"Do you want to accompany me to my office?" Anderson asked once they were in the car.
Rebecca glanced at him. Her eyes were narrowed as she stared at him with doubt.
"Are you sure you want me to accompany you?" She asked slowly, playing with a strand of her hair.
Anderson's eyes softened, and he nodded.
"Well..." a smile tugged at the corner of her lips, "...since you kindly asked, then okay."
Anderson chuckled. He was comfortable this side of her more. His eyes darkened as he ignited the car.
"No matter what happens—" he glanced at her through the corner of his eyes, "—I'll never let the old Rebecca return." He vowed, a trace of determination flashing through his eyes.
Rebecca had no idea what was going on in his mind. She only looked out the window, admiring the trees, with a smile at the corner of her lips.
Soon, they reached the building—Vance Empire.
Anderson turned to Rebecca whose eyes were closed, and her chest fell evenly. She had fallen asleep during the car drive.
He tapped her softly, and she stirred.
"We are here." He whispered.
Her eyes flickered open, and they met with Anderson's.
For a moment, silence reigned in the car.
"Mhm-hmm." Rebecca cleared her throat, averting her gaze from him.
"We are here."
"Hmm."
"Let's leave the car."
"Oh okay." Rebecca unbuckled her seatbelt, and climbed out of the car.
Anderson laughed softly before he left the car.
"The moment they stepped into the building, the atmosphere subtly shifted.
The reception area of Vance Empire was always busy—but somehow, eyes began to drift toward them one by one.
Rebecca noticed it immediately, and her brows creased.
She leaned slightly closer to Anderson. "Why are they staring?" She whispered.
Anderson didn't answer at first. His hand rested lightly near her back, guiding her forward.
"Because they're curious," he answered simply.
They passed the reception desk.
The receptionist froze for half a second before quickly standing straight. "Good morning, sir."
Her gaze flickered briefly to Rebecca.
Recognition flashed in her eyes, and confusion followed.
"Good morning, Madam."
Rebecca caught the slight edge in her voice and her frown deepened, but she said nothing as they entered the elevator.
The moment the elevator numbers began rising, the reception area exploded into whispers.
"Wait… was that Mrs Vance?"
"The same Mrs Vance who—"
"The one always chasing after Mr. Carl?"
"Yes, but why was she with Mr. Vance?"
"She looked… different."
"She was holding his arm just now."
Another staff member leaned in, lowering her voice.
"Didn't she embarrass herself for that Carl guy before?"
"Then why is she suddenly with Mr. Vance?"
The receptionist swallowed.
"I think something has changed."
Silence filled the room.
Then a quieter voice spoke:
"Or maybe she's playing a different game now."
They all exchanged glances while they pondered on what Rebecca was up to.
Meanwhile, this elevator dinged softly, breaking the silence that reigned in the elevator.
"Let's go." Anderson said.
Rebecca sighed as she walked out with him. She looked around. The floor was quiet.
The floor was a vast, silent expanse of white marble and cold air, less an office and more a gallery where the only art was the terrifying scale of the horizon.
It felt designed to make visitors feel small long before they reached the heavy oak doors at the end of the hall.
It was intimidating without even trying.
"This entire flood belongs to me."
Anderson's voice snapped Rebecca out of her thoughts.
She turned to him, and he took her hands into his. Her eyes trailed to the big hands covering hers, and her lips curved.
"I'll take you to my office. I have some matters to settle." He said softly, pulling her along.
Once they reached the heavy oak doors at the end of the hall, Rebecca's brows knitted as a shadow flashed in her eyes.
She stopped in her tracks, staring at the door with a strange intensity.
Anderson looked at her, and the space between his brows drew together. His grip on her hand tightened while his jaw clenched.
"What's wrong?" He asked quietly.
Rebecca looked up at him, and she bit her lower lip. "I don't know. I just feel I've been here before. And it might not have been a... good memory."
Anderson's gaze on her lingered, and he swallowed softly. "You must be overthinking it. Come on."
He dismissed her thoughts as he pushed the door open.
Once they stepped in, Rebecca took in the view.
His office was a massive, open space of polished stone and floor-to-ceiling glass that felt more like a cold gallery than a workspace.
At the far end, a heavy black desk sat alone against the skyline, stripped of everything except a single phone, a few folders and the weight of the view.
Across, a sofa was present in the office.
She nodded. The office was minimalist... just like him.
"The office captures your true nature." She muttered, turning to him, only to bump into him.
She took a step back due to the impact, and rubbed her forehead.
"Are you okay?" He asked carefully.
Rebecca shook her head. "I'm fine." Then, she added, "I love the way your office decorations are minimal. It reminds me of you."
Anderson clenched his fists as he glanced at her.
"You can sit on the sofa. I'll have someone bring you a cup of coffee."
She gave him a slight nod before taking her seat.
Anderson glanced at her briefly before he walked to his table, and picked up his phone. He said a few words before placing it back.
Taking his seat, he went through some documents. Silence filled the office. Not the uncomfortable type, but the one that was built on years of trust.
It was ironic. Anderson and Rebecca spent the last years with bad blood. And now—they sat in the same room, and they were civil with each other.
A sharp rap on the heavy oak door broke the quiet, and Sarah, Anderson's long-time executive secretary, stepped inside.
She moved with a practiced, elegant grace, balancing a steaming cup of coffee on a silver tray.
Her eyes were fixed solely on Anderson, her expression softened by a look of quiet devotion she only allowed herself when they were 'alone.'
"Your coffee, Mr. Vance. I made it exactly the way you—"
Her voice died in her throat.
The tray wobbled dangerously as she finally noticed the figure reclining on the sofa. The warmth in Sarah's eyes vanished, replaced instantly by a cold, sharp flash of resentment.
"Mrs. Vance," Sarah said, the name sounding like a bitter pill she was forced to swallow.
Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the tray, her gaze raking over Rebecca with a mixture of disbelief and pure, unadulterated loathing.
Rebecca looked up, meeting the secretary's hostile stare with a calm, curious tilt of her head. The silence in the office shifted, the previous peace evaporating into a thick, suffocating tension.
Anderson didn't look up from his documents, but his voice was ice-cold as he spoke.
"Put it on the table, Sarah. And bring another for my wife. She doesn't like black coffee."
Sarah didn't move. Her chest heaved slightly as she stared at the woman who had spent years making Anderson's life a living hell—the woman she had spent years waiting for him to finally leave.
"Is there a problem?" Anderson finally looked up sensing no movement, his dark eyes narrowing as they landed on his secretary.
Sarah's mask slipped for a fraction of a second, revealing a raw, desperate anger before she forced a stiff nod.
She stepped toward the sofa, her movements rigid. As she set the coffee down in front of Rebecca, she leaned in just enough for her voice to be a jagged whisper meant only for one person.
"You really have no shame, do you?"
Rebecca froze, her eyes widening as she looked up into the burning gaze of a woman who looked ready to tear her world apart.