Rachel blushed. “Stop it! Don’t be like that!”

Tracy was furious, believing Matthew was making a suggestive advance. More surprising, however, was Rachel's reaction; the "Icy Beauty" persona she usually projected around men vanished, replaced by a shy demeanor resembling that of a young wife. Could it be that Rachel actually liked this man—a divorced ex-convict, and, in Tracy's estimation, a pervert?

Matthew raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, ‘don’t be like that’? I’m just the chauffeur. Handling this isn't my job. Since I helped you get that article retracted, I deserve a bonus, don't I?”

Rachel immediately understood. She began, “My bad, I misunderstood. I thought…” She stopped, realizing the inappropriateness of her thoughts.

Matthew caught her drift. He teased, “Oh, I get it. You thought I wanted a kiss. Why would you think that? Is it because of that illness of yours that needs my ‘special’ treatment?”

Rachel blushed furiously. He'd brought it up again. His intentions seemed obvious, yet she gritted her teeth, silent.

Tracy, hearing about Rachel's illness, worried. “Rae, what’s wrong?”

Rachel refused to elaborate. “Don’t listen to his nonsense. There’s nothing wrong with me.” Discussing her illness was deeply embarrassing; it supposedly required sex with a man—a claim she dismissed as Matthew’s fabrication to seduce her.

Tracy sensed tension and resolved to question Rachel later.

Back at Wealthwave Group, Rachel and Tracy returned to the office. Matthew went to the logistics department's break room, where security guards, cleaners, and drivers rested. The head of security was absent, and the logistics manager had been dismissed, leaving the area leaderless. Some employees watched videos, others drank tea or chatted.

Zachary Turner, campaigning for votes, was shocked to see Matthew. This man looked unlike the usual office worker. Could he be the new head of security? Zachary, to find out, offered Matthew a cigarette. “Haven’t seen you before. Are you new here?”

Matthew accepted the cigarette, tucking it behind his ear. He'd quit smoking after his daughter was born. “Yeah, I’m kind of new.”

Zachary smiled. “You don’t look like a security guard. Are you here for the head of security position?”

Matthew shook his head. “I’m a chauffeur.”

Zachary was relieved, believing his promotion chances remained strong. “If you need anything, let me know. I know everyone here. You know Ms. Carter, right? The famous ‘Icy Beauty.’ She smiled at me once—I’m quite charming, you see.” He bragged about Rachel’s one-time smile, recalling how he’d helped her carry boxes on her first day.

Matthew, realizing Zachary was exploiting Rachel to advance himself, feared inappropriate remarks. He clarified, “Actually, Ms. Carter is my girlfriend.”

Zachary scoffed. “Come on, stop dreaming. Several guys in security say the same thing. They can’t even talk to her. Have you ever spoken to her?”

Matthew was surprised. “I’ve been to her house; I’ve met her parents. Of course, I’ve talked to her.”

Zachary sneered. “Been to her house? Give me a break. If you’re going to lie, at least be believable. Why don’t you just say you’ve slept in her bed?”

Matthew nodded. “I’ve slept in her bed too. It’s too soft, actually, uncomfortable.”

Zachary interrupted. “Stop, I can’t take this anymore. How much have you had to drink?”

Matthew shrugged. “Believe it or not.”