Scarlett’s eyes swept over Elizabeth, brimming with disdain. “Elizabeth, you always act like you’re superior to everyone else. Tell me, what successful man would ever be interested in someone like you?”
Elizabeth chuckled, unbothered. “You say that as if you’re an expert on successful men.”
“Of course I am!” Scarlett scoffed, flipping her hair dramatically. “I’ve always been more popular than you—since we were kids. And mark my words, I’ll marry better than you ever could.” The last part carried an edge, almost as if Scarlett needed to convince herself more than Elizabeth. A flash of determination lit her eyes, her insecurities masked by false confidence.
Elizabeth smirked. “Good luck with that.” Without another word, she turned and walked away, her indifference stinging more than any insult could.
Scarlett’s jaw tightened, her hands clenching into fists. She knew Elizabeth’s words weren’t sincere, but she couldn’t find a flaw to attack. Frustrated, she stomped her foot like a child denied their way.
At the alley entrance, Elizabeth spotted Oliver standing by the black luxury car, a bottle of water in hand.
Noticing her approach, Oliver set the bottle down on the driver’s seat and stepped forward. “Mrs. Norris, where are you headed? Would you like me to give you a lift?”
Elizabeth shook her head, waving him off. “No need. It’s close. I’ll walk.”
Oliver paused, then opened the car door and grabbed a fresh bottle of water, extending it to her. “The water from roadside stalls is often of inferior quality. It’s best you go with yours, Mrs. Norris.”
Elizabeth glanced at the bottle, her eyebrows lifting slightly. The sleek glass container glimmered in the sunlight, its design understated yet luxurious. She knew this particular brand—it cost more than some people’s daily meals.
Her gaze flicked to the simpler plastic bottle Oliver had been drinking from earlier. “Get me a bottle of Evian instead.”
Oliver nodded, retrieving one from the car and handing it to her. Elizabeth took it, twisted off the cap, and took a sip without comment.
Just as she stood sipping her water, Scarlett emerged from the building and froze in her tracks.
Her eyes widened in disbelief as she spotted Elizabeth by the luxury car, chatting casually with a handsome man in a black suit.
Scarlett’s mind raced. Was this the owner of the car she had been fantasizing about? Was this man… Elizabeth’s husband?
Her shock quickly gave way to jealousy.
She glared at Elizabeth, the hatred in her eyes almost palpable.
Why her? Elizabeth, of all people. The girl with no father and a deceased mother, raised by an aging grandmother. A girl who everyone in the neighborhood had pitied.
Why would someone so pitiful suddenly rise to such heights?
Scarlett’s parents were teachers, from a respected scholarly family. She had been raised with love and care, her life filled with security.
Sure, she wasn’t as naturally beautiful as Elizabeth, but she made up for it with fashion and effort. She knew with the right treatments and a little cosmetic work, she could be more stunning than Elizabeth.
Yet here Elizabeth stood, casually chatting with a man Scarlett had dreamt about—an elegant figure who looked like he’d stepped out of a classic drama.
Just as Scarlett’s bitterness reached its peak, she noticed something odd. Elizabeth didn’t get into the car. Instead, she walked away, heading in the opposite direction.
Confused, Scarlett paused. Was Elizabeth not connected to this man after all?
Her confusion grew as she watched Oliver retrieve the water bottle from the driver’s seat and take a sip. The bottle looked identical to the one Elizabeth had just been drinking from.
From her angle, she couldn’t see that Elizabeth had taken the bottle with her. Since the bottles were identical, she instinctively assumed it was the same one.
Her fleeting hope was extinguished once more.
“Excuse me,” a deep male voice sounded behind her. The rich timbre of the voice sent a shiver down her spine, like the low, velvety notes of a cello.
Her heart raced, and she turned her scooter forward, then glanced back. The sight stole her breath.
How could a man with such radiance exist in the world?
The man was utterly striking—tall and sharply defined, with an aura of authority and a face that belonged on the cover of magazines.
He exuded power with every step, his presence commanding attention without effort.
Scarlett’s knees nearly buckled as she realized this man was heading straight toward the car.
Her jaw dropped as the man by the luxury car straightened and bowed slightly in respect. He opened the door for the stranger, whose every move seemed to radiate effortless confidence.
Scarlett stood frozen, watching as the man got into the car and drove away. When the car disappeared from sight, she finally snapped out of her daze, her heart still pounding.
It hit her like a freight train—the true owner of the luxury car wasn’t Elizabeth’s husband. It was him. The man she had just seen—the man who embodied everything she dreamed of in a partner—was the boss.
And Elizabeth’s husband was just the chauffeur!
The realization sent a wave of giddy excitement coursing through her. She laughed out loud, unable to contain herself, ignoring the judgmental stares of strangers.
If Elizabeth’s husband was merely the chauffeur, then the path was clear for Scarlett to pursue the boss herself.
Once she married him, she’d be the one calling the shots. Elizabeth and her driver husband wouldn’t even dare look her in the eye. The thought filled her with joy and determination.
Spurred by her ambition, Scarlett turned her scooter and headed in the direction the luxury car had gone.
“Happiness doesn’t come to those who wait—it’s something you chase,” she thought to herself.
