Business Partner

Lingling sat at the breakfast table, her coffee untouched, scrolling through her phone with a furrowed brow. Her usual sharp composure was tinged with an unusual nervousness. Across from her, Orm sipped her own coffee, watching Lingling with mild concern.

"Everything okay, Ling?" Orm asked, leaning forward.

Lingling looked up, her expression briefly softening. "Yes, just a busy day ahead."

Orm raised an eyebrow, noticing how Lingling's hand tightened around her phone. "You sure? You've been quiet all morning."

Lingling stood abruptly, grabbing her bag. "I'm fine. Just a big day at work." She leaned over to give Orm a quick goodbye kiss, her usual lingering affection replaced by a hurried peck. "I'll see you tonight."

Before Orm could respond, Lingling was already out the door, leaving Orm staring after her with a growing sense of unease.

Unbeknownst to Orm, Lingling was nervous about finalizing a major business deal. Working closely with a notoriously bold and flirtatious business partner, only added to her stress.

Later that day, Orm and Becky strolled through the mall parking lot, bags in hand. They were heading back to Orm's car when Becky stopped abruptly.

"Hey, isn't that Lingling?" Becky asked, pointing ahead.

Orm followed her gaze and froze. There, standing by Lingling's sleek black car, was Lingling herself—and a woman standing far too close for Orm's liking, her hand brushing Lingling's arm as she laughed at something Lingling had said. Lingling appeared tense but didn't move away.

The moment looked far too intimate.

"Who's that?" Orm asked sharply, her tone cutting through the air.

Becky squinted. "No clue, but she looks like trouble. And why is she laughing like that?"

Orm's mood darkened as she watched Lingling open the passenger door for the woman. Without so much as a glance around, Lingling climbed into the driver's seat, and the car pulled away.

"Well," Becky said, breaking the silence, "that was... weird."

Orm's jaw tightened, and she didn't respond as she walked briskly toward her own car. Becky jogged to keep up.

"You're probably overthinking this," Becky said, trying to sound casual. "You're probably overthinking, you know. Lingling's a one-woman type, and that woman is you."

Orm forced a tight smile but remained silent, her mind replaying the scene over and over.

Back at home, Orm sat on the couch, her phone in hand. She had sent Lingling a simple text— Hey, how's your day going? —but the message remained unanswered.

Becky plopped down next to her, holding a bowl of popcorn. "Alright, enough brooding. Ling's probably drowning in meetings or something."

Orm sighed. "She always replies, even if she's busy. And that woman—who even was she?"

Becky shrugged. "A business partner? A colleague? Someone who tells bad jokes? Seriously, Ling's obsessed with you. You're overthinking."

Despite Becky's reassurances, Orm couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that something wasn't right. The memory of the unknown woman touch lingered in her mind. Finally, she stood. "I need to go to her office."

Becky frowned. "Now? Don't you think that's a bit... much?"

"No," Orm said firmly, grabbing her keys. "I need to know what's going on.

When Orm arrived at Lingling's office, she found the door slightly ajar. Voices drifted out—one of them unmistakably Lingling's, but the other was unfamiliar. It was smooth, confident, and flirtatious.

"You know, Lingling," the woman was saying, her voice carrying a teasing lilt, "you're the kind of woman who leaves a lasting impression. It's rare to meet someone as captivating as you."

Orm's chest tightened as she stepped closer to the door. Through the crack, she saw the woman perched casually on the edge of Lingling's desk, her body leaning toward Lingling. Lingling was sitting stiffly in her chair, her expression focused on a stack of papers in front of her. The woman's hand brushed Lingling's shoulder lightly as she leaned in, speaking softly.

To Orm, the scene looked damning.

Taking a deep breath, Orm pushed the door open. The sound made both women look up. The woman straightened, a sly smile spreading across her face as she sized up Orm.

"Ah," the woman said smoothly, "you must be the girlfriend. Lingling's mentioned you once or twice."

Orm's eyes flicked to Lingling, who blinked in confusion. "And you are?" Orm asked, her voice sharp.

"Nittha," she replied, her tone dripping with confidence. "Lingling's partner—strictly business, of course." She paused, her gaze lingering on Orm. "Though I have to say, Lingling never told me her girlfriend was this charming."

Orm's fists clenched. "What the hell is going on here?"

Lingling finally spoke, her voice calm but puzzled. "Orm, what are you doing here? We're in the middle of something important."

Nittha smirked. "Yes, very important."

Orm's frustration boiled over. "I can see that. Seems like you're really busy, Ling."

Lingling tilted her head, clearly not understanding the implication. "Yes, we are. This deal is crucial."

Something about Orm's expression made Lingling falter. She glanced at Nittha, who was clearly enjoying the chaos, and then back at Orm. For the first time, doubt crept into her voice. "Orm, wait—"

But Orm had already turned on her heel and stormed out, her mind spinning.

As the door slammed shut, Lingling blinked at the now-empty doorway. "What just happened?" she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.

Nittha smirked again. "Trouble in paradise, I assume?"

In the hallway, Freen was passing by, a coffee cup in hand. She straightened when she saw Orm storm past, her expression thunderous.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Freen said, stepping in front of Orm. "What happened? You look like you're about to murder someone."

"Not now, Freen," Orm snapped, brushing past her.

Freen frowned, glancing toward Lingling's office. "Let me guess—Lingling?"

Orm didn't reply, her footsteps echoing down the corridor as she disappeared around the corner. Freen shook her head and took a sip of her coffee. "Yep. Definitely Lingling."

When Lingling returned to the penthouse that evening, the first thing she noticed was the silence. Orm's jacket wasn't on the rack, and her shoes weren't by the door. A pang of worry settled in her chest.

She called Orm's phone, but it went straight to voicemail. She tried again, and this time, Orm picked up.

"What do you want, Ling?" Orm's voice was cold, distant.

"Where are you?" Lingling asked softly.

"At Becky's," Orm replied curtly. "I'm staying here tonight."

Lingling's heart sank. "Orm, please, I can explain—"

"I don't want to hear it right now, Ling," Orm interrupted. "I just... need space."

The line went dead before Lingling could respond. She stared at her phone, her chest tightening with guilt and frustration. Sitting down on the couch, Lingling let out a heavy sigh.

"I really messed up, didn't I?" she murmured to herself.