CHAPTER 35: CHAPTER 35: STOLEN ROMANCE VIBES

The advantage of a big company is that those who want to work hard can go all out.

Those who don’t want to work hard can simply finish their assigned tasks and leave on time.

From Monday to Thursday, everyone rolls up their sleeves and gets busy together.

After all, the company has a five-star employee cafeteria, a gym, a swimming pool, nap pods, and all kinds of great benefits. Living at the company isn’t out of the question.

Once Friday hits, literally right after waking up from a nap, people from various departments come alive.

Serena Sinclair wonders whether leaving on time would be too abrupt.

Unexpectedly, she overthinks it.

Just after four o’clock, people start clocking out and leaving.

Slowly, she notices a person missing here.

Turning back, a few more are gone.

Serena quietly asks Snow at the neighboring desk, "Are they leaving early?"

"Not really..."

Snow munches on some chips noisily, "Did you see the employee behavior guide sent by HR? The company strictly follows the 5-day, 8-hour system. Any time beyond that counts as overtime or compensatory leave. So, if you work for 40 hours straight, the following days you can just sleep at home."

Serena Sinclair: ...

She finally understands why Manager Lynch was puzzled when she went to ask for a couple of hours off this morning.

She’d been working until eight or nine every day over the past few days, already accumulating enough compensatory leave time.

No need to ask for leave.

It’s completely unnecessary.

No wonder he found her strange.

Serena asks Snow again, "Why aren’t you leaving?"

Snow sighs, "Chef Abra at The Thai Restaurant makes curry crab every Friday afternoon, but only for Friday dinner, which is ready at six."

Serena Sinclair: ...

Her phone rings, and as she turns around, she sees Wyatt Hawthorne asking, "Are you coming down?"

"Hang in there."

Ten minutes later, her phone rings again, "Ready to go?"

"Almost there."

The frequency of people leaving gradually slows down, those remaining have either their eyes glued to their screens or, like Snow, are waiting indifferently for something.

Serena makes up her mind, packs her desk, and prepares to leave.

"Snow, I’m heading out. See you Monday..."

"Have a great weekend, bye..."

The elevator descends, and thinking about Wyatt’s flashy Ferrari, Serena looks at the crowded co-workers in the elevator and texts Wyatt.

"Can you park a bit further away? Just further from the elevator is fine."

"..."

Parked in the driver’s seat of the Ferrari, Wyatt glances at his phone, then at the elevator directly opposite, looking speechless as he starts the car and moves it further away.

The car parks stably, just in time to see Serena emerge from the elevator.

She looks around cautiously, like she’s not getting off work but sneaking out like an illicit lover.

Full-on secret-affair vibes.

Beep!

A short honk blares, and Serena was texting when she hears the sound and looks in the direction it comes from, spotting the small Ferrari tucked in the corner.

She instinctively breathes a sigh of relief.

Serena takes one more look around, then steps up and sits in the passenger seat as the car doors slowly rise.

The door gently lowers.

Serena holds her breath.

The door closes and breath returns.

Wyatt chuckles, "People who know say you’re catching a ride with me. People who don’t might mistake us for having an affair."

An affair?

It’s just a joke.

Yet Serena’s ears burn red all the way down to her neck.

Wyatt pauses his gaze.

The car feels a bit too warm, as if its air-conditioning isn’t cool enough.

Exhaling shortly, Wyatt shifts his gaze away from her.

The Ferrari roars out of the parking lot.

Over half an hour later, they arrive at Hillcrest Villa.

With a whole day of scattered thoughts, busy periods are fine, leaving no room for dwelling over them.

Now that it’s within reach, Serena seems unable to wait for Wyatt to park before entering the elevator.

She not only gets out ahead.

But fluently enters the elevator and closes the door.

Hmm.

It’s all quite good.

Just like... being at home.

Wyatt casually puts his hands in his pockets, leisurely walking forward.

The elevator descends, its doors opening again.

Wyatt strolls inside unhurriedly.

As he enters, the air is filled with the aroma of a grand meal.

Instructing the chef to serve the meal in half an hour.

Wyatt throws his suit jacket on the sofa.

Hangs his tie on the stairs.

Smoothly unbuttons his cufflinks as he goes upstairs.

"...What’s wrong, little orange? Missing mommy?"

Serena’s soft voice floats from the audiovisual room.

Wyatt smiles, stopping where he is.

Casually resting his back against the door.

Meow!

Meow...

After five days of separation, the orange cat seems suddenly heartbroken.

Its front paws press upon Serena’s legs, kneading anxiously.

Head lifting, it rubs against Serena’s arm and face, back and forth.

Cuddling tightly, Serena holds the orange cat, petting it affectionately.

"Orange, be a good kitty... Once mom gets her promotion and earns more, we’ll rent a nice house and bring you home, okay?"

"By then, mom will be there, grandma will be there, together we’ll keep you company, okay?"

She pats its empty tummy.

Serena holds the orange cat, standing up.

Lifting her gaze, she meets Wyatt’s smiling eyes from outside the door.

Thinking of Wyatt’s words about lovesick longing.

And her own childish coaxing tone just now.

Serena feels her face heating up.

Wyatt has already stood up and walked away.

Serena follows him, accompanying Wyatt all the way to the terrace.

Pushing through the door, Serena freezes.

An expansive terrace of over 200 square meters.

The last time she came it was still open and empty.

Now it’s semi-enclosed.

One side has a bright, high ceiling, a few consort pines, and perfume lemons seemingly beaten and twisted into submission, their branches warped, spreading horizontally instead of vertically.

There’s also a massive root carving, with crisscrossed nodes perfectly complementing the cat tree.

On the ground by the wall are high-tech automatic feeders and water dispensers.

No need to look around while munching cat food or drinking water; the verdant view of the villa area is right in front.

Scenic and beautiful.

The other side is fitted with a glass wall taller than a person.

The sky filled with evening clouds.

A floor covered in enormous cat scratch posts.

As if revived, 2S leaps from Serena’s arms, gracefully approaching the feeder to crunch on freeze-dried cat food.

Serena gazes at the stunning view above.

Surveying the lavish feline space around.

Then thinking of her own cramped attic room.

She can’t help but mutter, "Really wanna go all out like you wealthy folks!!!"

Wyatt smirks, "If you want it, you can have it too!"

What does that mean?

Urging her not to divorce?

Or perhaps, believing in her ability to soon become rich enough for a big house?

No point in pondering what he means.

Serena walks forward, sitting cross-legged on the floor, zoning out as she watches 2S eat and drink.

As evening clouds slowly disperse atop, the sky darkens, and she realizes she’s lingered too long.

Serena rises and heads downstairs.

The chef stands respectfully, "Ms. Sinclair, dinner is ready, please take your seat!"

"No need, I..."

"You wouldn’t want me starving while driving you home, right?"

Wyatt’s voice echoes from behind.

Serena turns around.

Her gaze stiffens for an instant.

Serena hears the out-of-body sound from above.