Chapter 4 Is This About Jealousy

After leaving the office, Lillian discovered Raegan tucked away in a secluded corner.

With a swift motion, Lillian's hand connected sharply with Raegan's cheek. "I'll give you three hundred grand right now. Take it and disappear. Don't pester Wesley anymore." She seethed, barely containing her anger.

It was clear from Wesley's recent behavior that he had feelings for Raegan. Lillian found this unbearable.

The force of the slap turned Raegan's head to the side.

Yet, she stood there quietly, her face void of any reaction.

Looking up, Raegan met Lillian's gaze with a cool indifference. "Miss Morgan, you have nothing to worry about. I am well aware of my place. My resignation has already been submitted."

Lillian eyed her with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. "Is that so? And where do you plan on going after you resign?"

Raegan hadn't considered her next steps. Perhaps she would devote her time to caring for her grandmother. However, her debts were still a pressing concern.

"I might suggest you work for my brother's company. With your looks, you could easily be a secretary there," Lillian offered, her tone laced with a deliberate insult.

Raegan's expression tightened slightly, understanding the underlying insinuation.

"Miss Morgan, I fear my qualifications are too modest for such a position," Raegan declined, tactfully sidestepping the offer.

Lillian's eyes narrowed into a glare. "Just stay away from Wesley," she demanded.

Raegan handed back the check Lillian had given her. "Please, take this back. It's not mine to accept."

Lillian was incensed. The audacity of a woman in Raegan's position to act so dignified infuriated her. "Keep your distance from him, or you'll regret it!"

As Raegan walked away, a mix of loneliness and defiance in her step, Lillian's expression softened into a frown. She wondered if the necklace she had seen was intended for Raegan.

This thought startled her, and she quickly dismissed it. "He couldn't possibly be serious about her."

The day had been long and taxing for Raegan. Realizing it was time to leave, she headed for the elevator, only to find Wesley inside as the doors slid open.

"Mr. Powell," she greeted him, maintaining a respectful and distant demeanor, with no intention of sharing the elevator.

Wesley's brow furrowed slightly. "Come in," he insisted.

With Wesley's driver present, Raegan reluctantly stepped inside, and the driver promptly exited.

Wesley's gaze, icy and penetrating, rested on her composed face.

He noticed the faint red mark on her cheek immediately and realized that she had been slapped.

"You've been hurt! What happened?" he observed, concern breaking through his usual cold demeanor as he gently touched the swelling.

Raegan dismissed his concern with a shake of her head. "It's nothing. Just a little accident with a door frame."

"Wait for me at my apartment tonight," Wesley commanded, then without another word, he left the elevator. His presence, as always, was commanding as he quickly disappeared into the car waiting outside.

Raegan trailed behind him silently, but unlike him, she made her way back to her own home on foot.

Their paths diverged, as if their lives had never crossed, resembling two lines that run forever parallel.

That evening, at Miranda's insistence, Wesley took Lillian out to dinner before driving her home. Only then did he head to his apartment.

He unlocked the door to find darkness enveloping the space, his mood immediately souring.

He dialed Raegan, his tone icy. "Where are you?"

"I'm at home," came Raegan's calm reply.

"Be at my apartment in thirty minutes," Wesley commanded, then ended the call before she could respond.

Raegan, already in bed, hesitated. She didn't want to leave the warmth of her bed, but it seemed a conversation was unavoidable. Reluctantly, she dressed and stepped out into the night.

A taxi ride later, she was at his apartment, her fingerprint granting her entry. As she reached for the light switch, her wrist was seized, and suddenly she was enveloped in Wesley's embrace, his scent unmistakable.

Wesley's grip on her chin was firm, his kisses demanding.

Pressed against the wall, Raegan protested weakly, "No... Stop!"

Wesley's gaze was intense, his voice a blend of anger and desire. "No? You don't have the right to refuse me. If I want it, you must submit. And..." His sneer was chilling. "You're dressed to tempt me, aren't you?"

Raegan, in nothing but an oversized T-shirt dress, found herself at a loss for words.

Wesley could undress her easily, but he chose not to.

Instead, he held her gaze intently. "You know what I want."

Their relationship spanned three years, a period during which he had come to know every inch of her, just as she had learned to understand his desires.

Now, it was clear he expected her to cater to his whims.

Yet, Raegan remained still.

She met his gaze with newfound boldness, asking directly, "Are you upset?"

The room fell into a tense silence.

Wesley's eyes smoldered with irritation. "After everything I've given you, you're talking about leaving? What makes you think you have the right?"

"Mr. Powell, our arrangement was set for two years. We've already surpassed that," Raegan responded, her gaze steady and assertive. "You should focus on building a life with Lillian Morgan now."

"Lillian?" Wesley echoed her words, his tone laced with disdain. "Is she the reason you're choosing to end things with me?"

"You're engaged. It's not right for us to continue like this," Raegan reasoned, maintaining her stance.

A smirk played on Wesley's lips. "Is this about jealousy? You can't stand the thought of me having a fiancée?"

Raegan quickly corrected him. "No, it's not that..."