Night. Finnley's apartment.

After a shower, Mya heated two glasses of milk and took one to the study.

She put it next to Finnley's right hand. “Don’t stay up too late. It's as harmful as committing suicide. You are not the company owner. Why do you work so hard?”

Finnley was reading about the mining progress in South Africa. When he looked up, he saw Mya turn away.

“What kind of thought is it? Irresponsible!” his inner voice retorted. Finnley picked up the milk, took a few sips, and turned off his laptop. Then he went to the living room.

Mya had entered the bedroom and locked the door from the inside as usual.

Finnley put down the empty glass. By accident, he saw long hair next to the coffee table.

After a few seconds, he bent over, picked it up, and put it into the garbage can.

Then he washed his hands and lay on the couch as usual.

Five o'clock, early morning.

In the apartment's only bedroom, Mya suddenly tightened her grip on the quilt. The next second, she snapped open her eyes.

Her breath almost stopped.

the dream, she married him, and she was so shocked that she

looked around. Then she realized she was in Finnley’s bedroom, a chill rising from her

in her dream looked too real, reappearing

put on a white wedding dress. Her father put her hand on Finnley’s palm. While their families and friends were applauding for blessing,

March, she saw

so actual, as if it had happened

she had such a dream. “No, no, no. Dreams are always opposite to real life,” Mya denied

Finnley, nor did he like her.

dream baffled her, making

the light, lay down, and tried to

Morning.

up, she put on a

joined the R-Alan Group officially, so she wanted to entirely emanate

to the company's entrance, Leslie's two trustworthy subordinates were

of her car open and greeted her, “Good morning, Ms. Collins. Mr. Eastwood

was the first time Catherine

door of the entrance. “Did he want to remind me

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