"No, no, that’s not necessary." Cecelia quickly shook her head. "She’s still a little girl. It’s not good to spoil children." She smiled as she folded a tiny dress. "As long as she has clothes to wear, that’s enough."

In the end, she picked out two more outfits and two pairs of shoes for her nephew as well.

After calculating everything, she figured she’d spent almost the entire one hundred and fifty dollars she’d budgeted. Satisfied, she decided to stop shopping.

On the drive back, Damien was behind the wheel while Cecelia sat in the passenger seat, checking her phone. A notification caught her attention. The two transfers she’d sent him earlier were still pending. He hadn’t accepted either one.

She looked up. "Why haven’t you accepted the money?" Her brows furrowed. "It’s not much, but you earned it. I’ll feel guilty if you don’t take it."

She was about to continue persuading him when her phone suddenly rang.

It was her manager.

The moment she answered, an angry voice exploded through the speaker.

"Cecelia! What is wrong with you? You got into another conflict with a coworker and somehow managed to land him in jail?" His voice grew harsher with every sentence. "I’m honestly shocked. I used to think you were mature and reliable despite your age. That’s why I promoted you. But look at you now. It’s only been a few days! You’ve done nothing but cause trouble!"

The manager barely paused for breath. "The police just called to verify Kevin Lee’s identity. Thanks to you, he’s not getting out anytime soon. But that’s not my concern right now." His tone sharpened. "You still have a client meeting scheduled. Where are you? Get over there and sign that contract!"

Cecelia sat quietly through the entire scolding. Not a single word of concern. Not one question about whether she was hurt.

Only blame and criticism were hurled at her.

Even Damien’s brows furrowed slightly. Yet Cecelia didn’t seem surprised.

"Yes, sir." Her voice remained calm. "I understand. I know what needs to be done. I won’t let it happen again." She glanced out the window. "I’m already on my way. I’ll be there shortly."

"Good," the manager huffed. "And don’t screw this up, too. If you come back without that contract, you can forget about being team leader."

The call ended.

Cecelia lowered her phone. Before she could say anything, Damien said, "You’re still going?" His gaze dropped to her injured foot. "In that condition?"

She blinked. "What choice do I have? The appointment’s already scheduled. I can’t leave a client waiting."

Damien glanced at her. "I seem to remember you being quite capable of arguing with Claire Clark." His tone was cool. "So why did you back down so quickly in front of your manager?"

Cecelia looked away. "It’s not a big deal. I’m not dying. I can still walk." Then she added, "If you’re busy, just drop me off somewhere. I can take a taxi."

Damien’s gaze flicked briefly toward her mismatched bargain-bin shoes. Then away. "What time is the meeting?"

"In twenty minutes."

"Hold on."

The engine roared. The car surged forward.

They arrived at the client’s office building with only minutes to spare. As soon as the vehicle stopped, Cecelia reached for the door. She was about to tell Damien that he didn’t need to wait. Instead, he stepped out as well, then he casually offered her his arm.

"Might as well finish what I started." His expression remained impassive. "Let’s go."

With no better option, Cecelia leaned heavily against him. Walking side by side, it wasn’t immediately obvious that she was injured.

Fortunately, this was an existing client. The company had already worked with them twice before. There were no major disagreements, no difficult negotiations.

Everything proceeded smoothly.

An hour later, the contract renewal was signed. By the time they finished, it was already after two in the afternoon. Damien had spent half the day following her around. Cecelia felt obligated to thank him somehow.

"You must be hungry." She looked at him sincerely. "Let me buy you lunch. What would you like to eat?"

Damien glanced at her. A woman who bargained a pair of shoes down to one dollar wanted to treat him to lunch. The thought was strangely amusing. Not because he looked down on her. Simply because it felt unnecessary.

"The hotel provides meals. Free of charge. We might as well eat there."

Cecelia immediately gave up insisting. Free food was free food.

Back at the hotel, Ryan had already returned from the police station. Not only had he handled Kevin’s situation, but he’d also recovered Cecelia’s missing wallet.

Overwhelmed with gratitude, she thanked him repeatedly. After lunch, however, she felt it was finally time to leave.

"Mr. Damien." She stood carefully. "Thank you for everything you’ve done. Now that I have my ID back, I shouldn’t keep imposing on you."

Damien glanced at her foot. "Where are you going?" He assumed she was returning to Veridia. He was already considering asking Ryan to drive her to the airport.

Instead, Cecelia said, "I need to find a hotel closer to my next client. I still have another meeting."

Damien stared at her.

Another client? Was this woman trying to work herself into an early grave? She was limping across an unfamiliar city and still thinking about contracts.

"Can you even manage by yourself?" He frowned. "You’ll damage your company’s image if you show up looking like that. Stop running around. Just stay here tonight. Ryan can accompany you tomorrow."

So the handsome assistant was named Ryan. Cecelia smiled politely at him. "Thank you, Ryan. But I’ve already troubled you enough. I couldn’t possibly take up your time tomorrow, either."

To be honest, Ryan didn’t mind at all. After spending time around her, he’d found Cecelia surprisingly easy to like. She was kind. Gentle. Beautiful. And refreshingly genuine. Simply talking to her improved his mood.

"But..." Ryan began. Then he suddenly remembered who was standing beside him. "Unfortunately, I really am busy." He cleared his throat. "I still have work this afternoon. And tomorrow."

That part wasn’t a lie. They had come to Corvane unexpectedly, and he was the only assistant Damien had brought. His schedule was packed.

Damien remained silent for a moment and said, "Then I’ll go with you."

Ryan almost choked.

Cecelia stared at him. Mr. Damien was truly a good person. He’d helped her over and over again without asking for anything in return. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. "Mr. Damien..."

He ignored her emotional expression and turned to Ryan. "You and she can switch rooms. Take her to yours. Then book another room for yourself."

Cecelia immediately panicked. "What? No!" She shook her head vigorously. "There are so many empty rooms here! Why book another one? What a waste of money!" She pointed toward the suite. "Any room is fine. I promise I won’t bother you."

In the end, Cecelia stayed in the guest room of Damien’s suite. After closing the door, she reviewed President Thorne’s file. Then she attempted to call him.

No answer.

Several attempts later, the call finally connected. Only for him to hang up before she could finish introducing herself.

Cecelia sighed. Clearly, this wouldn’t be solved over the phone. Some clients simply disliked discussing business that way. She would have to meet him in person.

The problem was... Meeting him without an appointment wouldn’t be easy.

After thinking for a while, an idea finally formed.

The next morning, after breakfast, she looked at Damien. Dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, he looked every bit the powerful corporate executive. "Could we stop by a flower shop first?"

Damien raised an eyebrow. Was the client a woman? "Sure. What kind of flowers?"

"Anything. As long as they’re flowers."

Damien glanced at Ryan. Ryan immediately stood up and disappeared. A few minutes later, he returned carrying an enormous bouquet of red roses. "Will these work?"

Cecelia’s eyes widened. Work? They were gorgeous. Fresh red roses, wrapped in elegant paper and still covered in morning dew.

"You really do get what you pay for, " she couldn’t help sighing. "The rooms are expensive. The food is amazing. The service is incredible. Everything here is wonderful." Then she smiled. "These are perfect. Thank you."

Turning toward Damien, she said, "Alright, Mr. Damien. Let’s go."

Although the swelling in her foot had gone down somewhat after a night’s rest, it still hurt whenever she walked. Watching her limp pitifully along while carrying a giant bouquet of roses, Damien finally reached over and took them from her. "I’ll carry them."

Behind them, Ryan watched the pair walk away.

One tall and handsome man in a perfectly tailored suit.

One slim, fair, and quietly beautiful woman.

They looked surprisingly good together. Far better than Claire Clark ever had beside Mr. Vaughn.

Ryan sighed. Now that’s what a real couple should look like.