Night of Destiny (Anastasia Tillman)

Arthur, however, ignored Sophia and proceeded to clean up her wounds with at sterilized Q-tip. When he went on to apply the antiseptic, she hissed in pain. and gasped softly. ‘Ow, that hurts!” The way she yelped was so suggestive that Arthur stopped and shot her a freezing look, as though angry that hist testosterone decided to react to her voice.

At present, neither of them noticed the fuming figure that stood on the second floor landing with her hand on the banister. Emily had been awakened by the ruckus downstairs, so she came out of her room and Sophia's soft moans of pain. sounded. She then decided to head. downstairs only to see Arthur helping the girl clean her bleeding shins.

One could call it first-aid, but to Emily, who was so blinded by jealousy she could hardly think straight, Sophia was a cunning vixen who had resorted to such cheap acts to win over Arthur's attention.

“What happened, Arthur?” Emily asked aloud, pretending as if she had been woken up by the commotion as she continued her way down the rest of the steps.

Sophia hurriedly rolled down the legs of her pajama pants and apologized, “Did we wake you, Miss Jennings? I'm terribly sorry for that.” “Did something happen to you?” Emily asked, meeting the other girl's gaze confrontationally.

“I fell and scraped my knees earlier, so Mr. Weiss helped me stop the bleeding,” Sophia answered frankly.

“Well, if you're not bleeding anymore, then go back to your room,” Emily bit out grimly.

Arthur went to keep the first-aid kit while Sophia hurried up the stairs, but when she passed Emily, the latter grabbed her by the wrist and warned through gritted teeth, “Stay away from my man if you don’t want to end up in the sorriest circumstances known to man.” Emily had said this so quietly that Sophia was the only one who could hear it, but the icy warning in her tone was not lost.

It was only after Sophia was released from her grip that she hurried up the stairs, baffled by how much untoward hatred Emily had for her. She wanted to tell her that she was a natural klutz and had no intention whatsoever of seducing Arthur.

Letting out an angry huff, Emily met Arthur at the bottom of the staircase and said, “I don’t think | can go back to sleep now. Stay up for a chat, Artie.” “I'm tired,” Arthur said, handing her the bottle of milk he had taken from the fridge earlier. “Here, you can have this.” He hadn't actually been thirsty at all when he grabbed the milk. He had out of his bedroom when he heard gone footsteps coming down from the third floor, and as for the milk, it was nothing but chilled subterfuge.

Emily was furious. So, Artie would rather rendezvous with the maid than stay up and talk to me. Is that it? Looks like I've severely underestimated how much Sophia means to him.

The next morning, Anastasia woke up as the weak sunlight spilled into the room and over the side of the bed. Elliot had already called Larry, the vice president of Bourgeois, and asked him to drop by the house with a compilation of all the relevant company information. Over the phone, Elliot added that Anastasia would be in charge of running the business starting from today.

Elliot had left for work after that, leaving Anastasia to wait for Larry's arrival at home. When the clock struck 10, Larry and his assistant were escorted into the living room by the maid.

Larry glanced at the woman on the couch. She's blossomed into a whole new person now, one that must not be overlooked under any circumstances, he thought.

He still remembered the days when she had started out in Bourgeois. Elliot had asked him to persuade her to accept the gift of top-quality real estate and made him bring her the information on the property as well. However, completely unfazed by the otherwise-tempting gift, Anastasia turned him down.

From that moment onward, Larry had a feeling that she could very well become his superior. As it turned out, his gut had been right.

Unlike the first few times they met, Anastasia looked wiser and more focused now, with a confidence that seemed to shine through, polished by years of experience.

“Vice President Young, it's been a while,” she greeted with a smile.

“Mrs. Presgrave, | hope you've been well,” Larry replied affably, acknowledging the difference in their positions now.

“You can always call me Anastasia, you know.” “Oh, no, | couldn't. | think Madam President has a nice ring to it, or maybe President Tillman,” he said humorously.

She did not try to dissuade him from addressing her as such. “Could you give me a run-down of the business strategies for Bourgeois and the execution plans for them? I've only just taken over, and I'd really appreciate it if you could be my stalwart guide in company matters.” Larry was more than happy to do so. After all, Anastasia was married to Elliot now, and under her leadership, Bourgeois was sure to reach new heights in the industry.

Anastasia listened to what Larry had to say attentively. He was practically a veteran and a treasure trove of work experience, and she heartily approved of the strategies he had come up with for the business.

“We'll be holding a press conference for a new product launch soon, Madam President. You must make an appearance; it'll give the media a field day.”