Chapter 4 Punishment

Is he angry?
He must be angry.
She didn't answer his question properly and even lied to him.
But Grace doesn't know what to do, so she can only say sorry to C once again.
C: I don't need your apologies, what you need for doing wrong is to accept punishment.
You refused, so we don't need to contact each other again. If you accept, then say you agree to accept the punishment.
Grace's scalp went numb, and her whole body began to burn with shame.
Without thinking, sShe blurted out, "I agree to accept the punishment."
She felt an unparalleled sense of oppression and an unparalleled power.
Even though this was essentially their first conversation, some things don't need to be announced grandly at the beginning.
He had that kind of charm.
The kind of charm that made her willingly obey even through a screen, the kind that made Sara take the risk of not obeying and still send her own photos.
Sara wanted to keep him, and so did Grace.
C: Buy your boss a cup of coffee.
What kind of punishment is this?
Grace frowned, but quickly understood that this was a real punishment for her.
Her gaze glanced at Caesar's body, and she couldn't help but feel weak in the legs.
She wasn't Caesar's secretary; she wasn't obligated to buy him coffee. And she didn't consider herself a close colleague of Caesar's, or rather, she didn't feel that there were any close colleagues around Caesar.
Speaking of which, Caesar hasn't been here for long. The departure of the previous manager was not a natural progression. The team had received many complaints from sponsors due to their poor performance in the past two years. But the previous manager had worked hard and was respected by everyone in the team. He had been with the Ferrari team for eight years, which was not a short period of time.
And now, the sponsors forced Caesar to take over.
In fact, he wasn't that young either. Grace had heard that he was in his early thirties, but compared to the previous and other managers of the team, Caesar's arrival felt like a slap in the face to the team's older members.
Moreover, he was a man with half-Indian heritage. The team was also like a small society, and rumors always spread quickly.
"His mother was his father's second wife, and they divorced shortly after giving birth to Caesar."
"Why?"
"Because his mother had an affair."
People let the rumors spread, essentially letting contempt for the people involved in the rumors spread as well.
"And he's just like that."
And Caesar wasn't the kind of person who would lower himself and try to please his colleagues in the team. He put his whole heart into building the team, invisibly accentuating the "resentment" of everyone.
Did he have any colleagues who were on good terms with him and willing to buy him a cup of coffee?
Grace affirmed: at least not now.
She could almost imagine the expression on Caesar's face when the cup of coffee was handed to him.
He was a very polite person, at least on the surface.
His deep blue eyes would stare at you, he would say "thank you" and then say "but your report is terrible."
The familiar fear that was still lingering from being dominated by Caesar rushed back into Grace's mind in an instant, causing her scalp to tingle.
And when she finally came to her senses and remembered that she hadn't replied to the message, C had already gracefully replied, "Okay."
But there was no response from the other side anymore. She held her phone tightly in her hand and leaned back on the sofa.
Caesar was on the phone, and James had disappeared. It was already eight-thirty, and the plane would take off in half an hour. There were various self-service meals and drinks at the nearby bar.
Grace felt empty and itchy in her chest, and she thought, why not take advantage of this opportunity? With that in mind, she stood up from her seat.
However, Grace didn't choose the self-service coffee; she remembered there was a chain coffee shop at the entrance of the lounge. She didn't want to give Caesar free coffee.
She pushed open the door of the coffee shop, and there weren't many people inside. Grace didn't wear a coat and only brought her phone with her. She walked up to the counter and said, "Please give me a cup of Espresso."
The server asked for her name, to which Grace replied, "Grace." After paying, Grace waited on the side. In the quiet coffee shop, people came and went. There was a wind chime at the entrance, occasionally making a crisp sound. Grace leaned against a low cabinet, deep in thought about how to deliver this cup of coffee.
Caesar walked in at that moment. The lighting in the coffee shop was not bright, perhaps to create a relaxed and gentle ambiance.
Then, he spotted the woman leaning against the cabinet at first glance. Her close-fitting, lightweight sweater outlined her figure well, and her tight-fitting skirt showcased her curvaceous hips and legs. Her straight, fair-skinned calves were as soft and bright as moonlight. Her head was lowered, and her rosy lower lip was held by her white teeth—almost invisible. Because her lightly curled long hair was like vibrant green seaweed, gently hanging on the side of her face—just like his mother's.
Caesar quickly averted his gaze and walked to the counter. "A cup of Espresso, please." "Name?" "Caesar." Grace's gaze immediately turned towards him. In the dimly lit café, Caesar also looked in her direction. He nodded towards Grace but didn't come over. Grace's heart felt like it was being squeezed in a palm.
He had come to buy coffee himself. Fortunately, she hadn't left her name as Caesar, but as Grace. "Caesar." Grace suddenly heard his voice echoing in her mind. She realized that he liked to use his own surname. In daily life, most people use their first names, but he preferred to use his surname. And surnames usually represent the family, using a surname represents pride in the family. Grace's thoughts were easily captivated by his surname, until her own name echoed in her mind again.
"Grace, your coffee is ready," Caesar said.
The waiter was also looking at the counter, eagerly awaiting. Grace became a little flustered all at once.
"Yes, sorry," she responded and apologized at the same time, then hurriedly walked to the counter.
Seemingly aware that Caesar was watching her at the moment, Grace became even more afraid to look up at him.
But clearly she hasn't done anything she shouldn't have done; she hasn't even delivered the cup of coffee yet.
But the guilty feeling of "plotting in secret" in her heart still kept Grace's gaze fixed upon the ground. She quickly picked up the coffee, said "thank you," and prepared to turn and leave.
She was too hasty, too anxious in her departure.
She was so anxious that she didn't hear the waiter calling Caesar's name as well. So in the instant she turned her head, the cup of coffee heavily collided with Caesar's chest.
A too common "little accident."
The waiter quickly brought some tissues.
Most of the coffee had been spilled on Caesar's chest, not sparing his white shirt and vest.
Grace took the tissues and began to quickly wipe him.
Caesar, however, took a step back.
Grace's nose turned sour in an instant.
"Sorry, Caesar, I—" But before she could finish her sentence, Caesar grabbed a fresh stack of tissues.
When he bent down, his line of sight was level with hers.
In the dimly lit café, his deep blue eyes turned into a foggy London, and his voice remained calm and steady as he spoke.
"No need to apologize, it's not your fault," Caesar said.
His fingers brought a steady and icy scent from his body. His index finger and thumb pressed lightly on her jaw and cheek with the tissue.
She was so flustered that she didn't even realize she had coffee splattered on her face.
Her body froze in that instant.
Caesar's actions showed no hint of desire; he earnestly wiped away the coffee stains on her face.
In the end, He reached her lips because she was having difficulty breathing.
She had a pair of soft and watery lips, not thin, but the kind with contours that made people unable to resist lightly pressing on them.
Caesar's thumb lightly pressed on the coffee stain on her lip, and Grace's body silently developed goosebumps.
She restrained the urge to take his thumb into her mouth and took a step back.
"Thank you," she said.
After Grace finished speaking, she intended to turn and leave. But Caesar stopped her again.
"Have you considered resigning?" he said.
He straightened his body again, and Grace had to look up at him.
The ambiguous and romantic atmosphere from earlier shattered with this sentence.
"I can't find a better job than this," Grace said.
"But clearly, you can't breathe properly when you're around me."
"No, I can," Grace blurted out. When it came to her job, she couldn't back down like this.
"But your recent behavior seems to suggest otherwise," Caesar said.
Caesar's voice was calm throughout, while Grace felt as if she had fallen into an icy cellar. She enjoyed this job, and she needed this job. Being able to intern at the Ferrari team was something she had earned with her top-ranking skills. She couldn't just give it up like that.
"This cup of coffee is for you," Grace completely gave up resisting. Caesar looked at her quietly for a second.
"Why?" Grace took a deep breath, looking up at him again.
"Because you said my report was well-written, so I wanted to thank you," Grace said. Caesar looked at her quietly, and Grace forced herself to breathe.
"Breathe, Grace."
"Breathe, Grace."
"Breathe, Grace."
She said to herself in her heart.
"So," Caesar spoke in a deep voice, "were you nervous just now because I also came to buy coffee?"
Grace's nose felt sour, her tone somewhat frustrated and resigned.
"Yes."
"I see," Caesar said.
"Sorry, I just wanted to say that I have no problem working by your side," Grace finished her words in one breath and added, "What about your shirt?"
"They have spare clothing on the plane."
"Well... let's go back then, it's almost nine."
Caesar said, "Wait."
He then turned around and went back to the counter.
Grace stood at the door and saw Caesar quickly approaching her with two cups of coffee.
"I'll consider this newly purchased cup to be your treat, but since I misunderstood you, I'll pay for this cup I bought earlier as my treat to you," Caesar said as he handed a cup of coffee to Grace.
Grace's heart, along with her hand, was "scalded" by this cup of coffee.
The two walked towards the café door, not far apart.
Caesar pushed the door open, and Grace walked out first.
He was tall, and when Grace passed by him, it was as if she was easily wrapped up by him. She instinctively held her breath and tried to walk by quickly, but suddenly heard him say:
"My bad, Grace."
The man's voice was very low, as if he was speaking next to her ear.
Grace looked up and collided with his deep blue eyes.