Chapter 3

When I woke up, Julian threw the photos that had gone absolutely viral onto my bed.

He feigned a look of deep pain: "Scarlett, I know this must be a misunderstanding."

"Don't worry, I've already got my PR team working on it. Soon, these photos will be wiped from the internet entirely."

In the photos, my face was clearly visible, my clothes disheveled, surrounded by several unfamiliar men.

The background was a private room in a high-end club.

The headline blared: "Female Investment Banker Allegedly Sleeps Her Way Up, Financial Industry's Dark Side Exposed."

"Those who hurt you, I've already sent them all to prison."

Julian picked up his phone. "But the negative publicity has already affected the company's reputation, and with your hands unable to do high-frequency trading anymore…"

"Forget Chief Analyst, the company can't even hold onto your position."

"Candace, bless her soft heart, fought tooth and nail to secure this opportunity for you."

Steal my position, ruin my reputation—is *that* what she calls a "soft heart"?

"The company's decided to use your case as internal training material, a cautionary tale for all new hires."

My voice trembled: "So... you agreed to this?"

Julian shook his head: "I don't think that's impactful enough."

"Candace suggested you share your 'lessons learned' at the morning meetings every day."

"It might be humiliating at first, but when you see new hires avoid making your mistakes because of you, you'll feel... gratified."

My vision blurred; I could barely see Julian in front of me.

How did we become like this?

It feels like just yesterday, when we first started dating, he'd get jealous if I had one too many drinks with a client. He'd always step in front of me if a male client got too close.

Five years. We clawed our way up from entry-level traders, supporting each other every step of the way, finally carving out a place for ourselves in this cutthroat financial world.

Now, just because Candace suggested it, he arranged for my humiliating photos to be taken, and wants me to publicly rip open my own wounds?

"Julian, what did I do wrong?"

Tears streamed down my face. "I absolutely refuse this arrangement. We're over!"

I struggled to get up, but a searing pain shot through my right wrist.

Julian said impatiently: "Don't be ridiculous! Candace stayed up all night to come up with this plan. Is this how you repay us?"

Just then, Candace, in her ten-centimeter Jimmy Choo heels, pushed the door open.

The scent of Chanel No. 5 instantly filled the entire space.

Seeing my disheveled state, she curled her red lips in a triumphant smile: "Julian, what's going on here?"

Julian sneered: "Still thinks she's a star trader, offended that the opportunity we're giving her isn't 'dignified' enough."

Candace sighed, feigning sympathy: "Scarlett, you're practically useless now.

What firm would trust their capital to a trader who can't even type?"

"Besides..."

She shook her phone. "Now the entire internet is flooded with your scandalous photos.

The financial world absolutely despises this kind of scandal."

I let out a cold laugh: "Since you think it's so great, why don't *you* become the cautionary tale? After all, you want to snatch everything, so take this opportunity too."

"Especially since..."

I stared at her meticulously manicured nails, "this idea was *yours*. You'd be able to 'empathize' with the experience even more, wouldn't you?"