When the Boss’ Lady Became His Sister-in-law

“Come with me. Mr. FitzGerald is blowing a gasket.” York sighed, beckoning Kristin to follow

him.

Kristin dabbed at her tears to compose herself and followed York, her head bowed.

“What’s the deal with you? What were you up to last night? Got a guilty conscience?” As soon as they entered the hotel, the receptionist from last night spotted Kristin and stormed over, fuming. “That ID of yours was a fake, wasn’t it?”

Kristin said nothing and just kept her head down.

York frowned, about to ask what was going on when Rhett stepped out of the elevator.

The receptionist hurried over. “Mr. FitzGerald, did you sleep well last night?”

Rhett’s face darkened, his gaze locked onto Kristin. Kristin, too scared to meet his eyes, stood there awkwardly.

Ignoring everyone else, Rhett made a beeline for Kristin. She bit her lip nervously and took a retreat step, her hands anxiously clasped together.

With a low and oppressive voice, Rhett lifted Kristin’s hair.

She felt a burning touch where his fingertips met her skin and tried to dodge, but Rhett caught her wrist.

“Where did you go?” Rhett was oppressive.

Tears welled up in Kristin’s eyes, her voice hoarse with unspoken grievances. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t find you. It’s all my fault…”

She was crying now, scared to let Rhett know the truth, so she lied. “I’m sorry, please don’t fire

me.”

Kristin tried hard not to cry, but she was terrified and afraid that Rhett didn’t want her anymore. She really needed him now.

“Fire you? Why?” Rhett murmured, his intimidating aura visibly dissipating almost with a hint of relief.

York was dumbfounded. What had gotten into Mr. FitzGerald?

“I couldn’t find you last night.” Kristin continued through her tears.

Rhett softened his voice. “Alright, go freshen up.

York was speechless. Was he hallucinating? Why was Rhett’s tone so tender with Kristin, as if dripping with honey?

Kristin nodded and moved to leave, but Rhett caught her wrist again, touching her forehead without any regard for the onlookers, checking for a fever.

His expression darkened as he noticed Kristin’s flushed cheeks. “Go rest. Fil have breakfast sent up.”

“But….” Kristin glanced nervously at the time.

“Don’t worry. We don’t leave until two in the afternoon. It’s only half–past seven now,” Rhett explained with patience.

York touched his forehead, wondering if he was coming down with something too.

Rhett had just been played and York thought he’d be in a wrathful state.

But this was uncanny and more frightening than Rhett in a murderous mood.

“Go get some cold medicine,” Rhett turned, his voice icy.

York felt a cold shiver run down his spine. This firm and impersonal demeanor – that was the Mr. Fitzgerald he was familiar with. But why was it that he was so chilly and imposing towards him, yet showed such gentleness to Kristin? In his mind. York couldn’t help but grapple with the seeming injustice of it all.

The reception staff were petrified, nervously exchanging glances. Was this woman… really Mr. FitzGerald’s assistant?

Why had their manager asked them to stop her last night?

Kristin wiped away her tears and approached the front desk. My 10, please.” Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

The receptionist, terrified, quickly handed over her ID. “I’m sorry.”

Kristin left without a word, staggering slightly as she entered the elevator.

Her head was spinning.

As soon as Kristin was in the elevator, Rhett’s soft gaze turned icy.

York pinched himself, which wasn’t an illusion.

“Mr. FitzGerald…”

“Why was Kristin’s ID at the front desk?” Rhett demanded, his voice heavy.

The receptionist hesitated. “Last night… Sorry, we thought Ms. Turner was…”

“What?” Rhett furrowed his brow, his patience wearing thin.

“A whore.” the receptionist blurted out, trembling. “Mr. FitzGerald, it wasn’t our fault, we didn’t know Ms. Turner was your assistant.”

As Rhett’s gaze turned frostier and the two young women at the front desk turned pale, their voices quivering.

“The manager gave us a photo and told us to stop her. He said she might be a whore,” the receptionist mumbled, head bowed.

Rhett scoffed.

Someone was playing a dangerous game.

They’d targeted Rhett and now dared to mess with Kristin.

“Investigation is needed. Fire and sue those involved in this incident. Blacklist them in the industry if necessary,” Rhett glanced at York and walked out of the hotel.

“Mr. FitzGerald!” York inhaled sharply, realizing last night’s incident had hit Rhett’s last nerve.

An industry–wide blacklist meant not only unemployment for the hotel management but lawsuits and a permanent ban from the hospitality industry.

“Mr. FitzGerald, your dining area is on the second floor. Where are you going?” York asked, his voice filled with anxiety.

“To get medicine,” Rhett said, his face etched with concern.

“Huh? I’ll go,” York hadn’t caught up yet.

“No need, handle the hotel situation,” Rhett warned, pointing at York. “Make sure anyone who gave Kristin a hard time last night gets what they deserve.”

York was momentarily lost. Their formidable CEO of the FitzGerald Group was personally going to get medicine for his assistant.

“Mr. FitzGerald, during our last business trip, I was so sick I could have kicked the bucket, and you didn’t even bother to get me any medicines,” York grumbled with a note of jealousy.

“What’s the matter? Are you my wife or something?” Rhett retorted with disdain, giving York a sidelong glance before striding away.

York stood rooted to the spot, so shocked that it took him an eternity to recover his wits..

Rhett’s comment had jogged York’s memory. Kristin wasn’t just the CEO’s assistant but Rhett’s contractual wife, too.

York was so mind–blinded.

After a steaming hot shower, Kristin staggered out of the bathroom, her head spinning so much she could hardly stand.

“Good morning, madam, I’ve brought your breakfast,” came the hotel staff through the door.

Kristin, weak and breathless, opened the door to see a cart laden with a sumptuous breakfast being wheeled in.

“Mr. FitzGerald…” Kristin faltered for a second as she saw Rhett standing outside.

Catching Kristin before she could lose her balance, Rhett instinctively pulled her into his arms.

That familiar scent was unmistakably hers.

“Please leave us,” he gestured to the staff. Once they were gone, Rhett scooped Kristin up and

12:03

laid her back on the bed.

Kristin was too nervous to breathe, her heart racing.

“Where did you go to freeze half to death?” Rhett scolded, his annoyance apparent. He couldn’t fathom why Kristin would run off like that. What did she think he’d do to her?

If he hadn’t been smart enough to leave his mark on her last night with a bite, was Kristin planning to sleep with him and then shirk responsibility?

Kristin sniffled and burrowed into the blankets, covering herself completely, leaving only her eyes visible. She felt guilty.

“Have your medicine,” Rhett chided as he prepared the hot drink with a cold remedy for her.

Kristin looked at Rhett through blurred vision. Why was he being so nice to her?

“Kristin, drink up. We need to talk about something about six years ago…” Rhett stirred the cold remedy, intending to have a serious talk and settle some old accounts with Kristin, but when he turned back, he found that Kristin had already fallen asleep.

She was too exhausted and worn out to stay awake.