From Widow to His World: Claimed by the CEO

Over the next few days, I barely left work on time. Daniel had managed to dump every task that was not particularly important but troublesome enough squarely onto my shoulders. Even materials that were not my responsibility kept landing in my inbox, one email after another. Just then, my phone vibrated. I thought it was another work message, but when I looked down, my fingers stilled. My mother's name, Margaret Parker, was on the screen. I stared at the incoming call for a few seconds before finally answering it. "Hello." There was a moment of silence on the other end before Margaret's voice came through. "Have you been... all right these past few days?" "What do you need?" I asked. She seemed to sigh, her voice softening. "Come have dinner with us this weekend. I've already made a reservation. It'll just be the family. We can sit down and talk properly." I said nothing. If she had truly cared about me, she would not have helped my father, Richard Parker, push me into the Cooper family back then. Into that bottomless pit. "It has hurt me all this time, seeing things turn out like this between you and the family." She paused, then added, "Your father has been thinking about you these past few days too." After a few seconds of silence, I relented. "Send me the time and address." She was clearly relieved. A few seconds after the call ended, the address came through. I glanced at it, turned my phone face down on the desk, and returned to the data on my computer. ...... The clock on the wall had already struck twelve. I rubbed the stiffness from the back of my neck and closed my laptop, my throat dry and hoarse. Looking around the empty office, I could not help muttering under my breath, "Petty capitalist." "Done cursing me?" A low voice suddenly came from somewhere nearby. My whole body tensed, and the documents in my hands nearly slipped straight to the floor. I snapped my head up. The light at the end of the hallway was still on. Daniel stood there with his suit jacket draped over one arm, the top button of his shirt undone, watching me with a cool expression. Guilt flickered through me, but I kept my face calm. "You misheard me, Mr. Carter." He walked over slowly and stopped beside my desk. "Did I?" he asked evenly. "Because I heard you very clearly." I stuffed the documents into my bag. "Then you must be overworked." Daniel's lips seemed to twitch slightly. "You still have the energy to curse people. Looks like your workload isn't full enough." I almost laughed from sheer irritation and looked up at him. "Are you still here this late just to hear me curse you, Mr. Carter?" He did not answer. He only glanced at me and said, "Let's go." I froze. "What?" "You're getting off work." He added, "It's already this late. Were you planning to spend the night here?" I frowned. "No need. I can get home by myself." "Don't read too much into it." Daniel turned and walked toward the elevator. "I just don't want to hear anyone cursing me behind my back again tomorrow." I stood there for two seconds before picking up my bag and following him. The elevator doors slid shut, and our reflections appeared side by side in the mirrored walls. After five years, this was the first time we had stood so close. But our hearts had already drifted far apart. Resentment and confusion once again crowded my mind. Seeing him again seemed to make me hate him even more. But feelings like that were difficult to put into words, so I chose silence instead. Daniel kept looking at me, but in the end, he said nothing either. "Get in." His tone was not harsh, but it left no room for argument. I paused. "Really, there's no need. I can take a cab." "Didn't you just call me a capitalist?" Daniel sounded impatient. "Now I'm saving you some money, and suddenly you're refusing?" I was left speechless. He gripped the steering wheel and stared at me without moving. I knew his temper. After standing there for a few seconds, I opened the passenger door and got in. As the car started, a receipt slipped out from beneath the center console. It was from a luxury jewelry brand. I had not meant to look at it. But the words "custom women's jewelry set" were glaringly obvious, followed by an absurdly high price. My fingertips stiffened. Almost instantly, I thought of the woman in that photograph. It felt as if someone had seized my heart in a brutal grip. So after all these years, he had not changed at all. He could treat me with nothing but coldness, yet turn around and spend a fortune on another woman. I looked away, unwilling to spare that receipt another glance. Daniel did not notice anything unusual about me. His hands stayed on the steering wheel as he asked flatly, "Address." I opened my mouth, about to give him the familiar address. Then I suddenly remembered that the place I lived in now was the apartment Daniel and I had rented before we broke up. My whole body stiffened. I instinctively glanced at Daniel. Seeing that he had not noticed my reaction, I lowered my eyes and gave him a random address, feeling guilty for no reason. "Just drop me off there."