Chapter 3 Three Years Later

Three years later.

The towering FC Group building, reaching into the clouds, stood prominently like a landmark in the heart of Silvanburg's center.

Cecilia emerged from the conference room carrying a stack of documents. Her assistant, Tara, and secretary, Stacey, immediately held their breath, hastily attempting to conceal the gossip magazine in front of them. But it was too late.

“Ma... Madam,” Tara stammered, timidly glancing at Cecilia before quickly lowering her head.

Cecilia set down the documents and cast a glance at the magazine cover.

The man on the cover looked as handsome as he had three years ago. His refined features had only matured with time, exuding a sensual charm.

Alston wore a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, confidently embracing the woman beside him. His smile was carefree, as if he didn’t remember he was married.

The woman beside Alston was FC Entertainment’s latest rising star—tall and voluptuous, not particularly stunning, but bearing faint hints of Marian in her features.

The headline read: ‘Sandy Jeffery Stays Overnight at The Baycrest Manor, Adding Another to Alston Faber's Harem.’

“Sandy Jeffery? Her face is average, but she’s a bit overweight,” Cecilia remarked, her clear eyes scanning the page. Her tone was unusually calm. “Notify her manager to have her lose twenty pounds, or our marketing department won’t promote her.”

Tara and Stacey froze in shock. They had expected Cecilia to be upset or distressed, but her complete detachment caught them off guard.

Not only that, she subtly punished the other party.

Sandy was known for her curvy figure, but even at her heaviest, she couldn’t have weighed over a hundred pounds. Losing twenty pounds would leave her at eighty pounds with a height of five foot seven.

What would she look like then?

If she couldn’t lose the weight, and the marketing department refused to promote her, what difference was there between that and being abandoned?

It was well-known that FC Entertainment’s artists either had to win over the PR department or the marketing team to gain prominence.

The PR director, Radford, was a college classmate of their director. Without marketing support, Sandy’s prospects were bleak.

“What’s wrong? Didn’t you hear me?” Cecilia asked, tapping the table.

Tara, feeling worried, whispered, “Director, are you alright?”

Cecilia’s gaze dimmed.

If this had been three years ago, she might have clung to that magazine and fallen into a deep depression for days. Ten years ago, she might have drowned her sorrows at a bar, drinking herself into oblivion.

But now, she truly was fine.

No matter how deep emotions ran, they couldn’t withstand the erosion of time.

Moreover, in these three years, Alston had given her nothing but bone-chilling despair and endless waiting.

“I’m fine,” Cecilia replied, straightening her posture and smiling brightly. “But what about you? Oakwood Residences is launching soon, and Alston needs to appear. How will we explain today’s headlines to the media? Quickly inform the PR department so they can align the story and not disrupt the launch.”

Tara was startled. “Does that mean the opening ceremony will proceed as usual tomorrow?”

Cecilia’s eyes sparkled as she casually responded, “As usual.”

She took a few steps forward, then paused, turning back with a smile. “If possible, bring Sandy along. I want this project to generate as much momentum as possible.”

“Alright, I’ll arrange it,”

Tara said quickly, knowing Cecilia never went back on her word. She hurried toward the general manager’s office on the sixty-eighth floor.

***

“Sir, this is the speech the marketing department just sent over. They mentioned you should attend the ceremony tomorrow as usual, with no need to avoid it,” Secretary Boyce said, handing over the documents.

A large hand reached out to take them. The leather strap on Alston’s wrist and the prominent veins on the back of his hand complemented each other.

Alston glanced at the documents, a hint of darkness appearing in his otherwise calm eyes. “Didn’t Cecilia see the magazine this morning?”

“She… she did,” Boyce gritted his teeth.

“What was her reaction?” Alston asked casually, flipping through the documents.

“No reaction,” Boyce answered, lowering his head.

Everyone knew about the indifferent relationship between him and Cecilia.

Alston’s eyes darkened further, something fracturing within the icy depths of his gaze.

Seeing Alston’s silence, Boyce assumed he had accepted the situation and continued, “The marketing department also suggested that you bring Sandy along to enhance the ceremony’s grandeur. Oakwood Residences is the largest project in the eastern district, and this year’s real estate performance heavily depends on it.”

“Bring Sandy along? Hah...” Alston let out a mocking laugh, his lips curling into a blade-like smirk. “Was that the marketing department’s idea, or Cecilia’s?”

Boyce’s expression shifted slightly as he lowered his head. “It was Director Cecilia’s suggestion.”

Alston lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag before exhaling lightly, half his face veiled in smoke.

That woman really had some skills.

She not only carried someone else’s child and manipulated his mother but also effortlessly married him.

In these three years, she had even gained his father’s approval, who personally brought her into FC Group.

Starting as a small manager in the marketing department, she climbed her way to become the director and even joined the board of directors.

The once-infamous and scorned socialite hadn’t been ostracized by FC Group’s clearly tiered corporate culture but instead had successfully established her own reputation in the workplace.

Alston couldn’t shake the feeling that Cecilia was too scheming.

Ever since driving Marian away three years ago, she had plotted step by step. It wasn’t just about marrying him—she aimed to seize everything. Somehow, she had ingratiated herself with his family, even winning over his stern father.

“Sir?” Boyce called out to him when he seemed lost in thought.

“Hmm.”

Alston remained composed, showing no trace of the anger boiling within him.

“As for tomorrow’s opening ceremony, are you attending?” Boyce asked. “I recall you have a meeting scheduled with Mr. Trafford.”

“Of course, I’ll go,” Alston replied, his gaze sharp. “If I don’t, am I supposed to watch Oakwood Residences’ success slip into someone else’s hands?”

Boyce’s lips twitched slightly. Could spouses really be referred to as “someone else”?

He didn’t dare question it, only nodding. “Understood. I’ll make the arrangements.”