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.

a dream about Finnley. In the dream, she married him, and

up, turned on the light, and looked around. Then she realized she was in Finnley’s bedroom, a

looked too

her hand on Finnley’s palm. While

the melody of the Wedding March, she saw everyone smiling at

actual, as if

“No, no, no. Dreams are always opposite to real

crush on Finnley, nor did he like her. She could

dream baffled her, making her

down, she turned off the light, lay down, and tried

Morning.

straightening herself up, she put on a celeste suit jacket with plaids, looking mature

the R-Alan Group officially, so she wanted to

to the company's entrance, Leslie's

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

was the first time Catherine was treasured

the glass door of the

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