Let’s have dinner tonight.”

Hendrix tried to shake off the irritation Lilith had caused, softening his gaze. His voice was unusually gentle. “Sure, pick the place.”

Though this misunderstanding with Lilith was trivial, Hendrix was still confident she’d come crawling back to him. And the longer he made her wait, the more she would regret defying him.

Xenia beamed, then turned to leave the office and find Tyler.

“Assistant Smith, please book a table for Hendrix and me at the restaurant we went to with Mr. Mace last time.”

Tyler immediately grabbed his phone to make the reservation.

“Thanks. You’ve worked hard these past few days,” Xenia said warmly. “After work, head home early. Hendrix and I will manage the dinner on our own.”

“Huh?” Tyler looked up from his phone, puzzled. “Did... Mr. Hendrix say that?”

Xenia shook her head. “No, I did. You know how he is—if he gets back late, he’ll probably drag you into more work. Just leave when you can, and if anything comes up, I’ll take care of it.”

Tyler had been running on less than five hours of sleep a day recently. Xenia’s offer was a godsend.

“Thanks, Vice President Larkin,” he replied with a grateful nod.

Though Tyler officially reported to Hendrix, he was well aware of the special relationship between Hendrix and Xenia. If she was willing to take responsibility, Tyler saw no need to refuse.

——

The Johnson family used to own a villa in the wealthy eastern district. But after falling on hard times, they had moved into a three-story duplex apartment. Even in Rivertown, where real estate prices were sky-high, the apartment was worth millions—though it paled in comparison to their former estate.

Lilith had returned home, but she felt disconnected, lost in her thoughts.

“Lili,” her mother, Qiana Zora Johnson, called. She had been speaking to Lilith for a while now, but her daughter had not responded once. Frustrated, Qiana frowned. “Did you have a fight with Hendrix?”

Lilith forced herself back to reality and denied it flatly. “No.”

Qiana’s sharp eyes studied her. “Then something’s definitely on your mind.”

“You wouldn’t understand, so please don’t ask.” Lilith pulled out her phone, hoping to escape her mother’s prying.

“I can stop asking, but you can’t go around with that sulky face all the time. Hendrix works hard all day—he’s exhausted. Do you really want to come home looking like this and kill his mood? Especially when it has nothing to do with him?”

Qiana snatched the phone from Lilith’s hands, tossing it aside. “Do you hear me?”