Zachary sat there, shielded by a pair of dark shades and clad in an off-white casual suit. He looked every bit the cold, overbearing monarch of his empire.

He didn't bother answering Charlotte’s question. Instead, he slowly twisted the black-gold signet ring off his index finger and, with a flick of his wrist, tossed it into the center of the shimmering pool.

"Retrieve it," he commanded, his voice as flat as the water’s surface.

"What?" Charlotte froze, unable to fathom why he was doing this. Was this a game?

Zachary merely cocked an arrogant brow, his silence more demanding than any shout.

"Mr. Nacht... have I offended you in some way?" Charlotte asked, her voice trembling with a mix of confusion and nerves. "If I’ve done something wrong, please, I apologize!"

"Are you going to get it, or not?" Zachary’s response was a razor-sharp ultimatum.

"I..."

The protest died in her throat. She knew the power he held; a single word from him and she’d be back on the streets without a cent to feed her children. Swallowing her grievances, she kicked off her leather shoes. The biting air nipped at her skin as she stepped onto the edge and waded into the pool.

The moment the water hit her waist, her teeth began to chatter violently. It was early winter, and the unheated pool was a tomb of ice. A gust of wind swept across the rooftop, cutting through her thin blouse like a blade.

Charlotte shivered uncontrollably but steeled herself. She took a deep breath and submerged her head, her eyes stinging as she searched the turquoise depths for a tiny glint of gold. On his recliner, Zachary watched her struggle, a smug, dark smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Finding a ring in a massive swimming pool was the definition of looking for a needle in a haystack. Charlotte’s limbs grew numb, and her skin turned a ghostly shade of blue. After more than half an hour of desperate searching, she finally spotted a sparkle near the drain.

She dived, her lungs burning, and snatched the ring. When she broke the surface, she was gasping for air, her entire body soaked to the bone. She flung her sodden hair over her shoulder and wiped the water from her eyes, letting out a small, triumphant cry. "I found it!"

The winter sun caught the ring, making it dazzle between her trembling fingers. Despite the cold, her smile was radiant—a flash of pure, resilient joy.

Zachary’s expression remained frosty as he beckoned her with a single finger.

Charlotte scrambled out of the pool, her clothes clinging to her like a second skin. She hurried over and held out the ring. "Here is your ring, Mr. Nacht!"

Zachary lifted his eyes, and for a moment, the icy mockery in his gaze was replaced by something much hotter. Charlotte was completely bare-faced, but her natural, high-born beauty and inherent elegance were only heightened by the water. The wet white blouse and black skirt acted like a translucent veil, tracing every curve of her figure beneath the brilliant sun.

"Mr. Nacht?"

She was shaking too hard to notice the predatory shift in his gaze. Zachary abruptly withdrew his eyes and snatched the ring from her palm. He stood up, smoothing his suit, and began walking away at an unhurried pace.

"Change the water again," he tossed over his shoulder. "Clean the entire area before you leave."

Charlotte watched his retreating back, her knuckles white as she clenched her fists. What is wrong with this devil? He threw his own ring in just to watch me suffer? What did I ever do to him?

"Achoo! Achoo!"

Another gust of wind hit her, sending a fresh wave of tremors through her body. Left with no choice, she spent the next hour scrubbing the deck and refilling the pool. When she finally finished, she grabbed a discarded bathrobe from a recliner, wrapped it around her frozen frame, and hurried toward the elevator.

She was a dripping mess, sneezing continuously as the elevator descended. All she wanted was to reach the locker room, find a hair dryer, and get her clothes dry before she caught pneumonia.

Unfortunately, as the doors slid open, she ran straight into Wesley.

He was waiting for the lift, documents in hand, but his eyes lit up with a sickening intensity the moment he saw her. "Well, well... what do we have here?"

Charlotte ignored him, pushing past to get to the washroom. But Wesley wasn't about to let her go. He trailed after her like a vulture.

The changing room washroom was small, tucked away in a corner of the floor where few people ventured. Just as Charlotte tried to slam the door shut, Wesley shoved his way in and clicked the lock behind him.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Charlotte shouted, clutching the bathrobe tighter.

"My, my, Charlotte," Wesley jeered, his eyes roaming over the Nacht-branded bathrobe with pure malice. "I never knew you were this ambitious. So, you’ve finally set your sights on the big boss?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You just came down from the 68th floor wearing Mr. Nacht’s personal bathrobe," Wesley sneered, his gaze burning with lust and jealousy. "You have the look of a woman who's just been thoroughly... entertained. Don't bother denying it. You went up there to seduce him, didn't you?"