Chapter 5
The elevator gave a slight jolt as it began its ascent, a muffled thud reverberating through the cabin. Myra wasn’t fast enough to steady herself and, before she could grab the handrail, she stumbled right into the man standing next to her. His open shirt collar brushed against her forehead, and the sudden closeness left her a little breathless. She could smell the faint scent of tobacco, mixed with his cool, fresh cologne.
Tilly, who had regained her balance, was shocked by the turn of events. She quickly reached out and pulled Myra upright, exclaiming, “Myra!”
As Myra tried to steady herself, she felt a firm hand reach around her waist, gripping her gently but firmly. She was held in place by the man’s strength, his fingers pressing lightly against her skin. The warmth from his hand spread up her side, and Myra couldn’t help but notice the power behind his touch.
“Myra, are you okay?” Tilly asked, her voice laced with concern.
It was fortunate that the man had caught Myra before she fell completely, but she couldn’t help feeling uncomfortably close to him. She had never been in such a position with any man other than Sean. She shook her head at Tilly, trying to push away the unexpected emotions that were stirring within her. Her gaze wandered to the man who had steadied her, and she found that he was staring straight ahead, his expression as unreadable as always. His hand remained on her waist.
Myra stiffened slightly under the continued contact, though she didn’t want to overreact. “Director Hart…” she mumbled awkwardly, trailing off as she looked away.
The elevator was silent, and everyone seemed to hold their breath, uncertain of how to respond to the situation. Tony Hart, however, showed no sign of discomfort. After a brief moment, he finally turned his head, his gaze sweeping over Myra as he noticed that his hand was still resting on her waist. Without a word, he withdrew his hand, his expression neutral as ever.
The rest of the elevator passengers stood still, exchanging no words. Myra, feeling slightly awkward, chose to remain silent, hoping the elevator ride would end soon. She tried not to focus on the warmth that had lingered from his touch.
When the elevator arrived on their floor, Tilly cast one last longing look at Tony before bringing her hand up to her chest in an exaggerated gesture. “Like I said—dreamboats like him are meant to be admired from afar. I don’t think my heart can take being that close to an iceberg like him every day.”
Myra offered a small smile, trying to brush off the unease she was feeling. But as they walked toward the Project Department in Hart Group, the image of Tony’s piercing gaze continued to play in her mind. She had to force herself to focus on the task ahead.
Meanwhile, as the elevator continued to climb, the rest of the men exited quickly. Leo, who had been in the elevator with Tony, pressed the button for a higher floor. He turned to look at Tony, his eyes widening in surprise when he noticed something.
Tony followed Leo’s gaze and glanced down at his shirt. A pale lipstick stain, like a soft rose bloom, was clearly visible on his white shirt.
“Director Hart…” Leo began, his voice trailing off as he nervously eyed the stain. As a known germaphobe, Tony wasn’t exactly the type to tolerate any form of contact with women, let alone have one stumble into him.
Tony seemed unfazed, his expression as unreadable as ever. “Go and find out what those two women are doing here in Hart Group,” he ordered, ignoring the lipstick stain on his shirt.
“What about your shirt, sir?” Leo asked, unsure whether to be concerned about the stain or the situation.
Tony simply ignored the question, running his thumb over the stain on his shirt. His face was unreadable, but there was something almost wistful in his gaze as he looked at the mark. He stepped out of the elevator without another word.
Leo, left standing there, couldn’t help but wonder about the two women from earlier. Why had Tony been so unbothered by the encounter? What was the connection between them?
Later that day, Myra and Tilly returned to Chase Group after presenting the initial draft to the Hart Group Project Department. As they drove into the parking lot, Myra’s eyes caught sight of a familiar black Lamborghini driving past.
At such a close distance, she could clearly see the woman sitting in the passenger seat, provocatively dressed. She was planting a kiss on the driver’s cheek as he expertly maneuvered the car. The woman wasn’t Eris—It was Elsie.
Myra’s stomach churned. So, Sean is juggling both of them. He would rather do that than even touch his own wife, Myra thought bitterly.
Her anger flared, and she slammed her foot onto the brake pedal, the tires screeching in protest. Tilly jumped in her seat, startled by the sudden stop. “Myra, are you okay?” she asked, her voice full of concern.
Myra remained silent, though her face had drained of color. She felt like the world had come crashing down around her. There had been times she had considered ending her marriage, but she never had the courage to go through with it. After all, she had spent years loving Sean, becoming so accustomed to his presence in her life. His mother had always told her that Sean would eventually realize how fortunate he was to have her. But now, Myra felt like she was floating aimlessly on a stormy sea, clinging to a piece of driftwood.
“I’m fine. Let’s head up,” Myra replied in a hollow voice, though the pain she felt inside seemed impossible to shake off.