Sharlyn Swan stepped into the Sky Corporation building with her usual graceful stride, though her face clearly betrayed the anger she was holding in.

 For weeks, she had been trying to reach Marchos Alexander calling again and again but the man hadn't answered even once.

"Useless bastard…" she muttered under her breath, gritting her teeth. "Just like that, you throw me away, Marchos?"

Her steps halted the moment the elevator doors slid open. Her eyes locked on a familiar figure at the far end of the corridor, a woman carrying a tray, wearing a café apron, and smiling softly.

Sharlyn Swan straightened, her eyes widening.

 "No way… that girl?" she whispered in disbelief.

Without wasting a second, she descended to the lower floor and headed straight for Edward's Brew Café. The little bell above the door chimed softly as she entered, drawing everyone's attention.

Dyana Rosey, who was taking a customer's order, quickly approached her table.

 

"Welcome. What would you like to drink, miss?" she asked politely, her voice calm and courteous.

But Sharlyn Swan only gave a crooked smile, leaning back in her chair.

 "Well… well…" she said loud enough for everyone to hear. "So, are you selling your body to Marchos now?"

The words cut through the air like a blade.

Dyana froze, her face paling instantly. The café, once filled with chatter, fell into an uneasy silence.

"What did you just say?" Dyana Rosey's voice trembled, but she tried to remain composed.

Before Sharlyn Swan could reply, Hash stormed over, his eyes blazing with anger.

 

"Watch your mouth, lady!" he barked, his voice echoing through the café. "If you came here just to stir up trouble, get out before I throw you out!"

Sharlyn Swan let out a low, mocking laugh. "Oh, so now you have a bodyguard?"

Dyana Swan quickly grabbed Hash's arm, pulling him back to calm him down. But inside, her chest was pounding not out of fear, but humiliation and fury.

Sharlyn sat there with that same venomous smile curling her lips. She now knew for sure Marchos Alexander had chosen to side with this woman named Dyana Rosey.

 And that was something she would never forgive.

Hash clenched his jaw, his tone sharp and warning.

 "If you're here just to cause problems, you better leave. This is the second time I've seen you make a scene."

His voice was firm, enough to make some of the customers whisper among themselves. Sharlyn simply crossed her legs and smirked.

"Problems?" she repeated mockingly, laughing under her breath. "I just came for coffee, not a fight. Besides…" she leaned forward slightly, her eyes glinting coldly, "there's nothing between me and that man anymore. I just feel sorry for people who think they can replace me so easily."

Dyana Rosey took a deep breath, her fists tightening around the tray she was holding. Her cheeks flushed with anger, but she kept her tone even.

 "Enough, Miss Sharlyn. I don't know what you're trying to prove, but please don't drag me into your past, especially not with him."

The café grew deathly silent. Hash stood beside Dyana Rosey, ready to step in if needed.

Sharlyn slowly rose from her seat, her lips curving into a taunting smile.

 "Relax, sweetheart," she whispered close to Dyana's ear. "But believe me a man like Marchos Alexander won't look at a low-class girl for long. He'll get bored… and when that happens, you'll know exactly how it feels to be thrown away."

She turned and walked out, the sharp click of her heels echoing across the café.

Dyana stood frozen, her head bowed. Hash looked at her with sympathy.

 "Don't take it to heart, Dyan. A woman like her isn't even worth mentioning your name."

Sharlyn Swan stormed into the elevator, her face flushed red with rage. The click of her high heels against the marble floor echoed in rhythm with her pounding heartbeat.

"How dare she humiliate me in public…" she hissed under her breath, her eyes burning with fury.

When the elevator reached the top floor, the doors opened and she marched straight out. She knew exactly where to go to his office. Marchos Alexander's office. The man who once made her feel like the center of his world… then discarded her without a word.

But her steps came to an abrupt stop.

In front of the grand office doors stood Mr. Jack, Marchos Alexander's ever-stoic personal assistant known for his cold expression and zero tolerance for nonsense.

"Miss Sharlyn," he greeted flatly, his sharp gaze scanning her from head to toe. 

"Mr. Marchos is busy. You can't go in."

Sharlyn scoffed, tossing her hair back arrogantly.

 "Busy?" she sneered. "Or just too much of a coward to face me?"

Mr. Jack didn't move an inch. "I advise you not to make a scene. This is a workplace, not a place for you to vent your emotions."

"Emotions?" Sharlyn let out a sharp laugh. "Do you even know who you're working for? That man's not just a coward, he's a worthless piece of trash who throws people away once he's done using them. A useless man!"

Her voice rose higher, drawing the attention of passing employees, who tried to look busy while sneaking glances.

Mr. Jack's expression didn't change, but his tone dropped a few degrees colder.

 "If you don't stop, Miss Sharlyn, I'll have to call security."

Sharlyn stepped closer until her face was just inches from his.

 "Go ahead," she whispered darkly. "But tell your precious boss this I'm not going to sit quietly. He thinks he can ruin my life that easily?"

Mr. Jack met her glare without flinching. Then, in a low voice, he said,

 "I suggest you leave… before you do something you'll regret."

For a few seconds, Sharlyn stared at him, her chest heaving with anger, before she turned sharply on her heels. The sound of her stilettos rang through the hallway as she walked away, leaving behind a thick air of resentment.

But behind the closed office doors, Marchos Alexander had heard every word.

And on his lips, a thin, dangerous smile began to form.

Mr. Jack knocked lightly before entering the luxurious office. The faint scent of expensive cologne and lingering cigar smoke filled the room.

By the tall glass window stood Marchos Alexander, his back to the door, gazing out at the rain-drenched skyline of Vancouver.

Without turning, his deep voice sliced through the silence.

 "How's Mr. Michael?"

Mr. Jack swallowed hard before replying.

 

"He… hasn't given his final answer yet, sir," he said carefully. "But I've arranged a private meeting between you and him. He said he'll come in person tomorrow afternoon."

Marchos finally turned, his dark, piercing eyes glinting with interest. A faint smile curved on his lips.

 "Tomorrow, huh?"

Mr. Jack nodded. "Yes, sir. I believe he doesn't have much of a choice. His company's in bad shape. They need help fast."

Marchos slowly walked toward his desk, his fingers brushing across the smooth glass surface.

 

"Good…" he murmured, almost to himself. "When a man is desperate, he'll bow easily. Just like all the others."

Mr. Jack stood silently, knowing better than to interrupt.

Marchos's smile turned colder.

 "Make sure the meeting goes smoothly. No interruptions. I want him to understand that if he wants to save his company…"

 

He paused, lowering his gaze.

 "…he'll have to sacrifice something far more valuable."

Mr. Jack nodded once. "Understood, sir. I'll handle everything."

As soon as the door closed behind him, Marchos turned back to the window. 

Raindrops streaked down the glass, glimmering against the city lights.

"Be ready, my dear Rosey…" he whispered with a cruel smile. "The game has only just begun."