The Wrong Woman

Candice's gasp echoed through the room, her hands flying to her mouth in disbelief as she struggled to comprehend the unfolding scene.

Elio's chilling presence was so overpowering that it reduced the arrogant man to trembling silence. He bowed his head in submission, too terrified to speak. Every word Elio spoke carried an icy intensity, freezing the air around them. "If you're thirsty, get your own drink. Don't expect my team to cater to your needs."

The words "my team" echoed through Candice like an explosion, stirring a blend of nervousness and anticipation that hastened her heartbeat.

While she understood that Elio was referring to his subordinates from headquarters as "my team", she couldn't help but feel a rush of satisfaction.From NôvelDrama.Org.

Terrified and flustered, the man swiftly bowed and offered an apology. "I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Hoffis, I've made a mistake."

Elio's demeanor remained icy as he turned and walked away without acknowledging Candice, leaving her bewildered.

Despite Elio's intervention in reprimanding his subordinate, Candice couldn't shake the sense that his attitude toward her remained distant and unpredictable, alternating between cold and warm. Once Elio had left, Candice knelt down to help the man gather the scattered dollar bills.

Visibly shaken, the man's apologies tumbled out in a frantic rush. "I-I'm truly sorry, I didn't mean to cause any trouble. I can handle it myself..."

His demeanor toward Candice now bore an added layer of fear and apprehension.

Standing up, Candice turned her gaze back toward Elio, feeling a rush of concern wash over her.

Had he recovered from last night's heavy drinking? Was he feeling unwell today?

Lost in her thoughts, she observed him closely as he carried out his tasks, her expression distant.

Elio's work ethic was characterized by an unparalleled level of seriousness and gravitas, radiating an aura that commanded respect.

Sensing someone's gaze upon him, Elio briefly turned, only to find no one there.

After a swift survey of his surroundings, his eyes landed on Candice.

"Mr. Hoffis, you have a call." Sean suddenly appeared, his demeanor solemn as he handed Elio the phone.

Elio glanced at the screen, noting the incoming video call from his mother, Michaela.

After a brief moment of hesitation, he finally accepted the phone. With his Bluetooth earpiece in place, he answered the call calmly, "What's the matter?"

"I've already arranged for someone to retrieve Candice. Regardless of your intentions, she needs to return," Michaela's voice asserted firmly through the phone.

"Tell your associates to back off," Elio replied sharply.

Michaela's voice remained composed as she continued, "If you choose not to heed my advice, then I'II..."

Her sentence trailed off as she switched the camera to the rear-facing view, focusing on a large painting hanging on the wall.

Elio's composure faltered as he stepped outside, gripping his phone tightly.

Fighting to contain his frustration, he stood by the fire escape stairwe and admonished, "Get out of room this instant! What do you think you're doing?"

"If you refuse to send Candice back, I'll destroy it," Michaela threatened.

Elio's fists clenched, the veins on the back of his hands standing out prominently.

The painting on the wall held

profound significance-it was a labor of love, painstakingly created over a month during his high school years, portraying Candice's likeness using the letters of her name.

It remained a cherished fixture in his room ever since.

In the past, Elio had treasured numerous small gifts from Candice, only for Michaela to destroy them all in acts of manipulation.

Now, this painting remained as the final tangible connection he had to Candice.

"Keep your hands away," Elio growled, his words pronounced with precision.

"Bring Candice back now," Michaela demanded sternly from the other end of the line.

"That's not happening," Elio replied firmly, his resolve unyielding.

In response, Michaela retrieved a pair of scissors and mercilessly punctured the glass frame.

The room echoed with a resounding crash as the frame housing the painting shattered into pieces, symbolizing the breaking of Elio's heart.

Numbness consumed him entirely as he clenched his fists, his eyes swollen and red with suppressed tears.

Keeping his gaze fixed on the screen, Elio watched helplessly as Michaela continued her relentless attack on his beloved artwork.

Intense agony seized him, transforming each breath into a struggle for air.

His fists quivered slightly, trembling beneath the weight of his torment.

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