The assistant handed over the phone, and Celia found herself face-to-face with a familiar, handsome face—Nathaniel Fu.
He was video-calling her.
Nathaniel appeared to be in the presidential suite of a six-star hotel. The elegant, understated décor behind him was unmistakably his style. Due to the time difference, it was already nighttime where he was. A warm champagne-gold light spilled over his chiseled features, casting a radiant glow on his already stunning face.
Dressed in navy silk pajamas, his neatly trimmed hair still damp from a shower, Nathaniel looked effortlessly youthful and captivating.
Across the screen, his sharp eyes met hers. His brow furrowed slightly, and he asked in a low, magnetic voice, "Why didn't you pick up my call?"
Celia held the phone tightly. "I didn't hear it."
He let out a soft chuckle and muttered, "Little liar."
Her cheeks flushed. Little liar, indeed…
Just then, a woman's voice drifted into the frame. "President Fu, here are the suit and shirt for your meeting."
Celia recognized her instantly—it was the same voice that had answered Nathaniel's phone earlier.
The woman stepped into view, dressed in a fitted black blazer, a matching pencil skirt, sheer black tights, and high heels. A polished professional beauty, her red lips and bright eyes exuded confidence and sophistication. She carried his neatly ironed clothes and gently placed them on the bed.
She looked up at Nathaniel, her gaze lingering adoringly on him.
But Nathaniel didn't spare her a glance. His eyes stayed fixed on Celia in the video. "What are you thinking? Jealous of the secretary?"
His teasing tone made her heart skip. Why was he saying that to me?
A man like him, constantly surrounded by people managing every detail of his life, was bound to have a capable and attentive female secretary. Nothing strange about it.
"I wasn't thinking about anything," she muttered.
Nathaniel studied the side of her face through the screen—delicate and unmarked by the usual scar. She looked especially beautiful under the soft light. He lowered his voice, a faint smile curling on his lips. "I've been working non-stop since I got here. Haven't had time to do anything else. Don't overthink it."
His words caught her off guard.
She couldn't understand why he felt the need to explain himself, or why that final sentence—Don't overthink it—made her chest tighten.
This man had spent years building his empire. He exuded maturity, dominance, and an effortless sophistication. But when he let his voice drop and spoke to her like that, it was enough to make her heart race.
He sounded like a man whispering sweet nothings to his lover.
Celia was only twenty. She'd never encountered this kind of emotional ambiguity before.
"If that's all, I'll hang up," she said hastily, trying to break the moment.
Nathaniel seemed to sense her unease, but only said, "Stay at the hospital. I'll come find you when I return."
The call ended.
The assistant turned to her respectfully. "Miss Celia, we've assigned a senior nurse and a top medical team to your grandmother's case. If there's anything urgent, just call me—I'll be available at any time."
"Thank you," she replied quietly.
After seeing the assistant out, Celia sat down beside her grandmother's bed. For once, she felt genuinely relieved. The moment Nathaniel had stepped in, her chaotic world had calmed.
In the next two days, Celia spent her mornings making perfume and her nights at the hospital with her grandmother. The exhaustion eventually caught up with her, and she fell asleep beside the hospital bed.
Late one night, the quiet hallway echoed with the sound of steady footsteps.
The door opened gently.
Nathaniel Fu had returned.
He wore a long black coat over a tailored black suit. Leather gloves covered his hands, and a chill clung to him as if he'd rushed straight from the airport.
Secretary Song remained outside, closing the door behind him.
Nathaniel walked to the bedside, his dark eyes falling on the girl sleeping peacefully beside her grandmother.