Josie was charmed by Dexter’s dark, intense gaze. “Dexter, she whispered.
She felt herself drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
At this moment, the elevator door opened, and they reached the parking lot.
Dexter immediately kept his composure and pulled away from her. “That’s enough”
Josie lost her balance and almost fell on the floor. She turned and looked at Dexter’s back, his shoulders stiff and unyielding. She stomped her foot in anger, feeling betrayed and hurt.
As a driver took them home, she didn’t dare to act recklessly. Eventually, she fell asleep in the car.
Josie slept soundly as the driver pulled up to Mason Garden. Dexter hesitated momentarily before sitting down again and whispering, “Josie, we’re here.”
Josie slept soundly, her face peaceful and relaxed. A single strand of hair had fallen across her check, and she didn’t stir as it tickled her skin.
Dexter felt frustrated but ended up carrying her out of the car.
The maid opened the door. When she saw her in his arms, she lowered her voice and asked, “Is Mrs. Russell asleep?”
Dexter nodded slightly. He later pushed the bedroom door open with his feet and laid her on the bed.
Dexter looked around the bedroom and saw that it was filled with all her belongings.
He paused when he found a stack of sketchbooks on the bed frame. The first sketch he saw was a caricature of him with the words: The Devil.
Dexter sneered softly as he rested his gaze on the woman on the bed.
She was good at drawing but wasn’t a professional.
He continued to flip through the sketches. They were no longer caricatures. Instead, they were weird sketches of money, ice cream, an injured face, and a hand covered with blood.
There was also a sketch of the picture of him with Leanne.
It was a picture from the Russell Mansion.
Dexter’s fingers gripped tighter onto the piece of paper. He felt his mind racing as he looked at the person sleeping on the bed.
After the door closed, Josie opened her eyes amidst the silence that filled the room.
Josie inhaled the cool, musky scent of Dexter that still lingered in the room. She turned to look at her sketches, which were neatly stacked on the bed frame.
She thought it was impossible when Arnold asked her to get fifty percent of Dexter’s interest. But right now, she felt as if she could exceed fifty percent.
Even though Claire was supposed to be her assistant for Sylmark’s project, she kept her hands off the project entirely, leaving Josie to rush over the designs by working late into the night.
“Ms. Miller?” Claire noticed Ivy waiting for the elevator when she was about to leave work.
Ivy nodded at her. “You’re leaving now. Ms. Wilcher?”
“Yes.” Ivy was Dexter’s assistant, so she didn’t dare to act rudely.
“The Sylmark project is a project important to our corporation. Ms. Wilcher must be really busy these days, Ivy asked with a polite smile.
Claire felt her rage boiling. I’m merely an assistant. The workload is alright, she sneered.
Ivy slowly shifted her gaze to the back and noticed Josie typing hastily on her keyboard. “I’m not sure how the executives decided on it. Everyone is aware of Ms. Wilcher’s outstanding ability. How did you end up “as the assistant?”
“Ms. Miller, you have a good eye for talent. Someone must’ve used petty and filthy tricks to be in charge of a project they’re not qualified for. What bad luck!”
They took the elevator to the ground floor together. Ivy bought two cups of Americano and gave one of them to Claire. “If she’s not qualified, we shall make her resign.”
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