When Cassian turned around, he saw Ants staring at him intently. Her long lashes fluttered, and her beautiful eyes wened to damos bë water–absolutely mesmerizing.
Cassian snuled and walked over to sit beside her.
Ana instinctively swallowed hard, nervously gripping the sides of her pants.
Cassian leaned closer and closer to her.
Ana’s breathing seemed to stop as her heart raced uncontrollably, like it might burst right out of her chest.
“You…”
Cassian didn’t speak, just kept moving closer.
Ana could smell his intoxicating scent filling her nostrils. Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it might fly right out of her chest.
She unconsciously closed her eyes.
But the soft lips she was expecting never came.
Instead, she heard the sound of the nightstand drawer being opened, followed by rustling and searching.
Huh? What was happening?
When Ana opened her eyes, she saw Cassian holding a hair dryer, looking at her with an amused expression.
“Why are you staring at me? Your hair’s soaking wet. If you sleep with it damp, you’ll catch a cold or get headaches.”
Ana paused, a blush creeping across her face. Apparently she’d been reading too much into things.
She thought he was going to…
Ana laughed awkwardly. “Um… I can do it myself.”
To cover her embarrassment, she reached out to take the hair dryer from Cassian.
Cassian pulled his hand back, dodging hers. “I’ll do it. It’s only natural for a husband to dry his wife’s hair.”
Ana was about to protest, but Cassian had already started. He didn’t use the highest setting–just medium speed.
“This way it’s quieter, so we won’t wake Grandma,” he explained.
Ana hummed softly in agreement.
So when Cassian had closed the door earlier, it was to keep the hair dryer noise from disturbing her grandmother.
Cassian’s movements were incredibly gentle, carefully separating her hair strands, afraid of hurting her.
Ana was so comfortable she nearly fell asleep.
Suddenly, the dryer’s humming stopped.
Ana drowsily opened her eyes to find that Cassian had tossed the dryer aside and was now staring at her intensely. His eyes were like two whirlpools, drawing her in completely.
Ana’s breath caught. Before she could react, she saw Cassian lean in closer. “You’ve had your turn to enjoy this. Now it’s mine.”
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Cassian qur kly closed the distance and blesed her lips stating hej tmeath novas
Ana mested into Cassian’s arms like purty…
When her grandmother got up in the middle of the night and passed Ana’s rain, the muddenly heard some internal restrained wine, there fare turned red, and she quickly hurried pae
The next morning, her grandmother announced: “I’m moving in with you two
Ana was stumped, then looked at her grandmother with pure joy. “Grandma, really? You’re really willing to come live with us?
Seeing Ana so happy she was almost trying, her grandmother lovingly patted her head. “When has Grandma ever lied to you?
“Yes! Okay!”
“You two go to work. I’ll pack my things at home, and when you get off work, I’ll come over,” her grandmother said.
As her grandmother went to pack, she muttered quietly, “If I have to listen to those sounds every night, who could stand it….”
Ana wondered why her grandmother had changed her mind. They hadn’t even talked to her yesterday–they’d gotten back too late and she was already asleep.
But it didn’t matter now. Her grandmother had agreed, and Ana was thrilled.
When Ana got to the office, Vincent’s face looked like he’d stepped in dog shit.
In Vincent’s opinion, Ana had some real manipulation skills–getting everyone to protect her while throwing Sonia under the bus.
But still…
“Anastasia, some people need to know their place. Are you a designer or a spokesperson? Don’t get so caught up in side gigs that you forget your actual job.”
Ana had already had it out with Vincent, so there was no need to be polite anymore.
“Vincent, are you saying I’m not doing any part of my job well enough? If so, please tell me specifically what needs improvement.”
Ana’s meaning was clear: if she’d actually made mistakes or neglected her design work to do modeling, she’d apologize and accept criticism.
But since she hadn’t done anything wrong, why should she put up with Vincent’s passive–aggressive bullshit?
Vincent wanted to tear into Ana, but he couldn’t find any legitimate complaints.
Ana handled everything perfectly–practically airtight.
Since he couldn’t find any real issues, he could only say angrily, “You better watch yourself!”
With that, Vincent stormed into his office.
SLAM! Vincent slammed the door hard enough for everyone to hear–clearly meant for Ana’s benefit.
But Ana couldn’t care less.
Sharlene looked at Ana with pure, admiration, giving her a thumbs up. “Ana, you’re amazing.”
“In this whole department, you’re the only one with both the skills and the backing to stand up to him. Nobody else would dare.”
Ana patted Sharlene’s shoulder. “If I only had backing without skills, he could still sabotage my work and find excuses to fire me. The key is having real ability–that’s what keeps you unbeatable.”
Sharlene nodded, then seemed to remember something. She pulled out some design sketches and handed them to Ana seriously. “Ana, could you look at these and tell me if my designs are any good?”
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Chapter 280
“Of course.”
Just then, Peter happened to walk by and overheard their conversation. He laughed coldly. “Even if a little assistant actually designs something, nobody would use it. Unless…”
Ana looked confused. “Unless what?”
Peter just smiled and walked away without explanation.
“What did he mean?” Ana asked.
Sharlene’s face went pale. “Actually, there’s this unwritten rule at our ompany–well, at most companies really. Even if an intern is super talented, if you haven’t been in the industry for years building a reputation, clients won’t respect your work. They’ll nitpick everything, find fault wherever they
can.”
“But the exact same design from a famous designer? They’ll think it’s brilliant and amazing.”
“Basically, clients don’t trust newcomers to do good work. They assume veterans are always better.”
“It’s not just our industry either. My college friend became a freelance writer after graduation, and she faced the same thing. Nobody wanted her articles no matter how hard she worked. Someone suggested she ghostwrite, but she refused.”
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