Chapter 04 My First Kiss

"You wanted the elevator, right? Go ahead."

I turned around at a glacial pace, lowering my voice deliberately. "Thank you, Mr. Xavier."

He insisted I use the elevator but didn't step aside, his gaze steadfast on me.

"Were you at today’s interview too? Didn’t hear you asking any questions."

I cast my eyes downward. "Mr. Xavier, I just graduated. I'm still an intern reporter. I don’t have the privilege to ask questions yet."

"I see." He acknowledged with a detached interest, his thoughts an enigma.

Nicole glared daggers at me and spoke up curtly, "Let's go, Lucas. We have a meeting with Director Lu tonight."

Finally, Lucas diverted his attention. "Yeah, let’s go."

Ascending alone, I stood in the elevator, my mind a blank canvas.

After my parents divorced, my father married into a prominent family by wedding the daughter of a Vanderbilt board member, with Nicole ever-present at his side.

From as far back as I can remember, Nicole and I had never really connected.

But five years ago, out of the blue, she found me.

"I'll give you half a million to take my place," she said coldly, "to take care of someone for me."

Back when my mom passed away due to illness, we were drowning in debt.

Out of options, I reluctantly agreed to her request.

It wasn't until we met that I learned who she wanted me to take care of: the Young Executive of Xavier Luxury Group—Lucas Xavier.

He was also her recently betrothed fiancé, an engagement that didn't last long before an incident occurred.

"A blind man and the family's castoff, who wants to care for him?" She wore a look of disgust.

"If it weren't for worrying about public opinion, I would've called off the engagement a long time ago."

At that time, Nicole was just making her debut.

She'd landed a decent role, and her career was on the rise. Fearing accusations of heartlessness, she dumped the unpleasant task on me.

Lucas had sailed smoothly through life for eighteen years before the tragedy struck, leaving him with a terrible temper.

In the early days of caring for him, he'd often mock me with his biting sarcasm.

But I was paid to do a job and never talked back.

That changed the day I visited the cemetery to pay my respects to my mom and returned late.

He was ready to vent his frustration again: "Nicole, cut the act! Don't think I don't know—you actually despise me, you're just afraid of what others will—"

He couldn't finish his sentence because I suddenly bowed my head and covered his lips with mine.

It was my first kiss, clumsy and angry, more of a primal bite than a tender moment.

But it brought sudden calm, down to the very tips of our blushing ears.

"You! " he stammered, a mix of anger and embarrassment.

With a touch of spite, I bit his lip again then pulled back slightly, hands bracing his shoulders as I caught my breath, "Feel that? Still think I despise you?"