Chapter 255: Do you not understand?

"I did not want others to create or spread more rumours." The reply left Nelson’s mouth in a single heartbeat. "So I thought a hotel room would be better." He said it as though his intentions were pure.

As if the hotel room had been an act of consideration, a private space chosen to protect Cixi’s dignity, and not a locked door designed to trap a girl who had no power to refuse.

Marion closed her eyes. Her lashes fluttered in outrage. Nelson was not making it easy for her to hold her face together. Every word he spoke peeled another layer of composure off her body and left raw fury exposed underneath.

Or perhaps that was exactly what he wanted.

For her to lose control. To shout. To throw something. To give him the excuse he needed to terminate her contract and remove the last person in this building who knew what he had done to Cixi McLore. To blackmail her to get Cixi.

Marion opened her eyes, sitting in the chair with her bleeding palms pressed flat against her thighs and her jaw locked so tight the tendons in her neck stood out like cables.

She examined his face closely, every crease, every pore, every gold cap glinting behind his lips. And she let her mind do what it wanted.

She imagined Cassian beheading him.

In public. In broad daylight. His head rolling off his shoulders while people watched, especially his wife.

The image settled inside her chest and, strangely, her anger cooled. Because if Nelson kept walking this path, if he kept pushing his luck and kept sniffing around Cixi, who now belonged to a man who punished enemies for life, then Nelson would not need Marion to break his bones. Cassian’s hands would do the work for her. And somehow, that thought felt good.

"She loves someone else," Marion said in a clear tone. The strain drained from her voice, and something else crept in. Something that tasted like satisfaction. "And she is waiting for her fiancé to return."

Nelson’s fingers immediately stopped drumming.

"She does not need the money anymore. You do not need to feel bad for her anymore." Marion tilted her chin up. "Neither is she your concern."

The anger that had been sitting on Marion’s body crossed the desk and landed on Nelson. His nostrils flared. His jaw clenched. Jealousy burned through his chest, hot and corrosive. "She is only doing this to make me jealous."

Marion wanted to ask him if he owned a mirror. He was decades too old for Cixi. And Cixi never liked him. She despised him. Every cell in her body recoiled at his name.

Would this man ever get it through his skull?

’Wait. He does not have a brain.’ Marion concluded silently.

"She is happy. Do not contact her." Marion stood from the chair. "Neither am I going to tell her anything about our conversation." She straightened her back. "If there is nothing else, I will be going now."

She turned towards the door.

"How can you be so heartless, Marion?" Nelson’s voice had changed. The wounded act was gone, and something harder sat beneath it now, colder and calculated. "I checked your background."

Marion’s spine went rigid. Her steps froze midway.

"I was informed that things aren’t going well between you and your husband. In fact, I was even told that he’s started taking a particular interest in younger women—buying them gifts and everything else they need, trying to play the role of their saviour."

Marion’s body snapped around to face him. "How dare you?"

Nelson’s smile widened. He had struck the right nerve. He knew it. She could see the satisfaction spreading across his face, feeding on her reaction. "I only wanted to raise your salary." He spread his hands on the desk, palms down, fingers wide, playing the generous boss. "So that you could stand on your feet and take care of your three children after your husband decides to leave you for a younger woman."

Each word landed on Marion’s chest like someone throwing bricks at her.

"I thought you worked so hard for this company. And I would give you benefits in return." He paused and let the silence stretch. Let Marion process his words carefully. "Of course, only if you set up a meeting with Cixi."

Marion’s fists shook at her sides.

"But it looks like you want to lose the custody battle for your children. If Martin decides to divorce you."

Her body seethed. Tremors ran through her arms, her shoulders, her clenched jaw. The fury boiled inside her.

How dare he dig into her personal life! How dare he speak of divorce! How dare he dangle a raise and her children’s custody in the same sentence and call it him doing her a favour!

Marion had never respected Nelson. But today, standing in his office with his threats hanging in the air, she decided he was a waste of oxygen on this planet.

And then a thought struck her.

Why was he repeating the same things Binge had said about Martin?

The young women. The gifts. The saviour act.

Two men, speaking the same sentences about her husband, as though reading from the same script.

Did Binge contact Nelson?

The thought crossed her mind. She turned it over. Examined it. Then shook it away. There was no way Binge would associate himself with a moronic low-life like Nelson.

Finally, Marion said nothing more. She turned, walked out of the room, and did not slow her steps until the office door closed behind her. She crossed the reception area, pushed through the front entrance, and let the outside air hit her face.

She took the bus.

She pulled out her phone and typed a message to Martin.

"Where are you?"

She pressed send. Then she stared at the screen and waited for the three dots to appear.

After waiting for what felt like forever to receive a response, her phone finally buzzed. When she opened the message in her inbox, it read:

’Go to ATM and get me $500 in cash. I’m running low on cash this month. I need to buy a gift for my boss. I might get a raise next month. So be a sweetheart and do your wifely duty.’