The revolving glass doors of the building turned slowly as Heather stepped through them, clutching a small tote bag and a neat stack of scripts in her arms.
Her heels clicked softly against the marble floor as she made her way to the front desk.
The receptionist looked up from her monitor, while her hands paused mid-typing.
"How can I help you?"
"I'm here to see Mr. Sheng."
"Surname, please?"
Heather raised an eyebrow. "His surname is Sheng."
The woman gave a patient smile. "Your surname, ma'am."
"Oh. It's... Heather. Just Heather."
She paused, but then added, "Tell him Heather's here."
The receptionist nodded, picked up the phone, and dialed. "Hello, Mr. Sheng? There's a woman downstairs asking for you… says her name is Heather. Yes. Alright."
She placed the phone down. "He'll be down to meet you shortly."
Heather gave her a quick nod and stepped aside. Manager Sheng had told her to call the moment she arrived at the company—but of course, his line had gone straight to voicemail.
So here she was, stuck waiting at the reception desk of the very company she owned.
She turned to glance around the building, watching her staffs walk briskly through the lobby, all busy, all in motion—moving within the world she built from scratch. A quiet pride bloomed in her chest.
But then...her eyes landed on her.
She was striding toward the door with the confidence of someone who owned every inch of space she walked through.
Sunglasses on, lips slightly pursed, and flanked by security who moved like she was royalty.
At her side, her personal assistant trailed like a loyal dog, speaking nonstop about something Lauren clearly wasn't listening to.
The doors revolved, and Lauren entered like she was stepping onto a runway. The moment her eyes landed on Heather, she slowed and their gazes locked.
But Heather wasn't staring out of admiration. Her look held something else—cool, steady, unreadable. And that made her smile.
Lauren narrowed her eyes. She hadn't expected to see her here or like this.
"Well, well," Lauren said as she walked toward her. She slid her sunglasses down slowly. "If it isn't the lost heiress." her tone was mocking.
Heather gave her a polite smile. "I've been found."
Lauren's assistant gasped softly beside her. "Oh my gosh, Miss Heather, you look so beautiful."
Heather couldn't help but chuckle, just a little, at the girl's genuine tone.
Lauren turned to glare at the assistant, who immediately shrank back and went quiet. Then she faced Heather again.
"What brings you back?" Lauren asked, though her voice was laced with sarcasm.
Heather took a slow breath, ready to answer.
"You know what? Don't bother. I don't actually give a damn." Lauren's smile sharpened. "But for your sake, you should've stayed gone. People like you don't survive in places where people like me thrive."
Heather's smile widened.
Lauren looked her over again, tilting her head.
"You've, uh... put on a little weight, haven't you?"
Heather laughed out loud this time.
Lauren's expression tightened. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing," Heather said, still smiling. "You're just projecting."
How dare this stupid girl talk to her like that? She thought.
Lauren stepped closer, lips parted in a bitter smirk. "Excuse me?"
"Careful," Heather said, her tone still light. "We're in public. Don't let them see you crack."
Lauren's eyes narrowed to slits. She hated being called out. Heather never spoken to her like this before. She so wanted to teach her a lesson.
Heather knew her well enough to recognize that her patience was hanging by a thread—and if she pushed just a bit more, she'd snap in front of everyone.
"Heather," a voice called from behind.
She turned to see Manager Sheng walking toward her.
Internally, she groaned. She'd almost had Lauren right where she wanted her. But of course, the moment was ruined.
He handed Heather a keycard on a sleek chain. "You'll need this to access the upper floors."
"What is she doing here?" Lauren's voice cut in from behind.
"She's here for the audition," Sheng answered, casually.
"Not that it's any of your business," Heather added without missing a beat.
Lauren stepped closer, lowering her voice but not her venom. "You seem to be forgetting something, sweetheart. This is my company. Which means everything that happens here—is my business."
Right. That part. The frustrating part.
What people didn't know was that Lauren owns twenty percent of the company's shares. Heather—well, Miss H—owns fifty. The remaining thirty is shared among other investors in a ten-five percentage.
But because Miss H couldn't publicly appear to run the company, decisions were funneled through her family, the highest share holders. And her family's trusted face in the business was supposed to be her, the legitimate daughter. But since she left, it went to Lauren, the illegitimate daughter.
When the company had launched, just a month after Heather left Caius, she needed investors.
What she had at the time wasn't enough. The company had grown, slowly at first, but it was her family's capital that truly launched it into the stratosphere.
And now? Heather had to navigate it all… in the shadows.
Meaning Lauren had all the public control—and none of the consequences.
Heather pressed her lips together and didn't respond.
Lauren turned, walking away like she'd won something.
"I'm your boss, bitch," she muttered over her shoulder.
Heather glared at her retreating figure.
Sheng turned to her and spoke low. "You might want to watch your tone when you're not her." he was referring to Miss H.
"I don't like her," Heather said, still staring at Lauren.
"Me neither," he said. "But as long as you're Heather, you work under her."
Heather knew even without being Miss H, legally she's supposed to be in Lauren's position, especially since she's the legitimate daughter. She exhaled sharply.
"Fine."