Chapter 5
"Goodbye, Mr. Vance!"
Emma stood outside the car and waved at Lawrence.
The night breeze was strong, rustling the leaves overhead.
She stood there in her white dress, slender and delicate, her long hair tousled by the wind. There was something almost heartbreakingly vulnerable about her.
One block away from the hotel, Emma asked Mark to pull over.
She would take a cab home herself.
She told him she didn't want to trouble Lawrence by making him drive her all the way back. It wasn't exactly on his way, and the round trip would take nearly an hour.
Besides, Lawrence had never planned on taking her home in the first place.
But when he looked at the girl standing alone in the wind, his gaze darkened slightly.
Mark had always had a soft spot for young women who reminded him of his own granddaughter.
Looking at Emma, he couldn't help feeling a little sorry for her.
"Mr. Vance, why don't we take Miss Carter home? It's not easy to get a cab around here."
Lawrence frowned slightly.
"Since you—"
Emma immediately shook her head so hard it was almost comical.
"No, no! It's fine. I can get a cab myself. Goodbye!"
She turned and walked away.
She looked as though she had just made some incredibly difficult decision.
No one heard her mutter under her breath.
"If he drives me home, I'll just have to take another cab all the way back here. What a waste of money..."
Her next client had just sent her the location of his hotel.
It was practically right around the corner.
Of course she had to get out here.
She had no idea why Lawrence had suddenly grown a heart, but tonight really wasn't the night for it.
Emma checked the time.
She still had thirty minutes before her appointment.
She decided to head back to the hotel first and pack up some pasta for a late-night snack.
No pizza tonight.
Free pasta.
Much better.
But when she turned around, she realized Lawrence's car was still sitting exactly where she had left it.
Emma blinked.
What is he doing?
Just as she turned her head, their eyes met.
Lawrence's expression was slightly dark.
Emma's heart skipped a beat.
Did I hurt the CEO's feelings by rejecting his offer?
Fine.
She still had five minutes left on the clock.
She could keep acting.
The emotionless look in Emma's eyes immediately changed.
Suddenly, there was reluctance in them.
She slowly turned around and walked back.
Only then did Lawrence realize that he had been staring at her retreating figure.
His brows drew together.
The moment he saw her coming back, he immediately ordered Mark:
"Drive."
Mark:
"......"
Wasn't Mr. Vance literally waiting for Miss Carter to turn around?
What exactly was this man trying to do?
Was Mark part of their little performance too?
Mark shook his head and started the car.
Lawrence's eyes unconsciously drifted toward the rearview mirror.
Emma was still standing there, watching the car drive away.
Her eyes were filled with heartbreak.
There even seemed to be tears shimmering in them.
Lawrence quickly looked away and leaned back against the leather seat.
She's not going to chase the car, is she?
I knew it.
That whole refusal was just an act.
Playing hard to get.
"Mark, you can slow down a little," Lawrence said.
Mark smiled.
"Sure."
The next second, Lawrence's expression changed.
"No. Speed up."
A beat.
"Go as fast as you can."
Mark glanced into the rearview mirror.
Sure enough, Emma was running after the car.
She was even shouting something.
Mark was completely confused.
Did Mr. Vance want Miss Carter in the car or not?
"......"
Once Lawrence's car finally disappeared from sight, Emma stopped shouting.
"Don't leave me! How am I supposed to live without you?"
She immediately rolled her eyes.
What a poser.
Seriously. Capitalists really do squeeze every last second out of every dollar they spend.
Apparently, watching her turn around wasn't enough.
Standing there and watching his car leave wasn't enough either.
He actually had to see her chase the car before he was satisfied.
Being a replacement for someone's "untouchable ideal" was not a job just anyone could handle.
A rich CEO's mind was impossible to read.
But she had nailed it.
That's why I'm the best.
Professional. Efficient. Flawless.
The party hadn't actually ended yet.
When Emma returned to the hotel, she simply told the security guard that she had left something behind.
The guards recognized her and let her through.
In fact, all the security staff on duty had agreed on one thing that night.
She was the most beautiful woman at the party.
The guard assumed she had forgotten something like her phone.
A few minutes later, Emma walked out carrying a neatly packed takeout box.
The guard:
"......"
If there's something free to take, you take it.
That was one of Emma's life philosophies.
Her appointment with Client L had arrived.
His identity was strictly confidential.
He wore a mask every time they met, and they had no personal contact information for each other.
They communicated through an anonymous website.
Every time, he chose the location.
And he only sent her the address about thirty minutes before their meeting.
Emma went to the front desk and collected the room key that had been left there for her.
Beep.
The door unlocked.
Soft, dim mood lighting greeted her.
It was a suite.
She couldn't see anyone at first.
A set of clothes had been laid out on the sofa.
Emma walked over and casually placed her takeout box of pasta on the table.
Then she picked up the clothes and headed into the guest bathroom.
It was a tight-fitting outfit that hugged every curve of her figure.
Emma took a moment to admire herself in the mirror.
Then she gathered her long hair and swept it all behind her head.
Her face was now completely exposed, revealing her naturally sharp and elegant features.
She wiped away her previous nude-pink lipstick and replaced it with a bold red.
She took off her three-inch white heels and changed into a pair of four-and-a-half-inch red stilettos.
Finally, she put on the mask.
It completely concealed her true identity, leaving only a pair of cool, distant eyes and the delicate line of her chin visible.
In an instant, Emma's entire presence changed.
The sweet, fragile girl in the white dress was gone.
In her place stood a woman who looked like she owned the room.
A queen who expected the world to obey.
Emma walked to the bedroom door and knocked twice.
A moment later, a man opened it.
His face was hidden.
He was shirtless, revealing a lean, defined torso and clearly visible abs.
His black suit pants only made his tall, powerful frame look even more striking.
Emma stepped inside and closed the door with one hand.
She gave him a cold, dismissive glance.
The man immediately lowered his head and dropped to one knee.
His back was perfectly straight, every line of his posture controlled.
He held something out toward her with both hands.
His voice was respectful and almost reverent.
"Your Highness. You're arrived."