Escape From the Demon Family and Find Your True Self

The next day, work felt like any other, except I couldn't quite meet Mr. Brown's eyes. When I passed him documents, my head was down, my hands careful.

Thinking about last night's antics still had me cringing.

Mr. Brown, however, acted like it was just another day. He seemed more attentive but never mentioned that night again.

Maybe I thought there was something there, but perhaps it was all in my head.

I felt like a Cinderella—only without any luck. Fairy tales? Not for me.

As expected, after my internship, I was kept on as Mr. Brown's assistant.

During a company dinner, I suddenly felt nauseous and excused myself to throw up.

Right then, my phone rang—it was my dad. Annoyed, I hung up. He called back immediately. Reluctantly, I answered, "What's up? I'm kind of busy here!"

Surprisingly, his tone was soft, almost pleading, "Kelly, do you have any cash to spare? Could you lend your dad some?"

"What about the money from Mom's funeral?" I countered sharply.

"That money... it's..." he trailed off.

"Gone!"

I didn't let him finish, cutting the call short.

Calls from him always meant he needed money.

I washed my face, looking in the mirror at my makeup running down my cheeks. My stomach revolted again, and I threw up.

"Why push yourself to drink if you can't handle it?"

Mr. Brown stood leaning against the doorway, an amused look on his face.

I wiped my mouth and forced a sly smile, "If I don't drink, how will you play your cards right with the clients?"

The next morning, Mr. Brown summoned me and handed me a card, "Heard your phone call last night. Take this for now."

"I don't want it," I insisted.

He chuckled lightly, "Just take it, no strings. Pay me back when you can."

That night, I transferred some money to my dad and called him, "This should keep you for a while. Cut back on the gambling. There's no next time."

At the year-end company party, the drinks were flowing and Mr. Brown started speaking. The crowd cheered, "Let Kelly join in with Mr. Brown!"

"Exactly! Kelly's bond with Mr. Brown is something else! She stayed when all the other interns left!"

"I've even seen her ride home with him!" someone added from the crowd.

Sitting there, I clenched my drink, maintaining a calm facade amidst the snide remarks.

I glanced up at Mr. Brown, who was on stage. Despite the murmurs from the crowd, he seemed unaffected, still as captivating and radiant as ever, speaking fluidly and effortlessly.

Unsure if he noticed the intensity of my stare, he casually turned around, sweeping his gaze across the audience.

Our eyes met.

I quickly averted my gaze, feeling overwhelmed and awkward.

"Kelly, come up here," he called out suddenly in front of everyone.

The crowd had started to cheer and tease. I had no idea what he was planning.

Almost as if compelled by some unseen force, I walked up and stood next to Mr. Brown. He wrapped an arm around me, pulled me close, and announced, "As of today, Kelly Emmie is officially my girlfriend."

I was speechless, my eyes wide as I tried to process his words.

A smug smile played across Mr. Brown's lips.

After that night, it was like I had a target on my back at work. People avoided me, their looks tinged with suspicion.

Handing over documents or trying to make small talk met with curt responses; they'd take the files and hurry off.

I felt uneasy all over. In the break room, I caught up with the marketing director, the only one who seemed friendly.

"What's with everyone? Is it because I'm Mr. Brown's girlfriend now?" I asked.

"You're still new here, Kelly. There's a lot you don't know. Just give it time," she said, her discomfort apparent.

She hesitated, then whispered before leaving, "Keep your distance from Mr. Brown, okay? Just enough to stay safe."

I didn't fully grasp her warning, choosing instead to ignore it.

I believed in my work quality and skills; I was with Mr. Brown because he treated me better than anyone else ever had.

I was just following my heart; they had no right to judge.

Mr. Brown usually drove me home, but that night, he suddenly turned around.

"Where are you heading?" I asked, puzzled.

"To my place," he stated flatly.

"We've only been together a few days. Isn't this too soon?" I questioned, my voice tinged with hesitation.

"What's the problem? You're my girlfriend now," he retorted, almost defensively.

Influenced by my traditional upbringing, I was uncomfortable.

"I think I'll head to my own home. If it's too much trouble, you can drop me off, and I'll take a cab," I offered diplomatically.

He stopped the car abruptly, and turned to me with a sarcastic gaze, "You didn't reject the credit card. You've been around, flirting, haven't you? I can see through it."

"Why play the innocent now? We both knew this was heading here. Isn't it fair we both get what we need?" he challenged.

His blunt words stunned me into silence, a tumult of emotions inside me struggling for release.

"But I thought I was your girlfriend, wasn't I?" I managed weakly.

He paused, taken aback for a moment, then composed himself.

"Better get out. Think it over and come back when you're ready."

I didn't call a cab. Instead, I walked, heels clacking against the pavement until pain forced me to remove them. I continued barefoot, lost in thought.

Was there something between Mr. Brown and me, or was it all just a game? He accused me of leading him on. Perhaps he was right. When he handed me that card to spend freely, I hesitated, swayed for a moment.

But did I truly like him?