Behind the Curtains: A Tale of Hidden Emotions

Chapter 29

"I don't have a choice, do I? You've already given her the contract and signed it as well. I'm very disappointed in you, Mr. Yang." I didn't bother explaining my reasons for opposing this project. It was personal, and they didn't need to know. It was incredibly disrespectful of him to decide on his own without consulting me.

I wanted so badly to object to this foolishness, but the majority of the board voted to accept Faye as one of our major artists.

Since she was big in the US, it would be a major promotion for our company to have her with us. But I don't take any credit nor feel honored having her with us.

But I don't have a choice.

I should really just focus on planning a good strategy to beat Faye at whatever trick she's thinking of pulling.

Mr. Yang looked at me apologetically, clearly ashamed of what he did. We were currently in my office; I didn't want to talk to Faye yet, so I decided to fix my problems one at a time.

"But anyway, what's done is done. Let's just deal with this." I said with finality and firmness. Mr. Yang looked down at his feet, clearly ashamed. As he should be.

"I just don't want this to happen again," I added, my tone leaving no room for argument.

"Miss Domingo, please inform Miss Cruz about the necessary compliance and regulations they need to follow. Also, notify the press about the official date of the press conference and contract signing. I will provide the full details later." My secretary took notes of my instructions and proceeded outside, likely to call Faye's manager and inform her first.

I usually meet my artists personally to welcome them, but this was a different story. I didn't want to show that I was still affected by her presence, but I also didn't want to pretend like nothing had happened.

I don't hide my true emotions, especially when I'm mad at someone. If I don't like you, I'll make it clear; I'm not the type to act okay when I'm not. It's suffocating.

However, there are times when I remain composed and conceal my emotions, mostly if it's work-related. But in general, I'm brutally honest.

After that meeting with Mr. Yang, I tried hard to focus on my job, shrugging off unwanted thoughts and individuals. I was deeply engrossed in finishing paperwork and signing documents that needed my monitoring and approval when my secretary knocked on my door.

I acknowledged her presence and asked her to come in. "Ma'am, you have a lunch delivery," she said, smiling and showing me the bag she held.

I didn't remember ordering lunch. "Are you sure it's for me?"

"The delivery guy said it was for Miss Lertprasert, so yes, ma'am." Miss Domingo looked as puzzled as I felt while examining the bag. "Should I just throw this away?"

"Did he tell you who ordered it?" I asked, wanting to know the source before accepting it. You never know—it could be poisoned. It's hard to trust people nowadays.

When Miss Domingo shook her head, I told her to keep it or throw it away; she could do whatever she pleased.

After some time, my stomach growled. Glancing at the clock, I realized it was already past 2:00 p.m. No wonder my stomach was acting up—it was well past my lunchtime.

I had been so distracted with the pile of work, but it was a good thing, right? At least I was focusing on something productive rather than dwelling on things I shouldn't be concerned about.

I called my secretary through the intercom to request a late lunch. She promptly complied and soon brought me my usual meal: steak with Gorgonzola sauce and a bowl of Caesar salad.