Chapter 32
Tony’s tone remained calm as he continued, “I’m sure you’re aware that it’s highly irresponsible for a designer not to attend a project meeting in person. The Hart Group is being lenient by addressing this issue verbally.”
The figure rushing away suddenly stopped.
Myra stood frozen for a moment, her back still to Tony. Her teeth clenched. He’s right. A designer needs to be present to explain the design data, to offer opinions and suggestions for edits. But…
“I didn’t intend to miss the meeting,” she said through gritted teeth, turning to face him. Tony was much taller than her—by over a foot—and she had to tilt her head to meet his sharp gaze. His eyes always carried a certain crispness, much like Sean’s. He’s just another unfaithful man.
Her throat burned with pain as she spoke. “If I said I missed the meeting because Miss Foster wouldn’t let me attend, would you believe me?” Her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. Sean doesn’t trust me. I know that. With Elsie in the picture, no matter what I say, it’ll only sound like an excuse. But Tony…
She shut her eyes briefly, then opened them again, her lips forming a self-deprecating smile. I know this is futile.
Tony studied her face, noticing the way her eyelashes fluttered, as though they were butterflies ready to take flight. His chest tightened. He spoke softly, “I believe you.”
Myra blinked, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Y-You believe me?”
Tony nodded, his expression remaining cool and composed. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Her voice trembled as she tried to form a response. “B-Because…” She swallowed the lump in her throat. Sean doesn’t believe me, so why would Tony?
Her heart sank as guilt washed over her for the harsh words she’d thrown at Tony earlier. “I’m sorry, Director Hart… I was too… reckless.”
Her actions had been rash, but she understood it was her fault for not attending the meeting. Still, the way she had spoken to him felt like unnecessary trouble. She took a step forward, but a sharp pain shot up her leg from her heels.
The blood drained from her face as she staggered. I should’ve known better.
Before she could catch herself, Tony’s arms were around her, holding her steady. His gaze softened as he looked down at her heels, where blood had soaked into the white shoes, marking them a bright red. The blisters on her feet must’ve been from the long, hurried run earlier.
She tried to pull away, brushing off his help. “It’s nothing. These shoes aren’t even my size.”
But Tony was quick to act, sweeping her off the ground in one swift motion.
Myra opened her mouth to protest, but he spoke before she could. “Miss Stark, no need to be so formal. I won’t leave a woman in this state, even if she’s a stranger. Besides, we may work together in the future.”
Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Does this mean he thinks I’m helpless?
She stopped struggling, realizing her heels hurt too much to care.
“Where are we going?” she asked, her voice almost soft.
Tony paused for a moment, looking at her with a faint smile. “Where would you like to go?”
Her eyes dropped to the floor, avoiding his gaze. I can’t meet his eyes. I feel like I’m drowning in them.
“It’s work hours…” she muttered. I ran out of Chase Group on impulse. I can’t go back there now.
Tony seemed to understand. He raised an eyebrow and suggested, “Let’s go to the Hart Group.”
Myra was speechless, her mind racing. The Hart Group?
Tony carried her to the front passenger seat of the car and opened the door for her. “Since there was a misunderstanding today, let’s clear it up at Hart Group. Miss Foster left before the meeting ended, and you should return to hear what was discussed.”
Myra’s mouth went dry. He’s really taking me to the Hart Group?
Her voice barely registered. “Thank you, Director Hart…”
Tony heard her quiet words, the sound of her breath brushing against his skin. His expression flickered briefly, but it quickly returned to its usual indifference.
He placed her gently in the car, closing the door behind her before getting into the driver’s seat.
The silver Bentley Mulsanne sped off, and not long after, a black Lamborghini pulled up where Tony’s car had been.
Sean had been brooding ever since Myra stormed out of the Chase Group. Unsettled, he had driven aimlessly around the city, trying to make sense of his emotions. He had called her numerous times, but she didn’t answer. His frustration mounted.
What is wrong with me? he thought, gripping the steering wheel tightly. I demoted her on purpose to punish her, but when I saw her tear-streaked face, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything harsh. She was staring at me with those defiant, bloodshot eyes… I had to hold back.
He dialed her number once more, only to be told she had turned off her phone. His mood darkened further.
Meanwhile, Tony had stopped at a pharmacy and picked up antiseptic and bandages. When he returned, he noticed Myra was still staring at her phone, looking weary and distant.
“Did someone call you?” Tony asked casually, glancing at her phone screen and seeing Sean’s name.
His mood darkened instantly, but Myra didn’t notice. She hesitated for a long moment, then turned her phone off, shaking her head at him.
Tony’s expression shifted back to something more neutral. He pulled out a pair of women’s sandals from his car—exquisite, covered slippers in Myra’s size, with a stylish design that was far from ordinary.