Chapter 5

After a long moment, Charles finally responded, "Why the sudden interest in working? Didn't we agree I'd take care of you for life?"

He crouched before Willow, holding her hands. His tone was light, but he couldn't meet her eyes.

Willow frowned slightly. "What's wrong with me working? When you're at the office, I could be with you."

"Willow, you know I don't like other men looking at you," Charles replied, trotting out his usual excuse.

Bitterness rose in her throat as she pulled her hands from his. "But it's fine for you to be around other women?"

Charles looked up with a smile. "Are you jealous?"

When Willow remained silent, he sat beside her and continued, "Rachel grew up with me. She's truly just like a sister. My mom feels the same way—they don't mean anything by it."

Even now, he was defending Rachel. Perhaps he still thought Willow had embarrassed him with her "outburst" at lunch.

"I just want to work," she said firmly. "If you think the secretary position isn't appropriate, I can find something myself."

Charles studied her with confusion. Willow had mentioned wanting to work before, but never with today's persistence.

"Has something happened? Do you need money? How much?" He stood and retrieved a card. "This has one million dollars. Use it for now, and tell me if you need more."

Willow stared at the bank card. She couldn't deny Charles had always been generous, but she no longer trusted him.

"It's not just about money," she said quietly. "It's about dignity."

"Dignity?" Charles frowned. "Haven't I respected you enough all these years?"

Except for preventing her from working, he had generally accommodated her in most matters.

"You respect me," Willow replied. "But what about your family?"

Charles fell silent.

"Willow..." he tried to soothe her as he always had.

She cut him off. "They don't like me because they think I have nothing to offer. That I'm a parasite living off you. And truthfully, that's exactly what I've been."

"It's not like that. This was my choice," Charles explained, sensing her seriousness. "I'm the one who didn't want you to work."

Willow gave him a look, irony washing over her. That might be true, but in front of his family, he had never once defended her.

"I'm just letting you know that starting tomorrow, I'll be looking for work."

Seeing her determination, Charles reluctantly agreed.

That night, Willow used the excuse of preparing her resume to sleep in the study. Charles, worried about the marks on his body being discovered, didn't object.

---

Several days passed with Willow's resumes disappearing into the void without response. Charles kept tabs on her job search progress and repeatedly urged her to give up.

Willow wasn't surprised. Despite her prestigious education, the year-long gap since graduation had weakened her competitiveness. She decided to try some lesser-known small companies.

Unexpectedly, within hours of sending out applications, one company responded, inviting her for an interview that afternoon.

The timing was rushed, but time was the one thing Willow had plenty of.

She arrived an hour earlier than scheduled. She had carefully selected this company—though small, it was located in a downtown commercial building and seemed legitimate.

Her interviewer was a young woman who asked basic professional questions before sending Willow home to await their decision.

Willow felt confident about this job. She seemed to be the only candidate interviewed that day, and the interviewer's feedback had been positive.

Everything seemed to be improving.

Heavy rain had started by the time she left the building.

Out of habit, Willow called Charles. Only after dialing did she remember things had changed—Charles might be "occupied."

Just as she was about to hang up, he answered. "Babe?" came his worried voice.

Willow pushed her suspicions aside. "Are you free? I just finished an interview, it's raining, and I can't get a taxi."

Charles immediately agreed. "Send me your location. Find somewhere to wait inside so you don't get wet."

His instructions were the same as always, as if nothing had changed.

Willow's nose stung with emotion. "Okay," she replied softly.

After hanging up, she found a nearby café and ordered coffee to wait.

Time ticked by slowly. Charles had said he'd arrive in thirty minutes, but three hours had now passed.

Willow tried calling for a taxi again, but due to the rain and traffic congestion, few drivers were accepting rides.

As she grew increasingly frustrated, an unfamiliar male voice spoke beside her.

"Hey beautiful, waiting for a ride?"

A man had approached her table, looking at her eagerly. He had been watching her for a while—a woman sitting alone on a rainy day, repeatedly checking her phone, clothes slightly damp. She was clearly stranded.

"Where are you headed? I can give you a lift," he offered, dangling his car keys.

Willow politely declined. "Thank you, but I've already found a ride."

The man persisted. "Really? Let me see how long until your driver arrives. With rain this heavy, it might be quite a wait." He reached for Willow's phone.

Willow's expression cooled. "I can wait. Please leave me alone."

With her elegant features hardened, she projected an icy beauty that created immediate distance.

The man hesitated before recovering his nerve, finding her even more attractive. "Don't misunderstand, I'm not a bad guy, I just..."

The café faced the street with transparent windows, so the man didn't dare do anything truly inappropriate. Still, he ignored all of Willow's rejections and refused to leave.

Since he hadn't done anything overtly offensive, the café staff didn't intervene.

Frustrated, Willow picked up her phone to call the police.

At that moment, a Bentley pulled up smoothly outside the café.

Blake stepped out, holding an umbrella for someone behind him while complaining under his breath.

"In this downpour, we could have rescheduled. That young lady is really inconsiderate."

As he spoke, he glanced toward the café to see if the woman was truly waiting as she'd claimed. Instead, his eyes landed on Willow.

"Mr. Lancaster, isn't that Ms. Spencer?"