No! Absolutely not. DAME DAME!*

She could spout nonsense in front of the male lead all she wanted, but to actually be exposed face-to-face? That was out of the question.

In the original novel, Frederick Fairfax's presence was limited to when the main couple went to his movie at the theater.

Annabelle Winters liked Frederick Fairfax. The male lead got jealous. Afterward, he even let the female lead go meet Frederick Fairfax, have dinner, pose for a photo, and get his autograph.

And once they got home, the weak, pitiful, and helpless female lead was promptly pinned to the bed by a jealous male lead for some intense making up.

But Olivia Young still didn't know if Frederick Fairfax would even come tomorrow!

Even if Frederick Fairfax did come, she absolutely couldn't let Grace Gordon watch from the sidelines.

Olivia Young said coolly, "Tomorrow is the happy day my husband and I get our marriage certificate. What are you coming to watch for? I'll post photos on my Moments. Make sure you like them, okay?"

Grace Gordon looked even more frustrated. "If you're getting your marriage license tomorrow, then why are your parents trying to set you up with someone else?"

As far as she knew, her parents never tried to approach Grace Gordon, because she had clearly stated that Grace Gordon was not the father of her child and that she wanted nothing to do with him in the future.

The social circles in Kingston were just too tiny. The male lead was quick on the uptake.

Olivia Young feigned confusion. "You must have heard wrong. That arrangement was for my brother."

Grace Gordon wasn’t buying it. "Quentin Young is only 21. He isn't even of legal marriage age yet."

"You’ve got to snap up a good match while you can, or someone else will snatch them first! Understand?" Olivia Young patted her pregnant belly. "I just woke up and I’m sleepy again. I'm not chatting with you anymore. Young Master Gu, you'd best be off."

"Young Master Gu, do we really have to be so distant? Even if we're not together, we're still friends."

Like I’d dare be friends with you!

"My husband would get jealous," Olivia Young said, cheeks tinged with bashfulness. "He’s so jealous of our childhood friendship. He hopes you won’t mention your name in front of him again—for the sake of my happy marital life, let’s keep our distance, okay?"

Grace Gordon let out a laugh tinged with self-mockery. Why was he courting humiliation?

If Olivia Young still liked him, there’s no way she’d come back pregnant.

They’d been apart for five years. Her heart had moved on.

Olivia Young watched Grace Gordon’s retreating figure. No wonder he was the original leading man—he made even a solitary, downcast silhouette seem atmospheric.

The autumn sunlight fell upon him, but all she felt was a chill radiating from his body.

Heh.

Why bother putting on the act of a hopeless romantic when his heart was clearly wavering, even as he pretended to be the one betrayed?

A man like him was only ever well behaved when hung up on the wall like a picture.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, night seeped in black as ink. Raindrops tapped against the glass, leaving streaks behind.

Neon lights from the bustling streets blurred, painting the world in a dreamy glow. Everything seemed quiet.

Inside the room, the floor lamp by the black sofa cast a cold, listless light. The illumination fell on Grace Gordon’s profile. His head hung, a glass of liquor in hand. His suit lay tossed to one side, and all the energy seemed drained from him—a picture of despondence and heartbreak.

Annabelle Winters tiptoed into the living room, only to find Grace Gordon in this utterly lost state.

In her memory, he was always the composed, strategizing CEO, calm and unruffled by any storm. But here he was, so lovesick it looked as if he’d split his soul in two.

He wouldn't even answer his phone.

Annabelle Winters approached step by step. "You had dinner plans with Mr. Yang from Ding Sheng tonight. You didn’t show, so Assistant Ford sent me to check on you. Are you okay?"

Grace Gordon lifted up bloodshot eyes. Was it his imagination?

He thought he saw Olivia Young coming to him.

"Lily, Lily—"

"Lily!"

Grace Gordon stretched out his arm, seizing Annabelle Winters's slender wrist and pulling her in front of him.

Caught off guard, Annabelle Winters landed on Grace Gordon’s lap.

She panicked, her eyes darting. She tried to push him away, flustered.

"Mr. Gordon, Mr. Gordon, you’ve got the wrong person…"

"I’m not Miss Young…"

"Let me go!"

Grace Gordon gripped her waist with one hand and held her chin with the other, keeping her from moving as their eyes met.

Tears welled in Annabelle Winters’s gaze. "Mr. Gordon, please wake up!"

In the dim lighting and under the haze of alcohol, Annabelle Winters’s face looked even more like Olivia Young’s in Grace Gordon’s blurred vision.

"Lily, you’re angry at me, aren’t you? You’re mad that I didn’t visit you for five years…"

"You’re deliberately doing this to punish me, right? You’re not really pregnant—are you? Your belly didn’t even look round."

Annabelle Winters was desperate. Drunk men were truly impossible to reason with.

"I’m not Olivia Young, President, look at me—I’m Annabelle Winters, your secretary, Annabelle Winters! I’m Annabelle Winters!" She cupped his face, repeating herself, trying to brainwash him into sobriety.

She tried everything to snap him out of it.

"Lily, I understand. Tomorrow I’ll fire Annabelle Winters. How could she ever be your stand-in?"

Annabelle Winters felt her heart plummet into an icy abyss.

A young, wealthy CEO like Grace Gordon was wildly popular with the women at the company—many dreamed of marrying him and becoming Madam Gu.

She herself became his secretary right after joining the company, and Grace Gordon had always shown her extra consideration.

That special treatment once made her harbor fantasies herself.

But ever since Olivia Young came back to China, she realized she was nothing but a stand-in in Grace Gordon’s eyes.

He never truly cared about her.

He was even willing to fire her—just for his white moonlight*.

"Lily, I’ll make her leave, and we can get back together. How about it?"

Grace Gordon grasped the back of her hand, gently caressing his own cheek. His eyes glazed over, he drew closer, almost dreamlike.

And then, without warning, he kissed Annabelle Winters.

The moment he tried to take things further, Annabelle Winters pushed him away with all her strength.

Grace Gordon collapsed backwards onto the sofa, suit undone, face flushed. He laughed, but his laughter broke into sobs.

Annabelle Winters was about to leave with her bag when she heard his small, fragile voice and stopped to stare at him.

It was the first time she had seen such a vulnerable side of Grace Gordon.

Oh, Annabelle Winters, you really need to wise up!

Grace Gordon loves Olivia Young, not you, little stand-in.

He even wants to fire you for her.

And he just took advantage of you!

What she should have done was stomp on Grace Gordon a couple of times before storming out.

No. She wouldn't quit on her own.

If Grace Gordon really did fire her, she’d make sure to get compensation according to labor laws—N plus one*.

"Lily, don’t go."

"Lily, why won’t you talk to me?"

Still angry, Annabelle Winters just wanted to secretly record him—a CEO drunk at home, something to post online and make a laughingstock of him after he fired her.

But she didn’t dare.

She was scared.

She was just an ordinary girl, after all.

"Stop calling me Lily! Lily doesn’t want you anymore!"

With those words, Annabelle Winters turned and left, texting Assistant Ford as she went, letting him know the CEO had gotten wasted at home.