Chapter 7
Catherine's heart leapt with excitement as she pressed herself against Philip, their bodies close enough to share breath.
"Of course I want it all," she purred, her tone dripping with suggestion.
In this moment, she resembled nothing so much as an exquisite white rose—appearing pure yet concealing thorns of calculation beneath her delicate petals.
Philip saw through her performance with perfect clarity. He knew without doubt that Catherine wasn't merely seeking revenge against James for his infidelity by coming to him.
He slowly raised his hand, placing it gently on her slender waist. Looking down, he studied her face—a masterpiece of delicate features that could have been painted by a master artist.
Catherine tilted her face upward to meet his gaze, her breathing growing heavier. Nervousness colored her complexion pink, spreading even to her earlobes. Her cherry-red lips appeared increasingly tempting.
"Philip." she called his name with deliberate breathiness, her voice soft and filled with allure.
Yet her performance failed to stir even the slightest ripple in Philip's heart.
Her current act seemed forced and clumsy to him, nowhere near as genuine as the raw, untamed seduction she had displayed that night.
Just as Catherine eagerly anticipated Philip's inevitable surrender to her charms, she was shocked when powerful hands suddenly pushed her forcefully away!
Catherine gasped in surprise, stumbling backward several steps before her back collided painfully with the wall. The carefully maintained façade of seduction cracked, revealing a momentary glimpse of discomposure.
Philip calmly straightened his expensive suit jacket and cuffs, as if what had just transpired was nothing more than a trivial inconvenience.
His thin lips parted as he delivered an ice-cold, cutting remark. "Your attempts at seduction make me feel utterly disgusted."
With those words hanging in the air, he turned away without sparing her another glance, his long strides carrying him decisively away from her.
Catherine gritted her teeth, glaring at Philip's retreating back. Her fists clenched in fury as she hissed under her breath, "Bastard. Just you wait. One day, I'll have you willingly falling at my feet, completely at my disposal."
Catherine took a deep breath, quickly composing herself before returning to the classroom.
She walked directly to James's side.
"Mr. Blair," Catherine greeted Emilio with a sweet, clear voice and perfect politeness.
Emilio's eyes lit up at the sight of Catherine, and he eagerly introduced her to Philip. "Mr. Foster, allow me to introduce Catherine, my most accomplished student."
Emilio's face glowed with pride, his eyes reflecting genuine admiration for Catherine. "She's a specialized master's student whose academic papers and clinical abilities are truly exceptional."
Philip gave Catherine a cursory glance, skepticism evident in his expression. "Is that so?" he asked, his tone noncommittal.
Emilio, completely convinced of Catherine's brilliance, continued his enthusiastic praise. "Catherine's medical research papers present innovative perspectives, and many have been published in prestigious national journals—quite an extraordinary achievement. A student who excels in both clinical practice and academic research is destined for greatness."
Catherine's face brightened with a modest smile as she prepared to respond, but James had already slipped his arm possessively around her shoulders. With unmistakable pride, he announced, "Of course she's exceptional—she's my girlfriend, after all."
Emilio raised an eyebrow, his gaze moving between Catherine and James with amusement. "Catherine, you and Mr. West are?"
Catherine smiled radiantly, answering with perfect poise, "He's my boyfriend."
Emilio nodded knowingly, a meaningful expression crossing his face. "Catherine, you not only excel academically, but your taste in partners is equally discerning."
At that moment, Philip's lips curved into an almost imperceptible smirk, accompanied by a soft, derisive chuckle.
Though subtle, the sound effectively interrupted the friendly conversation.
Emilio suddenly remembered his duties and respectfully invited, "Mr. Foster, Mr. West, if you're not pressed for time, perhaps you'd care to tour the campus?"
"I'd love to," James replied eagerly, having long hoped for an opportunity to stroll hand-in-hand with Catherine through the campus and experience its romantic atmosphere.
Unfortunately, Catherine was perpetually occupied—either immersed in writing research papers or engaged in clinical work.
Philip discreetly glanced at Catherine, who happened to look up at the same moment, their gazes meeting.
In that brief exchange of looks, they seemed to reach an unspoken agreement to never mention the passionate night they had shared.
James held Catherine's hand tightly, his thumb gently caressing her palm.
He leaned down slightly, lowering his voice to whisper in her ear, "Cathy, I want to kiss you so badly. Let's find somewhere private."
Catherine feigned shyness, a delicate blush spreading across her cheeks. "Stop it," she murmured. "Mr. Blair and your uncle are still here."
James was about to continue his persuasion when his phone rang with inconvenient timing.
He frowned, checking the caller ID before reluctantly answering. "I'm busy right now. Isn't the meeting scheduled for three o'clock?" His expression changed suddenly. "What? You're at University of Medical Light now?"
James instinctively looked back, only to see a woman in a blue blouse paired with a pencil skirt approaching with graceful, sensuous steps.
Every movement of the woman's curvaceous figure seemed calculated to entice.
She stopped before the group, respectfully nodding to Philip. "Mr. Foster," she acknowledged softly.
Philip regarded her with detached indifference, responding with the barest acknowledgment.
The woman then turned to James, addressing him with professional deference. "Mr. West, you have a lunch meeting with Mr. Wilson. It's time for you to leave."
This woman was Olivia Brown, James's secretary and his kitten.
James's brow furrowed in clear displeasure. "Olivia, since when does a secretary presume to arrange my schedule?"
Olivia remained composed, maintaining her respectful demeanor. "I wouldn't dare, Mr. West. I'm merely reminding you that Mr. Wilson is a very important client who shouldn't be kept waiting."
James clenched his jaw, appearing caught in an uncomfortable position.
"Fine. Wait for me at the entrance," he conceded.
Olivia nodded respectfully, but as she turned to leave, her eyes flashed a challenging look at Catherine.
'As the official girlfriend, Catherine couldn't compare to my influence as James's secretary.' Olivia thought.
James turned to Catherine with an apologetic expression. "Cathy, I—"
"Go ahead," Catherine interrupted, her slender fingers gently adjusting his tie with tender attentiveness. "I understand that work comes first."
James nodded gratefully, gave Catherine a quick embrace, and strode away.
Catherine watched James's retreating figure, the smile instantly vanishing from her face, replaced by unmistakable disgust.
She brushed at the spot where James had embraced her, as if trying to remove something distasteful.
"If you know about his affair with Olivia, why not break up with him?" Philip had silently moved to stand beside her. Emilio had departed, leaving them alone.
Philip couldn't contain his curiosity about Catherine's true intentions. He wanted to understand her calculations.
She clearly knew about James's relationship with Olivia yet continued to tolerate it.
Even more incomprehensible was her willingness to use her body for revenge against her unfaithful boyfriend, going so far as to give Philip her virginity.
The sacrifice seemed disproportionately large!
Catherine smiled lightly, a smile reminiscent of a blooming poppy flower—beautiful yet lethally enchanting.
She tilted her head coquettishly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Uncle Philip, you're becoming curious about me," she teased. "Be careful now."
She deliberately prolonged the final syllable, her voice playful. "You know what they say—when a man becomes curious about a woman, it might be the first spark of love."
Philip's expression immediately hardened, returning to his usual cold, severe demeanor.
He corrected her icily. "Ms. Levin, you are not James's wife, so calling me uncle seems inappropriate. In the future, please address me as Mr. Foster."
Catherine stared at Philip's deliberately proper face, memories of their passionate night flooding back—his firm grip on her waist, his heavy breathing.
"Say my name."
"Philip."
"Say it again!"
Back then, he had been utterly consumed by passion. Yet now, after getting what he wanted, he was quick to distance himself, insisting she call him "Mr. Foster."
His hypocrisy knew no bounds.