’My enemy is now the boss’s wife. My former backer has kicked me to the curb. I’m over forty—if I leave the Vaughn Group, I’ll never find another good job. Isn’t this a death sentence?’
Cecelia Archer glanced over at the engineering department’s table while she ate.
When she saw Miller looking like he didn’t belong, she irritably averted her gaze.
Damien Vaughn noticed her expression soured and asked.
"What’s wrong? Did you see something that upset you?"
"That Miller. We had a run-in back at Windmount. I don’t want to see him."
"Then don’t look. If you really can’t stand the sight of him, we can just find an excuse to fire him."
Cecelia wasn’t that heartless, though.
She’d heard her colleagues mention that Miller had worked his way up to his current managerial position through his own hard work. Besides, he had a son in high school.
Even though he’d nearly gotten her killed for his own benefit, nothing had actually happened in the end. For his son’s sake, she decided not to hold a grudge.
"There’s no need. You’re right—if I don’t like the sight of him, I’ll just look away. Let’s not talk about him anymore."
With Cecelia by his side, Damien Vaughn found his work both relaxing and enjoyable. Three days passed in the blink of an eye.
After dinner, just as he was about to go see Candy with Cecelia, he received a message from Brandon Jacobs.
"I’m ready. What time are we heading out tonight?"
Damien Vaughn: "..."
At nine in the evening, after coaxing Cecelia to sleep, Damien Vaughn finally drove away from home.
When he picked up Brandon Jacobs, the sight of his friend’s brand-new look made him shudder in disgust.
"Are you wearing cologne? And what’s with your hair? Do those clothes even suit you? Who told you to dress like this? Brandon Jacobs, have you lost your mind?"
Due to the particular nature of Brandon Jacobs’s profession, he usually sported a dapper, roguish style.
It looked good, sure, but it always felt a bit too mature, a bit too smarmy.
Ever since that one time with Elsa, Brandon Jacobs had spent the past few days agonizing over his body and appearance. The more he looked at himself, the more he disliked what he saw, and the more he felt he wasn’t good enough for her. So, he asked Zeke Walton to come up with a new strategy for him.
He had a high opinion of Zeke Walton’s sense of style.
He adjusted his clothes with considerable satisfaction and asked Damien Vaughn.
"What’s wrong? Not handsome enough for you? This was all Zeke Walton’s idea. All the young guys are dressing like this nowadays. This style, this haircut... don’t I look like a K-pop star? Don’t you think I look years younger?"
Damien Vaughn rolled down the car window and impatiently fanned the air in front of his nose.
"Zeke Walton has his vibe, and you have yours. This look is natural on him, but on you, it’s just a cringey mismatch. A K-pop star? Elsa won’t like it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you."
Brandon Jacobs didn’t believe him.
’Women love pretty boys. The fairer and more refined, the more cheerful and bright, the better.’
’Everyone at the club today, men and women alike, was stunned when they saw me. They all said I looked great. Damien Vaughn was the only one who disagreed.’
’What did that prove?’
’Either his taste was terrible, or he was just jealous.’
"Vaughn, I never thought you were so petty, getting jealous of your own brother-in-law. I know we’re around the same age, and you have that whole mature, serious look going on. You can’t handle me suddenly turning into a pretty boy, but do you have to be so obvious about it? What’s wrong with me being a little more handsome than you? If things go well between your sister and me, isn’t that a good thing for you?"
Damien Vaughn glanced at the glittering silver chain around Brandon’s neck and the collection of eclectic rings on his fingers, speechless for several seconds.
"Jealous of you? Me? Fine. If you think you look so good, then suit yourself. But one thing—get in the back seat."
"Why the back seat? If I’m stretched out back there fast asleep while you’re driving, won’t you feel like my chauffeur?"
"I’ll be the chauffeur, then. As long as I don’t have to smell you."
Brandon Jacobs was banished to the back seat. They drove in silence and soon arrived back at the villa.
The scene was much the same as last time.
Elsa was dressed the same, but the way she looked at Brandon Jacobs was different.

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