Venessa's Pov

I sat behind the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the sea of brake lights ahead. It was a standstill. Different thoughts jumbled though my mind. Each one more frustrating, hurtful, and infuriating than the last.

I pressed the horn again and again, as if that would magically clear the traffic and somehow undo the pains inside. From when did things went wrong? I wondered. Was it when I threw that birthday party for Rowland, trying to impress him with my attention? Or was it when I started to develop feelings for him, foolishly thinking he might feel the same way? The memories now felt like a cruel joke. I sighed, feeling a lump form in my throat as a wave of despair washed over me.

Hoping to distract myself from the turmoil inside, I turned on the radio... I heard it - the familiar voice of Diva, my father's favorite radio presenter, booming through the speakers.

Memories came flooding back. I remembered visiting my parents few months ago, but what stuck in my mind was the conversation we had over dinner that day. The weight of my father's expectations which settled heavy on my shoulders.

His words still echoed in my mind, a constant reminder of the pressure I was under.

"You know your success this year is crucial, and I believe you understand the importance of it."

It felt like a plea but at the same time a command. I had always lived the life my parents wanted, always striving to be the best.

I took a deep breath, wiped away the strand of tears that gushed down my cheeks, letting out a resolute sigh.

My mind wandered back to the project Sophie was to handle. What was it about? I would have at least discovered what the exact project was about. I blamed myself for being too quick-witted, too proud, too blinded by my own ego.

Even though I heard from Mr. Rowland that it involves Thistle Oil and Gas, the one place I would like to avoid going to.

As the traffic began to move, I felt the growing urge to take control of the situation. I needed to do something. The first thing that came to my mind was How would my father feel discovering that I had lost another chance with the Thistles? To think the project was one enough to grant me the promotion I wanted made me sad.

Though there's only one person I could talk to, Jamie, an old friend of mine and the sole heir to Thistle Oil and Gas. He would know exactly what the project was about, and maybe, just maybe, he could help me. But could I swallow my pride and ask for his help after our last encounter had been.........

I took a deep breath, tried to push aside the sense of vulnerability that came with admitting I needed him. I had to try, no matter how hard it was, no matter how much it hurt.

Immediately, I turned the car around, headed towards Jamie's family home. My mind rehearsed the conversation we would have. Would he help me? Or would he turn me away, like I had turned him away before? The memory of our past encounter still lingered.

As I pulled into the parking lot, a cold wave crashed against my spine. I took a deep breath, stepped out of the car. My legs heavy like lead weights. As I approached the door, my heart pounded like a drum.

I hesitated then rang the door bell, within some minutes, the door swung open, revealing Jamie's surprised face.

"Look who's here!..... ," he exclaimed.

His voice neutral, but his eyes betrayed a hint of curiosity and wariness.

I forced a smile onto my face, hiding my nervousness, anxiety, and desperation.

"I'm sorry, Jamie. I...," I began, but he cut me off.

"Come on in," he said, holding the door open, his gesture was more like an obligation than an invitation.

I stepped inside, followed him into the living room, composed myself to shake off the feeling of being an unwelcome guest.

"Make yourself at home...ahh, don't worry, mom is away," he said.

His eyes sparkled with amusement, but his tone, a subtle jab, reminding of my past deception.

I felt a flush rise to my cheeks as I remembered the last time I had been in that apartment, the confrontation with Mrs. Grace, the denial of my relationship with Jamie. Now, here I was, begging for his help, my pride in tatters.

"Thank you, Jamie. Actually, I came to ask for your help. Is there a chance I could be assigned to the project?" I inquired.

"Which project?" He asked

"The one handled by Regan" I replied.

Jamie raised an eyebrow, his eyes pierced through my facade. "Why?"

I hesitated. "Because I...I...need it," I stammered.

Jamie looked at me, his expression unreadable, his eyes gave nothing away.

"Hmm... I'm afraid that's not under my jurisdiction to do so. I hope you understand." He responded.

A pang of disappointment washed over me as I nodded.

"Thanks for your time, Jamie." I turned to leave, as I reached the door, he called out to me, his voice felt like a parting shot.

"Venessa?"

I turned back, hoped against hope that he would give me a good news

"Yes?"

"Good luck with your career," he said, his eyes glinted with a hint of sarcasm.

I forced a smile onto my face, hiding the pang of regret deep inside as I stepped out.