Sam had been two years ahead of Tracy in school. Years ago, when his company hit a bottleneck, one of their professors recommended Tracy to him.
She hadn’t let that recommendation go to waste. With her team, she developed one of the earliest AI medical diagnostic systems.
When the project went public, Sam kept his word and offered Tracy twenty percent of the company’s shares as compensation.
Since then, the company had earned a fortune off that project. Sam had always honored his promise, depositing dividends into her account each quarter. She was a shareholder in her own right.
Three years ago, Chandler had told her he wanted her to learn financial management, so that someday she could handle the family’s money.
She believed him.
She abandoned her own field and buried herself in his company’s work, meticulously keeping the books, trimming every cost down to the minimum to ensure ample liquidity.
And what had she gained in return?
Thinking of this, she replied to Sam: “This time, I accept the invitation.”
The moment he saw her message, Sam called. “So you’ve decided? You’re coming back to the company?”
Glancing at the file in her hand, Tracy answered, “Yes, I’ve decided. But I’ll need to wait a month for my resignation to go through.”
There was a pause, then Sam said, “I’m glad—and surprised—that you’ve finally decided to come back. Tracy, the company really needs you. Please return.”
Still, doubt flickered in her chest. “The AI field has developed so quickly. I’ve been out of it for three years. I don’t know if I can catch up again.”
Sam dismissed her concern. “Your unique algorithm is still unmatched. Don’t downplay yourself. By the way, there’s a CADD seminar next week. They want you to attend. Will you go?”
Tracy nodded. “Yes, I’ll go.”
If she was set on leaving Chandler’s company and returning to her profession, how could she turn down such an opportunity?
“Good. I’ll let them know.”
After hanging up, Tracy immediately shifted into work mode. Luckily, she hadn’t completely abandoned her knowledge these past three years. She’d just buried it under Chandler, always putting family first.
Back home after work, she sat at her computer, researching recent developments in the field and refreshing her memory.
At dinner, Chandler was still absent. She ate a few bites, then set her plate aside.
Seeing her untouched food, Jennie frowned. “Ms. Tracy, you haven’t had much appetite lately. Are you feeling unwell?”
Tracy crouched by the coffee table, tore off the July 2nd page from the calendar, and tossed it into the trash.
“No. Must be the heat making me lose my appetite.”
Even Jennie could tell something was wrong, yet Chandler acted blind, noticing nothing at all.
Jennie fell silent. She assumed Tracy was simply upset because Chandler hadn’t been home in days.
Later, after her shower, Tracy walked out to find Chandler coming upstairs with his briefcase.
She froze for a moment. Since his affair began, he rarely came home. What was he doing back now?
She quickly brushed off her surprise, picked up her hairdryer, and dried her hair.
Chandler spared her a glance, then disappeared into the study.
She was used to it, yet a faint ache still stirred in her chest. She buried it quickly.
Once her hair was dry, she returned to her computer to study CADD materials.
She had given up too much for Chandler. Now, with clarity, she knew she’d have to work harder than others to reclaim what she’d lost.
In the study, Chandler was buried in emails. After a while, thirst made him reach for the glass beside him—only to find nothing there.
He frowned. Tracy hadn’t brought him water.
In the past, the moment he came home, she would have been at his side, glass in hand, asking what he wanted to drink, fetching it immediately. She would remind him not to stay up too late, not to drink so much coffee, to take care of himself.
He had never paid much attention.
Now, nothing. Was she sulking?
Fine.
He rose, fetched his own water, drank, then returned to work.
His phone buzzed on the desk.
Unlocking it, he saw a message from Yvonne—along with a short video.
In the clip, she lounged in a silky nightdress, eyes hazy, holding a glass of red wine. She tilted it, letting the dark liquid spill across her collarbone, sliding slowly down her pale skin.
The sight was brazenly provocative, tugging at his nerves.
Yvonne: “1008, hotel next to your house. Done with work? Hungry? Want to come out for a quick meal?”
Chandler’s Adam’s apple bobbed as his breath deepened.
His gaze darkened, heat flaring beneath it. Tugging at his collar, he typed two words with one hand.
“Wait for me.”
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
