The Secret Relationship Ends TodayChapter 3

“Naomi, why are you so stubborn? I heard about what happened last night. You were certainly wronged. But think about it, it’s just a tattoo. It can be removed or covered up. It’s not a lifetime thing.” I didn’t speak. She lowered her voice. “I heard from accounting that Ryan is giving you a million dollars in compensation from his personal account.” “A million dollars! How many years would it take you to save that much here? People would kill for that, and you still want to leave?”

The door was pushed open, and Alex from accounting poked her head in. “Oh, Naomi’s here. I was looking for you.” She walked over, plopped down beside me, and patted my knee. “I’m telling you, that million dollars is real. I just approved the transfer. You, don’t be foolish. With a million dollars, go to the best clinic, get the tattoo completely removed. Who’d remember any of this then?” Lisa chimed in. “That word’s on your wrist, not your face. A sleeve can cover it up. Who would know?” “Besides, think about it, getting a tattoo mark for a million dollars? Anyone else would be thanking Sienna Hayes for it.” I wasn’t surprised by their words; they were just ordinary people unaware of the full context. But this time, I wouldn’t soften or compromise. I shook my head. “Thank you for your kind intentions, both of you. If you’d like, you can go tell Sienna Hayes and see if she’ll give you a million dollars to tattoo a word on you.” “As for my resignation, my decision is final. If you insist on blocking me with paperwork, I’ll go speak to Ryan myself.”

As soon as I left the meeting room, the company group chat on my phone exploded.

[Heard she wanted to get ahead and got put in her place. Maybe the boss’s fake relationship became real.]

[Is she really resigning? Not even taking the million? So foolish.]

[Probably too ashamed after last night. Can’t face working here anymore.]

[Idiot, a million bucks! I’d get tattooed all over for that.]

Looking at these unrestrained discussions, I simply left the group chat. If the company wouldn’t let me resign, I had only one other option. I opened my phone’s contact list. The last time I spoke to my brother was five years ago. That day, he said our parents decided to emigrate and asked if I wanted to go with them. For Ryan, I refused. He asked, what could be more important than family? Yes, what or who could be more important than family? I stared at his name for a long time. My thumb hovered over the screen. I pressed the dial button. It rang twice, then connected. “Naomi Ryan?” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. “What’s wrong?” In that instant, I knelt down, covering my mouth, tears splashing onto the floor tiles. I, who had held back tears for so long, in that single, caring question, finally broke down.