She was not Sylvia.
Celia's soft white fingers slid up Nathaniel's broad shoulder. With a flash of grievance in her eyes, she leaned in and bit him hard.
Nathaniel winced. That same delicate mark she had left on his shoulder the other night now throbbed anew. It hurt—again. But wasn't that fair? He'd deliberately called her by another woman's name to provoke her.
Then Celia moved and asked in a faint, embarrassed voice, "Did you bring protection? I don't want to take any pills… and I don't want to get pregnant."
Nathaniel reached up and opened the drawer by the bed.
"Fu Nancheng," she muttered.
"What's with the full name?" he said lazily, "Call me 'husband.' Let me hear it."
······
Celia eventually fell asleep in his arms. When she opened her eyes the next morning, the sun was already up.
To her surprise, Nathaniel hadn't left yet. She was still tucked into his embrace, his arms loosely holding her.
Flashes of the night before rushed back in waves. Celia bit down on her bottom lip, her heart tangled in a storm of emotions.
This role of "stand-in" kept escalating.
At first, she had merely replaced Sylvia in name. But now, she'd actually slept with him—again.
Quietly, she slipped out of his embrace, got dressed, and tiptoed out of the suite.
Behind her, as the door clicked shut, the man on the bed slowly opened his eyes.
Nathaniel had never really been asleep.
She only stayed for the night and always left before daylight. Just like now—gone before breakfast.
A soft chime sounded.
It was Secretary Song, announcing his arrival at the door. "President."
Nathaniel got out of bed. "Come in."
The secretary entered and immediately saw the tall man standing by the floor-to-ceiling window. He was already half-dressed, his shirt still unbuttoned. A tailored black belt cinched his trim waist, and the red scratch marks on his back were hard to miss.
Clearly, a passionate night.
Secretary Song respectfully averted his gaze.
Nathaniel pulled on his shirt. "She's gone?"
"Yes, sir. Miss Celia went to see Miss Sylvia."
Already?
They were meeting that quickly?
Nathaniel's eyes narrowed with a glint of irony.
······
After applying the fake scar back on her face, Celia left the Song Hotel. Sylvia was already waiting outside.
Sylvia crossed her arms, her tone sharp. "I told you to be out by six. Look at the time! You're getting later and later. What's wrong? Starting to think you're really Mrs. Fu now?"
Celia didn't take the bait. She knew who she was—just a stand-in. Nathaniel still believed she was Sylvia.
"I'm not here to argue," she said flatly. "Just tell me where the jade pendant is."
Though Sylvia had told herself she didn't care—as long as Nathaniel was happy, it benefited her—deep down, jealousy gnawed at her.
"Wait a second… did my husband really sleep with you last night?"
Before Celia could respond, a deep, magnetic voice cut through the morning air.
"Who slept with whom?"
Both women turned.
Nathaniel Fu, tall and composed, strode out with his usual cool confidence.
He'd followed them out?
"Honey~" Sylvia immediately stepped forward and latched onto his arm, her voice dripping sweetness. "I was just telling her how happy we were last night~"
Nathaniel looked down at her with a gentle smile. "I was very happy too."
Celia lowered her gaze.
The man who had held her so intimately last night was now wearing another face, smiling tenderly at Sylvia.
And she—she was just the invisible shadow.
As morning came, reality hit like a slap.
He was Sylvia's husband. And she… was just a stand-in.
Then his voice sounded again, pleasant and casual. "Are you free later? I'll take you to pick out some diamonds."