Chapter 8
Mrs. Westwood sighed, massaging her temples. “I’m exhausted. I’m staying here for the entire month, and I don’t want any drama.”
Blake grunted in agreement and immediately had Devon arrange for several obedient housekeepers to come that night.
When he returned to the master bedroom, Jackson was just walking out.
Being a doctor, Jackson had a more easygoing demeanor than most. “I’m heading out now. Her body needs gradual recovery. Oh, and take her for a comprehensive check-up at the hospital soon.”
“Mmm.”
Jackson wanted to say more, but sensing Blake’s foul mood, he decided to leave.
Blake stood at the bedroom doorway for a moment, his fingertips hesitating on the doorknob for several seconds before slowly pushing it open.
The room was dimly lit. Amber lay with her eyes closed, looking utterly vulnerable.
He dosed the door behind him but didn’t immediately approach the bed, instead standing about six feet away, just watching her.
Amber’s fever had turned her cheeks crimson, her eyelashes trembling as if caught in a nightmare.
Blake stood there for half an hour before finally turning off the lights. Instead of getting into bed, he collapsed onto the sofa by the window.
Amber felt like she was trapped in a sea of flames.
Thirsty…”
“Blake… water…” she mumbled deliriously.
she felt something cool against her lips as liquid slipped into her mouth.
She sighed with relief as the burning sensation subsided.
Early the next morning, she opened her eyes to the familiar ceiling and instinctively glanced beside her.
The bed showed no indentation, no sign anyone had slept there-a detail she’d grown accustomed to checking these past three years.
An empty glass sat on the nightstand. She quickly got up, checking the time-almost 6:30 AM.
She needed to pick up Director Pratt.
Hurriedly getting out of bed, she washed up and rushed downstairs, only to find Mrs. Westwood sitting there reading the newspaper.
‘Grandma, why are you…”
Mrs. Westwood typically hated spending nights away from home. Why hadn’t she left?
Seeing Amber, Mrs. Westwood clutched her chest in frustration. “Do you have ANY idea how frightening it was when you collapsed last night? Amber, why don’t you take better care of yourself? You MUST eat properly this morning.”
“Grandma, I need to get to work. I’m already running late.”
“Which company? I’ll have Blake call your boss and request a sick day for you.”
Amber lowered her gaze, heading toward the entryway. “That won’t be necessary. My boss is very understanding.”
“Amber, wait! You haven’t had breakfast!”
With that, Mrs. Westwood turned to glare at Blake. “What are you standing there for? Drive her to work!”
Amber had already changed her shoes. Her expression remained gentle, though she didn’t spare Blake a glance. “Really. Grandma, it’s fine. I’m driving my boss’s car. I need to pick him up.”
Mrs. Westwood was beside herself with worry. Amber was unwell and skipping breakfast-what if she fainted again?
She kicked Blake in frustration. “Can’t you at least find out where she’s working? She’s never had a job before-what if someone takes advantage of her? Amber used to smile all the time, but these past few years she’s become so withdrawn. I’m worried she’ll be bullied out there.”
So everyone had noticed how rarely she smiled these days.
Blake remained seated, inexplicably irritated. “Maybe you should get a DNA test done. She might actually be your biological granddaughter.”
Mrs. Westwood clutched her chest again, sinking into a chair. “That mouth of yours never gives anyone a break. No wonder Amber doesn’t smile anymore.”
Blake stood up, not bothering with breakfast. “Yes, everything’s my fault. I apparently forced her not to eat. Go look at her room-filled with luxury items, new designer clothes and handbags every month, jewelry worth millions. I’ve never deprived her of anything. She gets to be a full-time housewife but can’t even manage two housekeepers? That shows her incompetence.”
He adjusted his cuffs while glancing at the elaborate breakfast spread. “Enjoy your meal, Grandma. I’m heading to the office.”
Mrs. Westwood felt a headache coming on. She’d need to have a serious talk with Amber tonight about what was really going on.
Once in the car, Blake leaned back against the seat, the dark circles under his eyes evident.
Devon stepped on the gas, guessing his boss hadn’t slept all night.
With his eyes closed, Blake suddenly spoke. “Have the fish pond at Pine Creek Estate renovated. She doesn’t like its current design.”
Right away, sir.”
Fulfill any requests regarding Pine Creek Estate. If my phone isn’t reachable, proceed with the decisions yourself.”
Occasionally, Blake would travel to remote locations for on-site inspections where cell service was spotty.
Understood, sir. The renovation team will be there shortly.”
lake nodded, gazing out the window silently, lost in thought.
imber arrived at Zach’s doorstep twenty minutes late.
>ressed in a suit and tie, he greeted her with biting sarcasm. “Don’t you know to call your boss when you’re running late? What if I had an important overseas onference call this morning? Could you afford to compensate for that loss?”
I’m sorry, Director Pratt.”
ach was irritated but remembered the contract he’d signed last night. He opened the car door and got in. “Don’t let it happen again. Plenty of people would kill or your job.”
ust as Amber was about to drive away, a woman about Zach’s age emerged from the villa. When she spotted Amber, her expression instantly soured.
Zach, who is THIS?”
My new assistant.”
The woman laughed bitterly, “Hiring someone young and beautiful? Not even trying to hide it anymore, are you?”
Her hair was disheveled. In one stride, she reached the driver’s side and lunged through the open window, attempting to grab Amber’s hair.
You little SLUT! Get out of that car RIGHT NOW!”
Amber dodged her, asking Zach quietly, “Should we leave now, Director Pratt?”
Chapter 8
Annoyance flashed across Zach’s face.
“Drive.”
Amber quickly reversed the car, made a turn, and left.
The woman stood there, clutching her hair and screaming, stomping her feet in rage.
Amber glanced in the rearview mirror to see the woman crouched on the ground, sobbing, but she didn’t ask any questions.
At the office, her responsibilities mainly involved organizing documents-nothing technically challenging-and accompanying Zach to business meetings.
At noon, Zach asked her to deliver some documents to Westwood Corporation.
As a former Westwood executive, he still had two or three friends there. These documents concerned investment in their current project, and his friends needed to sign them.
Amber didn’t refuse. Taking the documents, she drove to Westwood Corp.
he had never been to the company before. Standing at the reception desk, she asked for directions to the Westwood executives she needed to meet.
The receptionist frowned upon seeing her. “Ma’am, you’ll need to call ahead for an appointment with Director Carter. The executive floor requires special access ards. I need authorization before I can let you up.”
umber was about to respond when Victoria Reed walked through the revolving glass doors. Spotting Amber, she approached with feigned warmth.
Amber? Here to see Blake?”
he seemed to notice Amber’s lack of top-floor clearance and smirked slightly.
he receptionist recognized Victoria immediately. “Miss Reed, do you know this person?”
Yes, but we’re not close. I’m here to see Blake myself. I’ll head up now.”
Of course, Miss Reed. Have a good day.”
ictoria gave a small laugh, pulled out her access card, swiped through the lobby security gate, and headed for the elevators.
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