Loading promotion info...
When the Don chose his first love, I walked away.
Novelix
Completed
The party was for our three-year anniversary. Wesley—godfather of the Costa family—had brought his first love, Jessica. Halfway through the evening, someone suggested a round of "Never Have I Ever." Jessica's cheeks were flushed pink from drinking. She looked right at me, a challenge in her eyes. "I've been pregnant with Wesley's child." The friends around us went suddenly quiet. My hand froze on my glass. She added, slow and deliberate: "More than once. And he was the one who took me to every procedure."
Chapters (4)
第1章
The party was for our three-year anniversary. Wesley—godfather of the Costa family—had brought his first love, Jessica.
Halfway through the evening, someone suggested a round of "Never Have I Ever."
Jessica's cheeks were flushed pink from drinking. She looked right at me, a challenge in her eyes.
"I've been pregnant with Wesley's child."
The friends around us went suddenly quiet.
My hand froze on my glass.
She added, slow and deliberate:
"More than once. And he was the one who took me to every procedure."
I looked at Wesley.
His face went white. His lips moved, but he didn't say a single word to deny it.
I stared at the text box on my phone—the proposal I'd been about to send.
My finger hovered over the screen for a long time.
In the end, I calmly deleted it.
I excused myself to the restroom and booked the next flight to Paris.
Wesley didn't notice a thing. He even texted me: "Jessica's drunk. Come help her up. Stop being difficult."
I didn't reply.
At dawn, the plane took off.
This time, I only bought a one-way ticket.
...
When the plane landed, it had just rained in Paris.
I turned my phone back on, and Wesley's messages popped up one after another.
"Fannie, where are you?"
"Jessica's not feeling well. How could you just leave her alone in the restroom?"
"It's just an anniversary. You can always celebrate again. Don't make a scene over this."
The last message was from three in the morning.
"Where the hell did you go?"
I stood in the airport terminal, dragging my suitcase, staring at those words for a few seconds. Then I typed back one line.
"None of your business."
The moment the message sent, my phone rang.
I didn't answer.
He called again.
On the third try, I picked up.
Wesley's voice was heavy, ragged from a sleepless night.
"Fannie, where are you?"
"Paris."
Two seconds of silence on his end.
"Jessica says a few drunk things and you fly to Paris overnight?"
I tucked my passport into my bag. My voice was flat.
"She wasn't drunk when she said it, was she."
His breath hitched.
I heard a lighter click, then quickly snap shut.
"That was all in the past."
"Does being in the past make it nothing?"
He seemed to lose patience, his tone turning cold.
"Fannie, I'm under no obligation to account for every single thing that happened before I met you."
I let out a quiet hm.
"Then I'm under no obligation to stay."
Wesley was silent for a moment, as though he'd finally wrestled his temper under control.
"Stop saying things you don't mean. Send me your address. I'll have a driver take you to a hotel. Get some rest. I'll fly out tomorrow."
"No need."
"Fannie."
He bit down on my name, like a warning not to push him.
"Three years. You should know my limits by now. I don't tolerate people using disappearance as a threat."
I looked through the airport glass at the wet sky outside and suddenly remembered the scene in the party hall last night.
When Jessica said those words, everyone was watching me.
And Wesley hadn't denied it.
He'd only been silent.
Sometimes silence is harder to accept than an admission.
I tightened my grip on the suitcase handle.
"Wesley, I'm not threatening you."
Jessica's voice drifted through from his end, hazy and soft.
"Wesley, my head hurts."
Wesley immediately murmured back to her.
"Drink some water."
When he spoke to me again, there was impatience in his tone.
"You heard her. She drank too much last night and she's still feeling sick. Can you please not cause problems right now?"
I laughed a little.
"So me leaving counts as causing problems."
"Fannie, you know that's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?"
He faltered.
I didn't wait for his answer.
"Take care of her. I need to check in."
"Fannie, don't you dare hang up on me."
I hung up.
My phone buzzed a few more times. I put it on silent.
My professor's assistant was standing at the exit holding a sign. When she spotted me, she called my name.
I walked over, and she smiled as she took my luggage.
"Ms. Fannie, welcome back. The gallery is all set up. Professor says if you're willing to stay this time, the lead designer position at the studio has always been yours."
I gripped the ring box in my bag.
Before last night, I'd been planning to propose to Wesley on our anniversary.
That ring—I'd designed it myself.
On the inside of the band, in very small letters, it read:
Only you.
Now it sat at the bottom of my bag, pressing hard against my palm.
I looked up at the grey-blue sky.
"I'll stay."
The assistant smiled.
"That's wonderful."
My phone screen lit up again.
Wesley.
"When you're done throwing your tantrum, come back. Jessica has a follow-up appointment tomorrow. I don't have time to comfort you."
I stared at those words for a long time, until the screen dimmed and lit up again on its own.
The sentence was like a needle, precise, slipping into the corner of me I'd thought was solid, spreading a fine, sharp pain.
So there were things he couldn't even be bothered to explain to me. Parts of his past he'd never intended to let me see.
This time, I wasn't going back.
第2章
I was halfway through the on boarding paperwork when Wesley's video call came in.
My professor glanced at my phone.
"Need to take it?"
I shook my head.
"No."
The screen lit and dimmed, dimmed and lit.
The assistant slid the contract in front of me.
"Ms. Fannie, this brand collaboration requires your real name as the signatory. All partner organizations will also publish it publicly. Is that all right?"
My fingertip paused.
The partner was a jewelry brand under the Costa family's umbrella.
Three months ago, I'd been the one to broker this project for Wesley.
Back then he'd said:
"Once this collab is a success, we'll get married."
I'd thought it was a promise.
Looking back now, it was just a piece of candy he'd tossed me.
I signed my name.
"Fine."
The moment I set down the pen, a message from Wesley popped up.
"Answer the phone."
I didn't respond.
A second later, a friend request from Jessica appeared.
The note was a single line:
"Hey sis, Wesley's going crazy looking for you. Don't make him worry."
I stared at the word "worry" and tapped Accept.
She responded quickly with a photo.
In it, Wesley sat in a hospital corridor, holding a payment receipt. Jessica's hand rested on his sleeve, her nails painted a pale pink.
"Don't get the wrong idea, sis. It's just a follow-up appointment."
"My body took a hit back then, you know. Wesley's always felt pretty guilty about it."
I didn't reply.
She sent another message.
"I drank too much last night and said things I shouldn't have. If it bothers you, I can apologize."
Then she recalled a message.
But I still saw it.
"Though he really was so worried about me back then. He signed the surgery consent forms himself."
I set my phone face-down on the desk.
My professor asked.
"Feeling okay?"
I said.
"I'm fine."
He studied me for a few seconds, then handed me a design brief.
"This is the theme the domestic team proposed. It's called Old Love Reunited. See if it's something you can work with."
The moment I flipped the page open, I saw the note in the bottom right corner.
Primary visual reference: Jessica.
I stared at those three syllables and suddenly felt like laughing.
Wesley really knew how to arrange things.
I do the design work. He makes Jessica the muse.
That evening, back at the apartment, I'd barely unzipped my suitcase when the doorbell rang.
A courier handed me an international express package.
Sender: Wesley.
Inside was a white cashmere scarf.
And a note.
"It's cold in Paris. Don't catch a cold. Come back when you've cooled off."
The scarf was new.
Tags still on.
But the scent was familiar.
It was the perfume Jessica had been wearing last night.
I opened social media.
Jessica had posted a photo half an hour ago.
"Someone bought two scarves—said one's for me, one's to make peace."
People were teasing her in the comments.
"Classic Wesley."
Jessica replied:
"Oh stop. He said I'm fragile, so he let me pick first."
I put the scarf back in the box.
Wesley's call came again.
This time I answered.
His voice had softened a bit.
"Get the package?"
"I did."
"Like it?"
I looked at the trash can.
"Jessica's reject?"
A beat of silence on the other end.
"Fannie, do you have to talk like that?"
"How else should I talk?"
He was working hard not to sound angry.
"I sent you something because I'm trying to make it up to you. Not so you can pick it apart."
"Wesley, you know I'm allergic to wool."
He seemed to choke on that.
A few seconds passed before he said:
"I forgot."
Forgot.
Such a light word.
Three years hadn't been enough for him to remember.
I set the delivery box by the door.
"Next time, just don't bother sending anything."
"Fannie."
His voice went cold.
"The collab meeting is online next week. I suggest you sort out your emotions. Business is business—don't bring personal issues into it."
I looked down at the signature on the contract.
"Don't worry."
I hung up and took the ring box out of my bag.
Under the lamp, the ring sat there quietly, as though mocking me for being a joke.
I locked it in the drawer.
As the key turned, my phone buzzed.
The jewelry brand's official account had posted a new update.
"The Old Love Reunited collection is launching soon. Special inspiration guest: Jessica."
第3章
The online meeting was set to begin. Wesley was ten minutes late.
When the screen lit up, the family boardroom was visible behind him.
Jessica sat beside him, draped in that white cashmere scarf.
She smiled into the camera.
"Fannie, it's been so long! You look like you've lost so much weight in Paris."
I opened my files.
"Let's begin."
Wesley frowned.
"Nothing else to say?"
I looked at him.
"What would you like to hear?"
The conference room went quiet for a moment.
Wesley's expression darkened half a shade.
Jessica immediately smoothed things over.
"Wesley, don't be like that. Fannie's still mad at me."
She pulled the scarf a little higher, her voice pitched just right—soft, disarming.
"Fannie, what happened that night was really my fault. But the past can't be changed. Don't blame Wesley—he was in a difficult position back then too."
I capped my pen.
"Ms. Jessica, today we're discussing design. Not gynecological history."
Someone on the other end ducked their head and coughed.
Wesley's gaze turned icy.
"Fannie, watch your language."
I looked up.
"She can announce it publicly at my anniversary dinner, but I can't ask her to be quiet in a meeting?"
Jessica's eyes immediately went red.
"That's not what I meant. I just thought since the theme is old love reunited, maybe my experiences could help with the design."
Wesley pushed a cup of warm water toward her hand.
"Don't cry."
Then he looked at me.
"Jessica is the inspiration guest for this project. You'll take her input."
I pulled up the design file.
"Fine."
I shared my draft on screen.
"I'd like to propose changing the theme to Broken Ring. Old love isn't about reunion—it's about misalignment. The band splits in the center, bridged by cold white gold. Visually, the gap remains."
The brand's marketing director perked up.
"That's a sophisticated concept."
But Jessica let out a soft laugh.
"Wouldn't a gap be a bit unlucky, though? Didn't Wesley say he wanted this collection to feel bittersweet but complete?"
Wesley looked at the screen, his tone flat.
"Make it a full circle."
I said.
"A full circle has no distinction."
"The client wants sales, not your feelings."
He tapped the table.
"Fannie, you haven't been stable lately. Don't be stubborn."
I looked at his hand.
That hand used to hold mine while we sketched ring designs together.
He'd said:
"Your work has thorns and light. That's what I love most about it."
Now he was telling me to pull out the thorns. To accommodate Jessica's idea of wholeness.
My professor spoke up.
"Mr. Wesley, Fannie's concept aligns more closely with international aesthetics."
Wesley's expression didn't change.
"Marketing is my responsibility. I say change it."
Jessica said softly.
"Maybe just drop it. She doesn't like me. She won't accept anything I suggest."
Wesley turned to me.
"Apologize to Jessica."
I thought I'd misheard.
"What?"
"She was only offering a suggestion. You embarrassed her in front of everyone."
I laughed.
"Wesley, you're asking me to apologize to her in a business meeting?"
"This is a professional setting."
"And?"
He fixed his eyes on me, every word deliberate.
"So don't make me question whether you have any professional conduct at all."
No one in the room spoke.
Jessica kept her eyes lowered, but the corner of her mouth curved just slightly upward.
I closed the screen-share.
"Ms. Jessica, I'm sorry."
Wesley's gaze relaxed a fraction.
I continued.
"I'm sorry I underestimated your ability to package your personal life as professional input."
Jessica went pale.
Wesley shot to his feet.
"Fannie!"
I pulled out my earpiece.
"Meeting's adjourned. I'll submit my revision notes in writing."
Before I disconnected, I heard Wesley's voice, tight with fury.
"You'd better think about the consequences."
The screen went black.
My professor was quiet for a moment, then said:
"Has he always spoken to you like that?"
I looked at my hands.
My fingertips were ice cold.
"No."
He used to introduce me to everyone.
He'd say:
"This is Fannie. The most important person in my life—and the best designer I know."
At some point, the most important person had become a contractor who could be reprimanded in public.
My phone screen lit up.
A message from Wesley.
"Give Jessica a formal apology by tonight. Otherwise the lead designer position gets reassigned."
I stared at it for a long time. Then replied.
"Do what you want."
Five minutes later, an email was CC'd to my inbox.
Lead designer: Jessica.
Special consultant: Fannie.
第4章
The launch event was set for one week later.
Wesley required me to attend.
My professor placed the invitation on the desk.
"You can decline."
I looked at the words Special Consultant on the card.
"I'll go."
He frowned.
"Fannie, you don't have to tolerate this kind of humiliation."
I took the ring box from the drawer and slipped it into my bag.
"Some things need to be returned in person."
The day I flew back, Wesley was at the airport to pick me up.
He wore a black overcoat, standing tall among the crowd, his features sharp and cold.
When he saw me, he stepped forward to take my luggage.
I moved away.
His hand hung in the air. His expression darkened.
"Still not done?"
I pulled my suitcase toward the exit.
He followed.
"The lead designer change—you brought it on yourself. If you'd just apologized to Jessica properly, I could have put your name back."
"No need."
"Fannie."
He caught my wrist—not hard, but firm enough that I couldn't pull free.
"You didn't used to be like this."
I looked at him.
"You didn't used to put another woman in my seat."
Something shifted in his eyes.
Quickly, he smoothed it away.
"Jessica's only filling in temporarily. She's not well, and her career is just starting. I'm helping her out."
I nodded.
"You've always been very good at helping her."
His brow creased.
"How long are you going to keep dredging up the past?"
"Until it stops hurting, I suppose."
He released my wrist, as if my words had stung him.
In the car, Jessica turned around from the passenger seat.
"What a coincidence! I just happened to come along to pick you up too."
She was wearing Wesley's jacket.
The sleeves were too long, covering her hands.
Wesley leaned over and fastened her seatbelt.
"She gets carsick. She needs the front."
I sat in the back without a word.
Halfway through the drive, Jessica suddenly pressed a hand to her lower abdomen.
"Wesley, it hurts."
Wesley immediately pulled over.
"Where's your medication?"
"In my bag."
He rummaged through her purse with the ease of someone who'd done it a hundred times before.
Jessica watched me in the rearview mirror, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Don't mind me. The surgeries left some issues. Wesley's just used to looking after me."
I turned to the window.
Wesley's hand paused on the medication bottle.
"Jessica."
She went quiet immediately, eyes reddening.
"Sorry. I said the wrong thing again."
Wesley didn't scold her. He just murmured:
"Drink some water."
Backstage at the launch, everything was chaos.
I'd just finished changing when a staff member brought me a badge.
"Ms. Fannie, here's your seat."
I looked down.
Special Consultant. Second row, end seat.
Jessica walked over. Her badge read: Lead Designer.
She touched the nameplate on her chest.
"Honestly, sis, I didn't expect Wesley to trust me this much either."
She leaned in slightly.
"But don't worry. I won't take what's yours."
I looked at her.
"Haven't you taken enough?"
Her smile faded slightly.
"He gave those things willingly."