Chapter 12: I'm Just Afraid I'll Mess Up

Isabella had previously rambled about having a fiancé, which was how she managed to get promoted. She worried that her lie would be exposed and she'd be fired by Sebastian Whitmore, so she had to continue lying. However, after she finished speaking, the car seemed colder, and Sebastian Whitmore's expression was off. Did she say something wrong again?

Thinking about how companies nowadays don't favor employees who get married or have children soon after joining, Isabella added, "Mr. Whitmore, don't worry. I don't plan to get married before I'm thirty. I want to focus on my career and work hard with you to make Whitmore Corporation bigger and stronger."

"Bigger and stronger?" Sebastian Whitmore's lips twitched slightly as he glanced at her with his long eyes. "So, Whitmore Corporation isn't enough for you?"

Isabella forced a laugh. "Mr. Whitmore, Whitmore Corporation is one of the top conglomerates. It's definitely not small. And with you at the helm, our company surely has a bright future."

Inwardly, Isabella thought, why does this man speak so sarcastically? Seeing her fawning attitude, Sebastian Whitmore's mood improved significantly. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes to rest.

Isabella finally breathed a sigh of relief. The car didn't seem as cold anymore; it seemed she had said the right thing.

The car soon arrived at The Gilded Lily. Isabella obediently followed Sebastian Whitmore and realized it was a private gathering for him tonight. The room was filled with young men and women, all either young talents or heirs from affluent families.

Isabella didn't understand why Sebastian Whitmore brought her along.

"Seb, you're finally here." A young man in his twenties approached. He was slightly chubby but still handsome in a cute and warm way.

Isabella recognized him as Andrew Miller, the only son of the Miller family, one of the four most influential families in Riverton alongside the Whitmore family.

Sebastian Whitmore nodded slightly. "It's your birthday after all; I'll stay for a bit."

Sebastian Whitmore and Andrew Miller had been close friends for years. If it weren't for Andrew Miller's birthday, he wouldn't have come to such an event.

"I get it." Andrew Miller laughed and playfully punched his chest. "I heard there's a woman staying at Hawthorne Manor. Seb, are you dating someone? Why haven't you introduced her? What does she look like? She must be stunning..."

Andrew Miller chattered away as Sebastian Whitmore found a seat and called out to Isabella at the door, "Sit here."

Andrew Miller then noticed Isabella and stared at her in disbelief. "Is this the future Mrs. Whitmore? Wow, Seb, I didn't expect you to like this type. She looks so plain; where did you find her? She's practically an antique."

Isabella: "..."

No wonder he's Sebastian Whitmore's best friend; they both have sharp tongues.

Before Isabella could respond, Andrew Miller introduced himself. "Hello, miss. I'm Andrew Miller; just call me Andy. So tell me, how did you win over Seb?"

Isabella put on a professional smile. "Hello, I'm Isabella, Mr. Whitmore's secretary."

"Secretary?" Andrew Miller looked back and forth between Isabella and Sebastian Whitmore. "So she's not your girlfriend?"

Sebastian Whitmore gave him a cold look. "When did I say she was?"

Andrew Miller sat next to Sebastian Whitmore with an awkward smile. "Seb, your taste is unique even when choosing a secretary. When will we meet our future Mrs. Whitmore?"

Sebastian Whitmore easily shut him down with one sentence: "Are you itching for trouble and no longer care about living?"

The implication was clear: he could end his life prematurely.

Andrew Miller quickly shut his mouth.

Isabella glanced at Sebastian Whitmore out of the corner of her eye; indeed, just as rumored—tough and taciturn.

"Let's drink," Andrew Miller wisely changed the subject. "Seb, I've brought out my best collection tonight."

Andrew Miller personally poured drinks while Sebastian Whitmore's brow furrowed slightly as he looked at Isabella. "Sit down and drink."

"Mr. Whitmore, I can't hold my liquor..." Isabella hesitated; her drinking habits were poor, and last time she drank too much, it caused a big incident.

Sebastian Whitmore's brows knit slightly tighter. "What? Are you afraid you'll get drunk and I'll take advantage of you?"

Isabella blurted out without thinking: "No, I'm afraid I'll get drunk and take advantage of you."

"Pfft." Andrew Miller couldn't hold back any longer and spat out his drink laughing. "Sorry Seb, I couldn't help it."