"Sweetheart, you're not just looking for a husband. You're looking for someone who can protect Fox Group. If he can't survive at the ground level, or if he can't stay loyal to you, then he doesn't deserve you."
At the time, I thought my father was being paranoid.
When Arnold was pursuing me, he'd waited three hours in a downpour just to bring me an umbrella.
In two years together, he'd remembered every anniversary. Even tracked my cycle.
How could he possibly have wandering eyes?
But now, I wasn't so sure.
I wanted to give Arnold a chance to prove himself.
Instead, he started having meals with Stacy. Walking her home.
He even took her to the amusement park to watch fireworks on nights when I was working overtime.
The rumors in the department grew more outrageous by the day.
Some said Stacy was the chairman's daughter. Others claimed my perpetually cold demeanor was because I was jealous of Stacy—the real heiress.
Stacy never denied any of it. She'd just blink those doe eyes and coo:
"Stacy doesn't know anything about that~ I just want to do my job well~"
What made it worse was that after the takeout incident, she started deliberately fabricating gossip about me.
"I saw Anita getting into a luxury car yesterday! The license plate had five eights~"
"I heard back in college she used to... I mean, how else could she have gotten into Fox Group?"
"Oopsie, Stacy's just being silly! If she finds out, will she hit me? I'm so scared~"
Soon after, I started receiving harassing texts. One client even asked my manager directly:
"I heard your team leader Lin sleeps her way to contracts?"
The way my manager looked at me changed. Admiration curdled into disgust.
I found Arnold, hoping he'd vouch that I'd been working overtime every night—that I'd never gotten into any luxury car.
He was helping Stacy fix her computer. He didn't even look up.
"Anita, where there's smoke, there's fire. If there really wasn't anything going on, would the rumors have spread this far? Stacy's so innocent—she'd never lie. Besides..."
He finally looked at me, his eyes full of disappointment. "I saw you get into a black car in the parking lot yesterday myself."
That was my father's driver, picking me up for a family dinner.
But I'd promised my father: during the evaluation period, I couldn't reveal my identity.
I couldn't take it anymore. I told Arnold we were done.
He froze for a moment, then visibly relaxed.