Chapter 68
The moment Lyla was left alone in the room, she collapsed onto the couch, as if all her strength had drained from her body.
Tony’s words lingered in her mind, tempting her more than she wanted to admit.
Yes, she had always harbored the ambition to marry into the Hart family. But without his protection, she knew it would be nothing more than a fantasy. Gaining entry into the prestigious Hart Residence, let alone securing a place within it, was impossible without powerful backing.
She wasn’t getting any younger. In a few years, her looks—her greatest weapon in capturing men’s hearts—would inevitably fade. And then there was the man in the United States. If she couldn’t rely on Sean, how would she secure her future?
Sean had looked at her with hatred today, but deep down, Lyla was convinced he still loved her. If he didn’t, why had there been countless reports of his affairs over the past two years? Why did all those women bear such a striking resemblance to her? With Tony’s help, Myra and Eve wouldn’t stand a chance against her.
Her eyes narrowed, a calculating gleam flashing through them. The only regret was that she couldn’t completely control the man standing in her way.
The next morning, Myra left the Chase Residence.
By the time Eve found out, she was already gone—her luggage packed, her car speeding away.
Her phone vibrated incessantly in her pocket, but she didn’t answer.
Eve had always treated her like a daughter, and Myra wasn’t sure how to face her now. She knew that if she picked up, she wouldn’t be able to resist Eve’s pleas. But she had to leave. Staying in that house would drive her insane.
Luckily, the Sunny Bay Project had officially begun, giving her little time to dwell on the matter.
That morning, she attended two back-to-back meetings with the Hart Group to refine the design plans. Initially, she had been worried that Tony would use the opportunity to make things difficult for her after their conflict the night before. But to her relief, he didn’t attend either meeting. Instead, she was greeted by Mr. Logan, whose warm demeanor remained unchanged.
Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have thought much of it. But today, she found his attitude… awkward.
Her mind drifted to the first time she had met Mr. Logan at the Ritz Carlton. Back then, he had assured her that he would speak highly of her to Tony. At the time, she hadn’t thought much of it. But now… had he already noticed Tony’s interest in her back then?
No, that’s impossible, she told herself. We barely knew each other then. Why would he…?
Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted when Mr. Logan approached, grinning widely. “Miss Stark, your suggestion today was quite innovative. I’ll be sure to relay it to Director Hart—word for word.”
Something in his tone unsettled her, making her inexplicably flustered. Hurriedly, she packed her things and made her way out of the conference room. “I appreciate that, Mr. Logan. Thank you.”
As she reached the elevators, the doors slid open with a soft ding.
She froze.
Inside stood a handful of sharply dressed employees, each maintaining a respectful distance from one another. At the forefront of the group, exuding a commanding presence, was none other than Tony Hart.
Dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, he stood with a hand casually tucked into his pocket, his eyes fixed straight ahead. His presence was cold, imposing. Though only a single night had passed since their last encounter, the sharp angles of his face seemed even more unyielding.
His gaze flickered toward her for the briefest moment before shifting away, as if she were a complete stranger.
Behind him, his secretary, Leo, smiled warmly. “Miss Stark, please step in.”
Instinctively, Myra took a step back, raising a hand in polite refusal. “That’s alright. I’ll wait for the next—”
Before she could finish, Mr. Logan appeared behind her and gave her a gentle push.
Caught off guard, she stumbled forward. Pain shot through her knees as she landed inside the elevator. Behind her, the doors slid shut with an unmistakable finality.
Her open bag tipped over from the sudden movement, spilling its contents onto the elevator floor. Lipstick, an eyebrow pencil, foundation, her work badge—everything scattered in disarray.
Flushing in embarrassment, Myra bent down to retrieve her things, but a sharp sting shot through her knee. The wound from her fall the previous night had barely begun to scab, and even in the meeting earlier, she had been careful not to stretch her legs too much.
Seeing her struggle, Leo instinctively stepped forward to help—but then hesitated. A quick glance at Tony, whose icy gaze darkened, made him rethink his decision. Without a word, he retreated.
The other men in the elevator, sensing the tension, remained still, none daring to intervene.
Of course, Myra thought bitterly. Tony must have silently forbidden them from helping.
She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to focus. He must have been deeply insulted by what she had said last night. A man of his stature—rejected by a woman? His ego wouldn’t allow it.
Gritting her teeth, she picked up her belongings one by one. The items were small, forcing her to move around the elevator to gather them.
The last item—a lipstick—had rolled to a stop beside Tony’s polished suede shoes.
She hesitated.
Drawing in a breath, she reached out to retrieve it.
As she did, she glanced up and met his eyes. Cold. Emotionless. Looking down at her as though she were utterly insignificant.
Her fingers tightened around the lipstick as she quickly stood, but the movement sent another jolt of pain through her wounded knee.
Her balance wavered.
Before she could fall, a pair of hands caught her. “Miss Stark, be careful.”
The voice was deep, steady.
As soon as she regained her footing, the hands were gone, withdrawn as if the very contact had been distasteful.
Tony’s expression remained impassive.
The words he had spoken were the same as before—but this time, his tone was different. This time, they dripped with mockery.
As if he thought she had thrown herself into his arms on purpose.
Heat rushed to her cheeks, shame and anger twisting in her chest. Surrounded by so many people, she couldn’t say anything to defend herself.
The moment the elevator reached the ground floor, the employees stepped out one by one.
Leo gave her a sympathetic glance as he exited.
But Myra remained frozen, staring after Tony’s retreating figure. Was this level of hostility really necessary?
A dull ache pulsed from her knee. Looking down, she saw the white gauze now stained red with fresh blood.
A wave of frustration welled up within her.
Clenching her fists, she stepped out of the elevator.
It had been a while since she last saw Estelle.
With her latest film wrapped up, Myra finally invited her out for coffee.
The moment she pushed open the café door, her eyes landed on a familiar figure in the corner—Estelle, seated at their usual spot, dressed in a cap and oversized sunglasses, successfully hiding most of her face.