"What the fuck!!" I thought.
Trying to suppress the burning sting in my chest, I shifted my gaze to Mr. Jacobs, who was sipping beer and laughing with the other staff beside me.
"Hey, Mr. Janez," I leaned closer, my voice low and sharp. "Would you like to tell me more about that Park?"
He followed my glance—first to Nari, wrapped around Mr. Charlotte like a scarf in winter, then back to me. His expression turned serious.
"Well... Ms. Nari isn't engaged yet, but the rumors are spreading faster than wildfire. People are betting she's going to be, soon."
"Is that even necessary?" I asked, brows furrowed.
He leaned in slightly.
"Absolutely, yes. When Mr. Charlotte approached the Parkstone Capital founder for a partnership deal, the man said he'd only agree if David married his daughter—and treated her like royalty. Mr. Charlotte… he took that literally, Ms. Caroline."
I stared blankly.
"You're joking."
"Not even a bit," he said, sipping his beer. "And as for why she's working here in our office instead of sitting pretty at her daddy's company—she had a crush. She begged her father to let her work here, just to be around the CEO."
"Fuck… fuck!" I muttered under my breath.
I glanced again at her. Her fake laugh, her artificial beauty, her predatory grip on him.
"No wonder. A crush like that could drive anyone to do anything," I said, almost sarcastically. "What do you think, Mr. Jacobs?"
"Couldn't agree more."
Then, suddenly—
"Hey! What are you two whispering about?"
Nari's drunken voice slurred into the air like cheap perfume. She wobbled toward us.
"Nothing at all, Ms. Park," Jacobs answered calmly, raising his glass.
Before I could recover, that bastard David leaned toward her and whispered—loud enough for Jacobs and me to hear—
"Let's go, Ms. Park. We still have to warm your bed, right?"
"Y-yeah…" she replied, giggling with a flushed face.
He stood, steadied her by holding her waist, then turned to the team.
"We'll be leaving first."
The entire room paused. Forks mid-air. Wine halfway to lips. Staring.
They walked out like royalty, arm in arm. Everyone watched in silence, unable to hide their expressions.
And me?
I just sat there. Watching.
"Lucky girl… to have someone care like that."
The thought flickered like a match in the dark.
The same me—who used to roll her eyes at romance and hated anything remotely perverted—was now secretly… wishing for a boyfriend like that?
"Wait—WHAT?!"
I jerked in my seat.
"I am NOT wishing for a boyfriend like that fcking guy. But… I really want one."*
I sighed, emptied my glass, and stood. People started leaving in pairs and small groups, waving goodbye. I followed suit.
Later That Night – At Home
The bathwater had helped. A little. I dried my hair, wrapped my robe, and walked into the bedroom.
That's when I spotted it—Caroline Garnier's phone, lying face-down in the open briefcase.
"Must've been switched off during the busy days," I mumbled.
Curious, I picked it up and powered it on.
As it booted up, I muttered to myself,
"Let's see what came through… maybe something important."
The screen lit up.
25 missed calls.
All from one contact:
'Bestie Forever 💕'
My eyes widened.
"She had a bestie?! And Thomas—that jerk—never told me anything?!"
I scrolled through.
The call log showed ten missed calls on the first day alone, and then one missed call each day after. Right until… the day Caroline died.
My heart dropped.
"Why didn't she pick up? If this was her best friend… what the hell happened between them?"
A chilling pause filled the room. Silence, only broken by my heartbeat.
Something wasn't right.
And I was going to find out.