CEO's Tears Over Pregnancy Test Discovery

"Miss Lydia, are you alright? Maybe you should go to the hospital or call Mr. Quincy."

"The stuff online isn't always true, don't worry too much about it."

"Yeah, don't let it get to you."

The people who were gossiping just moments ago suddenly acted concerned, crowding around Lydia with worried faces. But their concern didn't warm her, it left her feeling cold.

Ignoring their offers to help, Lydia grabbed one of the employees from the planning department and asked, "Where is Quincy?"

The planning department was right next to Quincy's office. The employee informed her that Quincy was inside his office, but the door was locked.

Not wasting another second, Lydia rushed over, leaving the group behind. When she arrived, she found the door locked, and even Quincy's assistant was standing outside, unable to enter. "Miss Lydia, you're here! We can't get in. Quincy saw something on his phone earlier and then locked us all out," the assistant explained, frustration clear in his voice. "He's never like this." Lydia muttered to herself, "He saw something on his phone?"

"Yeah, he's usually not like this," the assistant repeated, shaking his head in annoyance. "I hope he opens the door soon. There's an important meeting in half an hour, and we don't even know how we're going to manage it." Lydia took a deep breath and began pounding on the door.

"Quincy, open the door! Whatever it is, let's talk about it face-to-face! It's not what you think!" she shouted, hitting the door so hard her hand turned red.

The assistant, watching her, gently advised, "Miss Lydia, you should stop. Look at your hand, it's all red. Quincy would never want you to hurt yourself like this."

But Lydia didn't listen, continuing to knock until suddenly, the door swung open.

Quincy stepped out, immediately taking her hand into his, his face showing concern. He scolded her lightly but his tone was gentle, "Why do you always hurt yourself like this? If I didn't open the door, you didn't need to keep knocking." "That's not an option!" Lydia retorted, refusing to back down. "I'll keep knocking if that's what it takes."

Quincy led her inside, found a box of ointment, and carefully applied it to her hand. Throughout the entire time, he didn't say much, only asking if it hurt. He showed concern, but there was no sign that he had seen the rumors online, and Lydia couldn't tell what he was thinking,

In that moment, Lydia felt like she was being thrown into a pot of water that was slowly heating up. The water

uncoiling yet, but the

uncertainty was unbearable. She was caught in a painful limbo, waiting for the inevitable, unsure if things would boil over.

Finally, she spoke up, "Quincy, you've probably seen what's going around online, right?"

Quincy hesitated for a moment before nodding.

"How do you feel about me?" Lydia asked, her eyes locked on his.

What she really wanted to ask was if he believed her. But when the words reached her lips, they changed. Maybe it was because she was afraid of the answer, afraid that it wouldn't be what she hoped, afraid she wouldn't be able to handle it.

"I believe you," Quincy answered firmly, meeting her anxious gaze head-on. "I was the one who brought you off that yacht that night, remember? I'm the one who took you away from Eugene. Do you really not remember?"

So, she chose the question that seemed to hurt the least.