A woman walked down the stairs of the second floor of her company.
She came to a stop, the sound of her high heels ceasing. Now before her, a familiar figure stood, so many inches taller, with his hands hidden into the pockets of his pants.
There was no trace of amusement on his face.
She puckered her lips, a certain look on her face. "So why have you come to find me at my company, Eric?"
The man Eric Rosell grew increasingly annoyed. "I am more than sure that you know why I am here. Could you stop behaving like this and quickly agree to the marriage?"
"No."
"You–!" He did not expect her to answer outright. "What is wrong with you? What is your problem?"
"Hm, let's see."
She lowered her gaze to her fingers, and as if a merchant, she began to count.
"I don't like you in that way. You are certainly not my type. But to top it off, we have known each other since we were little, and for whatever reason, our parents think it's okay to play little matchmakers."
"What does any of this matter?" Eric snapped. "So what if you don't like me? We're not getting married to be in love! You are the daughter of Executive Sterling. You should understand what it is like for people of our high social standing. Love? What are you, a kid?"
"Wait, wait, wait. Now, now, slow down, Mr." She clicked her tongue. "Who cares about love? You're just the problem. I don't want to marry you. Listen, Eric, imagine if we get married and I wake up to your face. I think it will irritate me to death and I might just strangle you."
"Then we don't have to share the same room."
"Your presence alone will be enough to tick me off."
"You–!"
She finally stepped forward to him. "Eric, don't you have a lover?"
"What is it to you?" He glared at her.
"I just don't get it. You have a lover, yet instead of fighting against our parent's decision, you find yourself all the way over here to my company to do this. Enough of this nonsense. We are not getting married, and it does not matter what my or your parents say. Please leave."
Eric did not leave. Instead, he spat out, "What kind of a man will marry a woman like you? You're a heiress, the daughter of Executive Sterling, but you cannot even have proper decorum."
She disregarded his words and walked past him to end the conversation.
The man, however, continued, "You behave like a hooligan!"
The woman's steps faltered. She stopped. Then her eyes twitched, and ever so quickly, she spun on her heels. "What did you just say?"
Eric had yet to explain when she stormed right back to him. "A hooligan? I behave like a hooligan simply because I don't want to marry you?" Her lips stretched into a smirk. "Say, Mr. Eric, why don't I go ahead and show you what a hooligan behaves like?"
Whatever the man may have expected, it certainly was not for her to lift one of her legs, delivering a kick to his family jewels.
He went rigid.
He felt pain sizzle up his body, and he quickly cupped his crotch, unable to stop himself from kneeling to the floor, his body keeled over.
"Now this is how a hooligan behaves. You might as well call me that again," she scoffed.
She stormed past him and left the company. She did not care for the many employers who saw the scene and made gossip. Instead, she returned to her villa.
Upon stepping through the door of her room, a certain degree of irritation coursed through her veins. The show playing on the TV was a particular one she very much hated.
Why? Simply because the female lead was too much of an idiot, a coward and a pushover helplessly in love. Not only had her husband had an affair, but he even intended to marry the affair partner. However, instead of leaving him, she stays begging him.
What even was so good about him? Surely his third leg cannot be that good.
"Writers nowadays," she said, sounding annoyed. "Who even watches such a script?"
She pattered to her bed and plopped down onto it. The show on the large-screen TV continued to play.
She stared over at it.
"Caesar, I am not asking for too much, I am not even asking for your love anymore. But must you give me a divorce? Can't you let me stay? I won't stop you if you really want to marry her. I am more than happy to co-exist so long as I can be with you," the female lead, Lilian, from the show begged and begged.
Snorts had begun to fill up her pretty face.
The woman was not sure when her face began to squeeze in irritation the more she watched. "Is this not rock bottom? Could one even love someone this much?"
If so, then love in this aspect was repulsing. She thought. To reduce a person to this state…
Unable to stand seeing this series anymore, she looked for the remote. But it was too far from her reach. And so she instead turned on the bed, having her back to the TV.
I feel very tired…
And with only such a simple thought, she accidentally fell into a deep sleep right there on the bed.
By the time she woke up, she was not sure how many hours had passed. But someone stood by her bed. A middle-aged maid in a well-organized working uniform.
"Young Ms Lilian, how do you feel now? Oh goodness. We found you almost dead on the floor. I feared you might not even make it before we reached the hospital!"
Lilian combed her fingers through her hair. "Me? What are you talking about? Why would I almost be dead?"
"Young ms… you tried… to take your own life."
"Huh?" She finally lifted her gaze. Say… why does she look so familiar?
She deeply stared at the maid, and then all of a sudden her eyes suddenly widened like saucers. "Aren't you… Aren't you the maid from that useless TV show?"
The maid blinked.
Lilian chuckled. "This show really is haunting me. I need to wake up."
She plopped back down into the bed. Yet minute after minute, nothing happened. She could only open her eyes to find the maid gazing at her.
"What?"
"He has really broken you, young ms," the maid sobbed.
"Huh?" Lilian pointed at herself. "Me? Who broke me?" She did not allow an explanation from the maid and instead pointed. "You, tell me, what exactly are you talking about? And why do you keep calling me "young ms"?
It was always Lady Sterling.
So then, what was all this?
The maid blinked. "Young ms Lilian… surely, it couldn't be you have finally…"
Lilian asked. "Have finally what?"
The maid sobbed as she circled her finger around her temple. "Lost it?"