Chater 1 Inside the private room at the hotel, beneath the glittering glow of a towering ten-tier champagne pyramid, Benson Gray stood with his newly hired assistant, Sophie Scott.

The two of them were cutting a birthday cake together, their fingers interlocked.

When Sierra Shaw entered the room, Benson didn't flinch or even look guilty. Instead, he spoke as casually as if they were discussing the weather.

"Sophie has the same birthday as you. She's here all alone, far from home, with no friends. So, I decided to move your birthday party to hers for now. I'll make it up to you in a couple of days."

Sierra's smile faltered, freezing in place as her grip on her purse slowly tightened.

Today was her 25th birthday. Benson had promised he would propose to her on this special day.

She'd worn the elegant white dress he had gifted her, spent hours perfecting her hair and makeup, and arrived at the hotel excitedly.

But the sight before her felt like a bucket of ice-cold water cascading over her head.

The engagement ring she had dreamed of—the three-carat pink diamond she had spent years imagining on her finger—was now sparkling brightly on Sophie's hand as Benson held her hand.

A sting of pain blurred her vision. Still, she forced her feet to move. Approaching Benson, she took a deep breath and pointed directly at Sophie's hand. "What about that ring?"

time to

had spent three

sound of her heart shattering. Her eyes reddened as her voice broke. "And me, Benson? What about me?

I celebrated enough of your

she was about to close to boost Sophie's standing in the company. He had stood idly by as

made mistakes, it was Sierra Benson that was expected to clean up the mess, hiding behind the excuse of, "those who

Tears blurred Sierra's vision. She

a murmur of disapproval rippled through the small crowd

you've gone too far this

about this proposal, but you brought Sophie here just to get

continued slicing the cake. He placed one piece on

masked it with a nervous, apologetic expression. "Mr. Gray, it's my fault. I shouldn't have come and upset Ms. Shaw. I'll apologize to her later, okay?" Benson gave Sophie's shoulder a reassuring pat, his voice calm and condescending. "It's not your fault. She's just being overly sensitive. I've been meaning to break her of this habit of throwing

worried Sierra might get mad and refuse

laugh escaping his lips as though he'd just heard the most ridiculous

a kid, desperate to slap the name Mrs. Gray on herself. How could she possibly say no? If

erupted into cheers

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