Prim's Side
The iron gates had just begun to open when the car slowed.
A woman suddenly stepped into the headlights.
The driver hit the brakes.
Prim lifted his eyes, irritation flickering briefly before it flattened into indifference. Through the glass, he recognized her almost immediately.
The woman from his father's car.
Mary.
She smiled the moment she saw him, the kind of smile practiced in mirrors—soft, deliberate, slightly nervous in a way meant to look sincere. She walked closer and tapped lightly on the window.
The glass slid down.
For a split second, her expression faltered when she saw his face clearly.
Damn it…
Why does Nathan Carter's bloodline look like this?
The thought passed quickly, replaced by resolve.
She straightened.
"Hi," she said warmly, then pretended to catch herself, cheeks coloring just enough to be noticeable.
"I mean— I'm your dad."
She froze.
"—Secretary," she corrected quickly, laughing lightly as if embarrassed by the slip.
Prim leaned back against the seat, eyes unreadable.
"And?" he asked.
The single word knocked the air out of her prepared rhythm.
Mary blinked once, then smiled again—wider this time, softer, her voice lowering.
"I was just thinking… maybe we could have coffee sometime. Get to know each other."
She tilted her head slightly, careful to look harmless.
"Why?" Prim asked.
The smile finally cracked.
Just a little.
Seriously, she cursed inwardly.
He and Ava really are twins. Same trashy mouth.
She forced herself to recover, lips trembling faintly as if hurt.
"Well… I thought it would be nice," she said gently. "We're… connected now, in a way."
Prim didn't respond.
The silence stretched, pressing against her nerves memory surged forward—sharp, humiliating, unwanted what ava made her feel minutes ago .
Flashback
Mary had stepped into the Carter manor with her breath caught in her throat.
Luxury surrounded her—quiet, expensive, suffocating.
She had seen wealth before. Being Nathan Carter's secretary ensured that. But this was different. This wasn't money meant to impress outsiders.
This was legacy.
Her heels echoed softly as she looked around, fingers curling slightly in excitement.
A single night, she thought.
And I'm already standing here.
A voice cut through her thoughts.
"Who are you looking for?"
Mary turned.
A girl stood halfway down the staircase.
Beautiful.
Not the loud kind of beauty. Not something flashy or cultivated. It was the kind that made people lower their voices instinctively.
Ava Carter.
Mary smiled immediately.
"Hi," she said, smoothing her hair. "I'm Mary."
She paused deliberately, letting the name sit.
She knew the rumors were already spreading. The photo—blurry, deleted, but enough. No woman had ever been seen entering Nathan Carter's private residence before.
That alone made a statement.
"I work with your father," she added lightly.
Ava looked at her for a moment, then smiled.
"Oh," she said calmly.
"You're that woman people say is my dad's mistress."
Mary's breath hitched.
She blushed on cue.
"Don't believe nonsense on the internet," she said quickly, waving it off with a laugh that sounded just a bit too eager. "People love to exaggerate."
As she spoke, her hand brushed through her hair—just enough to reveal the faint mark near her collarbone.
A hickey.
Denied with words, confirmed with body language.
Ava scoffed.
"Leave," she said plainly. "We don't let irrelevant people into this house."
Mary's smile wavered.
"Your father told me to come," she said, voice softening, eyes glistening. "If he knew you were chasing me away, he'd be angry."
Ava didn't look at her again.
Instead, she turned slightly toward the butler.
"Let the dogs out," Ava said calmly.
"If she doesn't leave, they can keep her company. She's no different from one."
Mary's blood ran cold.
Ava turned back to her then, gaze sharp and unhurried.
"You're an employee," Ava continued. "Even John doesn't step into this house. And you think you can?"
She stepped closer—not aggressive, not rushed.
"You're nothing more than a woman warming someone else's bed," Ava said evenly.
"Do you really think he'd divorce my mother for you?"
Her eyes swept over Mary slowly.
"Have you ever looked at yourself in a mirror? Or can't you afford one?"
Mary clenched her fists.
"You're cheap," Ava continued. "Your act is obvious. And trying to win me over?"
She tilted her head slightly.
"Do I look like a child you can fool?"
Mary's voice trembled, tears welling up—real this time, or close enough.
"What your father and I have is real," she said stubbornly. "We love each other."
Ava smiled faintly.
"I'm not here to replace your mother," Mary continued quickly. "I just want to get to know you. Who knows… I might be your new mom someday."
Ava's smile vanished.
She lifted her phone.
Mary panicked and lunged forward, grabbing for it.
Ava caught her by the hair instead.
"Don't," Ava said quietly.
Her grip tightened.
"If you even think about marrying my father," Ava whispered,
"or staying in this country one more day—"
She leaned closer.
"—you'll join the list of missing people."
She shoved Mary back and turned away, dialing calmly as she ascended the stairs.
Moments later, the sound of heavy paws thundered across the floor.
Mary didn't remember how she got out.
Only the terror.
Only the humiliation.
Only the warmth spreading down her legs as everything collapsed.
End of Flashback
Mary inhaled slowly, forcing her trembling hands to still.
She couldn't lose composure now.
Win one of them, she told herself. Just one.
"I know the news about me and your father has spread," Mary said carefully, voice soft, wounded. "And I know you hate me."
Prim didn't even look at her properly.
"I don't have the energy to hate people," he replied flatly. "Especially someone like you."
The words landed harder than shouting ever could.
Mary bit her lip.
"I know you hate me because I'm with your dad," she said, forcing tears into her eyes. "But can't you see? Your parents were never meant to be. Even without me, there would be other women."
Prim finally looked at her.
Slowly. Thoroughly.
"And?" he asked.
Mary blinked.
"So there are other women," Prim continued calmly. "You're not the only one."
His gaze swept over her from head to toe.
"So what made you think you're special?"
He leaned slightly forward.
"Because you don't look special to me at all."
Mary stiffened.
Prim frowned faintly, then covered his nose with two fingers.
"And—" he added mildly, "you smell."
Mary froze.
"Did you pee yourself?" Prim asked, genuinely curious. "My father's taste really needs questioning."
The driver lowered his head, shoulders shaking.
Prim turned casually toward him.
"Next time a dirty stray dog blocks the gate," he said indifferently, "drive straight through. She should know jumping in front of a moving car can get her killed."
Mary's face drained of color.
Prim rolled the window up.
"Security needs replacing," he added calmly as the car moved forward. "Letting trash this close to the gate is unacceptable."
The car disappeared into the manor grounds.
Mary stood there—alone, humiliated, invisible.
She stomped her foot in frustration, tears spilling freely now, then turned and left.
She showered twice at home.
Changed clothes.
Reapplied makeup.
By the time her phone vibrated, she had almost convinced herself she still had control.
You have been terminated. Effective immediately.
Mary's vision went white.
"No… no—"
She grabbed her keys and drove straight to the tallest building in the country.
Nathan Carter Empire.
The headquarters of everything that mattered.
The moment she stepped inside, the stares hit her.
Whispers followed.
She ignored them and marched toward her office—only to stop dead.
Security was packing her things into boxes.
"What are you doing?!" Mary screamed.
A woman turned around slowly, lips curled in a smirk.
"We're clearing your desk," Maria said. "You're no longer needed."
Mary's blood boiled.
"So this is your doing?" she yelled. "Who do you think you are to fire me? I'm the president's woman. You're just a secretary!"
The room went silent.
Eyes widened.
"So it's really her…"
"She slept with the CEO?"
Phones stayed down—not because they weren't interested, but because they valued their jobs.
Mary lifted her chin, pride swelling.
"Touch my things again," she snapped at Maria, "and see what happens."
Maria smiled.
"I dare," she said calmly. "And no, I didn't fire you."
She stepped closer.
"Chairman brown Carter ordered HR to terminate you personally."
Mary's smile cracked.
"If you were really the president's mistress," Maria continued coldly, "you wouldn't be fired through HR. And the president would've stopped it."
She tilted her head.
"Unless… the photo was fake and you were just chasing attention."
Mary slapped her.
Maria slapped her right back.
They lunged at each other, nails and screams filling the room—
"Enough."
The voice was cold. Absolute.
Everyone froze.
John stood at the entrance.
"You're gossiping and fighting," he said calmly, eyes sweeping the room. "In a workplace."
He pointed.
"Executive. Director. Team leader. Secretary."
Ten people.
"You're all fired u stay in high positions yet behave like this is your backyard can't even stop a fight."
The room collapsed into stunned silence.
Maria swallowed hard.
"Maria," John said flatly. "Make sure their things are packed. If not—join them."
She nodded frantically.
"As for you," John looked at Mary without emotion, "pack your belongings and leave. Don't embarrass yourself further."
He turned and walked away.
People not named slowly sank into their chairs, legs trembling.
Those named stood frozen—heads of departments, executives—erased in seconds.
Maria rushed toward HR.
John entered the elevator and dialed Nathan.
"She took the bait," he said calmly. "She'll contact her backer."
A pause.
"I also cleaned out several spies and connection hires. They'll panic now and leave trace even their backer too will think we are on them and try to do something."
Another pause.
"And the Chen family, and those that think my company are trash they can keep spies and those wokers abusing their positions" Nathan's voice said coldly, "destroy them. Quickly."
The call ended.
Mary collapsed to the floor.
Her world shattered.
Hands shaking, she dialed Chen Yulan.
No connection.
Panic seized her.
She ran out of the building, got into her car, and drove straight to the golf club—
The only place left.
Mary arrived at the upper-class golf clubhouse in a rush, heels clicking sharply against the polished marble floor. The place was quiet in the way only the truly elite preferred—soft music, restrained voices, and an air that made people lower their heads without realizing it.
She went straight to the reception desk.
"I need access to Level Seven," Mary said, tapping the counter impatiently. "Now."
The receptionist, a woman in a neat uniform with a calm smile, didn't flinch. "Level Seven is a VVIP area, ma'am. I'll need your membership card, ID, and fingerprint verification to check if you're registered."
"I'm here to see someone," Mary replied tightly. "Chen Yulan."
The receptionist nodded, fingers moving lightly over the screen. "Does Mr. Chen know you're coming? If he hasn't issued a visitor pass, you'll need to contact him directly for a temporary access pin—provided you're a registered member."
The explanation went on, professional and unhurried.
Mary's patience snapped.
"Enough with your nonsense," she snapped, running a hand through her hair. "Do you know who I am? I'm Nathan Carter's future wife. I'm a VIP. A very important one."
A few nearby staff glanced over before quickly looking away.
The receptionist studied Mary for a brief moment, then smiled politely. "Of course, ma'am. If you're a VIP member, we'll verify your details. You may enter Mr. Chen's pin here while I confirm."
Mary clenched her jaw. "I don't have my card with me. Check the system."
Her fingerprint was scanned. Her name appeared—registered, but with restricted access.
The receptionist made a call to the villa line where Chen Yulan was staying. After a short pause, she ended the call and looked back up.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. Mr. Chen isn't available at the moment."
Mary's expression darkened. "That's a lie."
"I assure you—"
"Call him again," Mary raised her voice. "Tell him I'm here."
"I can't," the receptionist said calmly. "He's not receiving visitors."
Mary forced a smile, sharp and unnatural. "Fine. Then I'll go golfing."
Before the receptionist could respond, Mary turned and headed toward the elevators.
"Ma'am—" the receptionist pressed her headset. "Security, please stop the woman in white. She's attempting to enter the restricted area."
Mary ignored the warning. She exited the elevator on the private floor, spotted the parked golf carts, and tossed a thick stack of cash at a stunned worker before jumping into one and driving off toward the villa zone.
She barely made it past the boundary.
Security surrounded her within seconds.
"I'm a guest!" Mary screamed, struggling. "I know Chen Yulan!"
She caught a glimpse of a figure at a villa window—someone watching.
The guards moved quickly. A taser buzzed. Pain shot through her body as she collapsed, screaming, before being restrained and dragged back toward the gates.
"Wait."
The single word cut through the chaos.
John stepped forward, expression cold, composed. He flashed his identification card. The guards immediately straightened.
"She's with me," John said calmly.
The security team stiffened. "Understood, sir."
John glanced once at Mary on the ground. "Take her to Golf Villa One."
He turned and walked away, already getting into his own golf cart.
From his villa window, Chen Yulan watched the scene unfold, his brows knitting slightly.
When Mary regained consciousness, she was lying on an impossibly soft bed. The room was modern and restrained—glass walls, abstract art, muted tones of gray and gold. Beyond the glass, the green golf fields stretched endlessly.
Her gaze locked onto a familiar figure outside.
Nathan Carter.
He stood on the course, calm and composed, speaking to clients as if the world had never tilted for her.
Her heart skipped.
He saved me.
Tears welled in her eyes as she sat up, emotion twisting into something darker.
So I do matter.
The humiliation, the stares, the taser, the laughter—it all burned into resolve.
I'll destroy them all.
Maria.
The receptionist.
The security guards.
Chen Yulan.
Ava.
Prim.
Emily.
Every single one.
A servant knocked softly and led her to the dining area, where an extravagant seafood spread awaited—fresh lobster, oysters, delicate soups. Mary ate slowly, regaining strength, rebuilding her mask piece by piece.
Then the door opened.
Nathan Carter walked in.
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