The soft hum of the morning filled the quiet apartment — the faint whirr of the ceiling fan, the distant chatter of the city below, the subtle clinking of porcelain as I placed my teacup down.

It had been two days since I left Adrian’s mansion.

No one wanted me to go — not the butler, not the maids, and certainly not Adrian himself. They had all pleaded in their own gentle ways. The maids tried convincing me over breakfast, telling me the guest room could stay mine as long as I wished. The butler even reminded me that it wasn’t good for my health to move so soon. And Adrian…

He said nothing at first. But when I came downstairs that morning with my packed bag, he stood there in the foyer, his hands tucked into his pockets, silent eyes following my every movement.

“You don’t have to go yet,” he finally said, his tone quiet but firm. “You’re still recovering.”

I gave a small smile. “I know. But I’ve already stayed too long.”

He didn’t argue again, just exhaled deeply, his jaw tightening like he wanted to say something but couldn’t.

And that was that.

So now, here I was — back in my little apartment, surrounded by the familiar stillness I once thought I missed. But now it felt... hollow.

I brushed my hair in front of the mirror, tying it neatly into a ponytail, and glanced at the clock. 6:45 a.m. I needed to leave soon if I wanted to make it in time for the morning meeting.

Just as I reached for my bag, my phone rang. The sharp, high-pitched tone made me jump a little.

When I glanced at the screen, a smile instantly tugged at my lips.

Morgan.

I barely had time to say hello before her voice exploded through the phone, loud and unrestrained as always.

“Alice! Don’t tell me you’re going back to that hell of a company after what that scumbag did to you!”

I winced and pulled the phone slightly away from my ear. “Good morning to you too, Morgan.”

“Don’t change the subject!” she snapped. “You’re seriously going back? After everything?”

Her fiery tone made me chuckle softly. Morgan had always been like this — fierce, protective, and completely dramatic in the best way. She had a heart that burned bright for the people she cared about, and somehow, I had found a place in it.

“I have to,” I said simply. “Although I’m married to Vincent, I signed a two-year contract with the company.”

“Then breach it! I’ll pay!” she yelled without missing a beat.

That made me laugh outright. “Really? You’ll pay the breach penalty?”

There was a brief pause. “Of course!” she blurted, but I could hear the hesitation.

“Uh-huh,” I said, teasing. “Last I checked, your dad seized your credit cards for spending half your trust fund on spa treatments and a goldfish with its own aquarium palace.”

“It was not a palace,” she argued indignantly. “It was an aesthetically designed aquatic habitat.”

I laughed so hard I nearly dropped my phone.

“Besides,” she continued, voice softening into a playful groan, “that scumbag cousin of mine probably told you not to quit, right?”

“Which cousin?” I asked teasily.

“Don’t ‘which cousin’ me. The only one with too much money and not enough sense. You know who.”

I smiled, shaking my head. “He didn’t tell me anything, Morgan. This is my choice.”

“Your choice, huh?” she said suspiciously. “Fine. But if he ever— and I mean ever— tries anything again, I’ll burn that company down myself.”

“You’ll be arrested before you reach the front gate,” I said, still smiling.

“Worth it.”

Her dramatic tone pulled another laugh out of me.

“Anyway,” I said between giggles, “even if I wanted to breach it, the fee is two hundred million yuan.”

There was a stunned silence on the line.

“What— two hundred what?!”

“Million,” I confirmed.

“Two hundred million— Are they insane?! Alice, that’s daylight robbery!”

I chuckled again, amused by her outrage.

“Alright, I get it,” she muttered after a while. “You don’t want to quit. You actually love your job, huh? And here I am, acting like your mother.”

“More like my overly dramatic sister,” I teased.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said proudly. “Anyway, I’ll call you later. I need to go before I start crying from all this emotional stress.”

“Paying the penalty is still on the table?” I asked with mock seriousness.

“Paying what? Oh gosh— bad signal— I can’t hear you— hello? Hello? The service here is so bad!”

I burst out laughing as she hung up.

Typical Morgan.

When the laughter finally faded, I sighed softly. The apartment suddenly felt quiet again — too quiet. I turned toward the small dining table, where my breakfast sat untouched: toast, a boiled egg, and a cup of warm milk.

I forced myself to eat. I had to. The doctor’s words still echoed in my mind from the last hospital visit: “Eat properly, think less. Too much stress could affect the baby.”

I pressed my hand gently to my stomach, whispering softly, “Don’t worry, little one. Mommy’s fine.”

After finishing breakfast, I tidied up quickly. My bag was ready. My files were neatly stacked. My laptop was fully charged.

I took one last look around the apartment before stepping out.

The air outside was crisp, the kind of morning chill that carried both peace and purpose. I hailed a cab and told the driver, “KNT Corporation, please.”

As the car drove off, I leaned back against the seat, watching the city glide past. My reflection in the glass looked calmer than I felt. Beneath the calm was a quiet determination.

No matter what happened before — the humiliation, the pain, the misunderstandings — I wasn’t going to crumble again. Not this time.

---

The ride was shorter than I remembered. When the cab stopped in front of the tall, sleek building, I froze for a second, just staring up at it.

KNT Corporation.

It had only been a few weeks since I last walked through those glass doors, but it felt like an eternity.

I paid the driver, took a deep breath, and stepped out. The soft click of my heels echoed against the marble floor as I entered the lobby. Heads turned. Whispers followed.

Some people greeted me politely, with forced smiles. Others murmured behind my back, their eyes darting away when I met them. A few pretended not to see me at all.

I ignored it all.

“Whatever,” I whispered under my breath. “I’ll focus on work. I’ll make my own peace here.”

When I reached my office, everything looked the same. My desk, my sketches pinned to the board, the faint scent of jasmine from the air freshener — all untouched.

I smiled faintly. At least HR had kept their promise. Yesterday, they sent a message confirming that I’d been reinstated in my previous position as Executive Designer.

I sat down, organizing the pile of design drafts I’d brought. The board meeting would start in ten minutes, and I had to present the latest project outline.

My fingers moved quickly but gracefully, sorting each page, checking details, adjusting margins. It felt good to work again — to have purpose again.

I glanced at the clock. 7:28 a.m.

Time to go.

Gathering the papers, I rose from my seat, smoothing down my skirt, and hurried out of the office.

The corridor was busy — assistants rushing with coffee trays, managers flipping through folders, the click of shoes echoing in perfect rhythm. I walked faster, turning the corner toward the boardroom.

Then, without warning—

Crash!

I collided with someone.

The impact was enough to send my papers flying in every direction, fluttering like white snowflakes.

“Oh no!” I gasped, bending down instantly to gather them. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see—”

My words faltered as I looked up.

For a brief second, the world seemed to pause.

A tall figure stood before me, the morning light streaming through the corridor window casting a glow around him. His tone, when he finally spoke, was calm and unfamiliar.

“Are you alright?”

His voice was deep, smooth — a stranger’s voice. Not Vincent’s. Not anyone I knew.

And yet… there was something about it that made my heart skip, just for a moment.

I blinked rapidly, trying to steady myself. “I—I’m fine,” I murmured, clutching the last of my papers. “I should have watched where I was going.”

He crouched slightly, helping pick up a few sheets, his expression unreadable.

“Be careful next time,” he said softly, handing them to me.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

When I looked up again, he was already walking past me, his footsteps fading down the hall.

I stood there for a moment, staring at the papers in my hands, a strange feeling washing over me.

Then I shook it off. It didn’t matter. I had work to do.

Clutching the documents tightly, I pushed the boardroom door open and stepped inside.

The familiar scent of coffee and ink hit me first, followed by the quiet murmurs of executives waiting for the meeting to begin. I took my seat at the end of the long table, arranging my notes neatly before me.

No one said much, but I could feel their eyes on me. I held my chin high and kept my focus on the presentation screen ahead.

This was my world — the only place I still felt I belonged.

And no matter what came next, I would give it everything I had.

For myself.

For my future.

For the tiny heartbeat growing quietly within me.