Chapter 9: Apply for A Translator Vacancy

She couldn't just say, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have married Matthew, and now you two can't be together because of me," could she? Those words sounded insincere, hollow even.

After all, their mothers had arranged this marriage. Was there anything she could really do about it?

Matthew's gaze bore into Dolores, his jaw clenched tightly as he took a deliberate step forward. An oppressive atmosphere hung in the air, causing Dolores to instinctively retreat.

"I didn't mean to upset you," she stammered, trying to ease the tension.

Helen gripped Matthew's arm, her voice pleading. "Matthew, please don't be angry. It's my fault. I shouldn't have said those things. You two are newlyweds, after all. I shouldn't have come here. You should go to bed. I'll go back home."

"You're not the one who should leave," Matthew declared, grabbing Helen's wrist and leading her upstairs.

Helen's heart swelled with joy. Although Matthew had made it clear he wanted to be with her, he had never actively shown it before. Matthew's actions left Helen overjoyed. After all, Helen wasn't the one who had been with him on that first night. She could only win his heart if she truly had sex with him.

Dolores didn't look up, silently turning and making her way to her room.

As Helen glanced back, she saw Dolores's slender figure about to enter her room. It suddenly reminded her of the woman from that fateful night.

On that night, Helen had suppressed her jealousy and hatred to find a virgin woman for Matthew. Sharing him had already pushed her to her limit.

She had paid little attention to the woman at the time, only catching a glimpse of her slim figure as she left. No wonder Dolores felt strangely familiar to Helen. That feeling didn't come out of nowhere.

The woman from that night might very well be Dolores. Whenever that idea crossed her mind, Helen's heart raced with fear and panic. She couldn't allow Dolores to stay with Matthew. She didn't want to continuously face the woman who had given her virginity to him. And she had to prevent them from being alone together for too long, in order to keep Matthew from discovering the truth. After all, Dolores was the woman who had been with him that night.

Once in her room, Helen let go of her inhibitions and immediately embraced Matthew, her slender arms encircling his waist. She buried her head in his chest and spoke tenderly, "Matthew, let me be your woman again."

As she leaned in for a kiss, Matthew hesitated. Despite Helen's forwardness, he lacked the desire and drive that a normal man should have. Except for that night, he had never considered making love to her.

Just as Helen's lips were about to meet his, he turned his head away, evading the kiss. Helen was left empty-handed.

"It's late already, let's go to bed," Matthew said, tugging at his collar, which was far from tight.

Restlessness tinged his demeanor. He wasn't sure why, but something felt off. Maybe it was because he didn't experience the usual desires a man should have toward Helen, making him feel abnormal.

Helen clenched her fists, her eyes welling up with tears. "Matthew, is it because you don't like me—"

"Don't worry too much about it," Matthew interrupted, his voice lowered as he placed an arm around her shoulder. "You can sleep here tonight."

Helen, being a woman, understood all too well what it meant if a man couldn't get excited about her body.

She obediently lay down on the bed, her eyes reddening as tears threatened to fall. She fought against the urge to let them flow.

Injustice burned within her, a desire to speak out, but she restrained herself, unwilling to make matters worse.

Matthew's heart quivered as he witnessed her reaction. That night, she had been just as composed. No matter what he did, she remained silent.

Recalling that night, Matthew's heart softened. He covered her with the blanket and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Don't worry too much. If we're married, I-I will definitely make love to you," he assured, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

Helen nodded, having spent enough time around Matthew to know his character well. Even if he didn't love her, he was bound by responsibility. And he would fulfill that responsibility.

Matthew removed his jacket and exited the room. He descended the stairs, placing the jacket on the sofa before settling down with his slender legs crossed on the coffee table. Leaning his head back on the sofa, he stifled a yawn.

In the early morning, Dolores finished washing up and changing clothes, while Matthew sat at the dining table engrossed in reading financial news. Helen, well aware of his preferences, brewed a pot of strong, steaming black coffee for him.

Coral had already prepared breakfast, and Dolores silently sat at the end of the table, distancing herself from them as she quietly ate her oatmeal with her head down.

Observing Dolores' meek demeanor, Coral furrowed her brows. If Dolores was Matthew's legal wife, why was she behaving so subserviently in front of a mistress?

Coral deliberately raised her voice. "Ms. Flores, please take your seat at the head of the table, next to the young master."

'Huh?' Dolores looked up, startled. Matthew also set aside his financial newspaper and turned his attention to Coral. Their gazes met, and both of them were taken aback. Recalling the coldness with which Matthew had regarded her the night before, Dolores was seized by a shiver of icy fear.

When Matthew was very young, his mother had passed away, and it was Coral who had taken care of him. He held great respect for her, which explained Coral's more informal manner of speaking to him.

For Dolores, her marriage to Matthew was merely a transaction where both parties gained their respective advantages. She believed she shouldn't interfere any more than necessary in his personal life.

Finishing her porridge, she smiled. "I'm done eating. Please take your time."

Based on what had transpired less than twelve hours ago, Dolores could tell that Matthew cared deeply for Helen, so it was best for her not to overstep the boundaries.

She swiftly made her exit, as if being pursued by a horde of beasts.

Matthew gazed at Dolores fleeing and narrowed his eyes slightly.

After pondering for a moment, he whispered, "Perhaps she doesn't feel comfortable with me around, in the future..."

Matthew placed a glass of milk in front of Helen. "She will leave in a month."

Helen lowered her eyes slightly. A month seemed unbearably long for her.

When Dolores returned to her room, she checked her phone and received a reply regarding the job application she had submitted. She was invited for an interview. After Matthew and Helen left the villa, Dolores hailed a cab and headed to the interview venue.

The WY Group Tower reached into the clouds, as if belonging to another world.

Dolores stood before the tower, taking a deep breath before stepping inside. As she hadn't graduated from university, finding a suitable job hadn't been easy for her. That's why she was filled with excitement at the opportunity for an interview.

In the waiting room, there were many well-dressed individuals holding resumes, appearing fully prepared for their interviews. Dolores, on the other hand, wore a white shirt and a pair of jeans. She felt slightly out of place among the others, not looking like a typical job applicant.

Ignoring the curious glances directed her way, she quietly stood to the side, waiting.

Nearly an hour passed before Dolores was called in.

Her experiences of washing dishes and delivering newspapers couldn't be deemed relevant work experience. Without a degree, there wasn't much she could put on her resume.

The interviewer frowned upon seeing her lack of work history. "How come you know the language of A Country?"

The question was understandable. After all, it wasn't a commonly spoken language. The job posting had been up for a while, yet there had been no applicants at all.

Unpleasant memories flooded Dolores' mind, and she clenched her hands to push them away. "I used to live there. To communicate better with the people, I learned their language and vocabulary..."

'This voice...'

As Helen passed by the HR waiting room, she heard a somewhat familiar voice. She peered inside and saw Dolores. Her heart raced with intensity.