Yvonne’s cheeks burned, and she stammered, “It was you who…!”
She trailed off, unable to finish.
Marico’s tone was low and calm. “I what? Hm?”
Yvonne wanted to say, *It was you who was so forceful, so… demanding.*
But that was something she only dared to think, never say out loud to his face.
“It’s fine, I’ll just drink it.” Yvonne tried to sound composed, though her face was still flushed.
She wished she could bury her whole face in the steaming bowl and gulp down the nourishing soup as if it were water, just to hide her embarrassment.
“I’m done.” Yvonne wiped her lips with a napkin. “Shall we go over work now?”
“Go ahead,” Marico replied.
Yvonne got up immediately to fetch her reports. Marico took his time with his lunch, and as she sat across from him, she launched into her work summary with practiced professionalism.
Throughout her report, Marico listened intently between bites, occasionally asking a pointed question or two.
By the time he finished eating, Yvonne had wrapped up her report as well.
“That’s everything. If there’s nothing else, may I go and take my break now?” Yvonne hugged her folder tightly, her eagerness to leave plain as day.
“Go on,” Marico said, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. His eyes lingered on her delicate fingers, the ring glinting on her hand.
She softened her tone, trying to reason with him. “I just think… maybe we should each live according to our own means. Would that be alright?”
Marico didn’t answer right away. He simply watched her, his dark eyes unreadable. The midday sun poured through the glass, casting sharp lines across his chiseled features, giving nothing away.
Yvonne swallowed nervously, feeling even more uneasy.
Had she gone too far? Had she upset him?
After all, he was the kind of man the world revolved around—there probably weren’t many people who dared to speak to him like this.
The thought made her regret her words, just a little.

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