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Beautiful Psychiatrist Transmigration

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Episode 14

The sun peeked shyly over the eastern horizon.

Standing before a door in a luxurious high-rise apartment building was Renata.

*Ding Dong*!

Nervously, Renata waited, surprised that the address sent by Mr. J was that of an apartment.

*Click*

The door opened, revealing a man in a satin robe, loosely tied, displaying a chest that flushed Renata's cheeks. Mr. J's bedhead look was undeniably sexy.

"You're late," Mr. J rasped, his voice rough from sleep.

Indeed, it was two minutes past six, whereas he had instructed her to arrive before six.

"Sorry, Mr. J. I had some trouble finding this place," Renata replied honestly, avoiding eye contact with the man's chiseled chest.

"Hmph, excuses," Mr. J responded, dismissing Renata's explanation. "Try coming earlier tomorrow. Your task is to wake me up."

"W-what?" Renata was taken aback. So that was why she was summoned to this apartment.

"Surprised? That's one of your duties as my Assistant."

"Oh, no, forgive me," Renata mumbled awkwardly.

"Come in," Mr. J turned and entered the apartment, with Renata following him.

Inside, Renata was greeted by a classically styled space exuding luxury and elegance. High ceilings commanded the room. Modern furniture. A minimalist couch and TV stand. A grand crystal chandelier at the center, paneled wall interiors, and scattered ornaments adorned the room.

In terms of size, Mr. J's apartment was extraordinarily spacious compared to regular apartments. Moreover, this residence boasted exclusive facilities and a lavish, high-class interior design.

The abode of the well-off indeed had the power to astonish.

Now, what was Renata to do here?

"Go make me breakfast; I want to shower first," Mr. J instructed, as if reading Renata's thoughts.

"Eh?"

"Don't tell me you can't cook," he sneered.

"I──"

"By appearance, you're hardly competent. You look like a spoiled child who squanders money. No surprise if you can't cook," Mr. J cut her off, belittling her.

Renata clenched her fists. "What do you know about me?"

Mr. J fell silent.

"You know nothing about me, so don't judge," Renata said, glaring at Mr. J in anger.

Mr. J stepped closer, his expression neutral, "I know exactly who you are."

*Thump*

Renata's heart raced.

Did Mr. J know she wasn't the real Angelica Renata Tan? How could he?

A slight smirk crossed Mr. J's lips, "Just admit it."

Renata swallowed hard, suddenly mute.

"Admit you're a heartless woman intent on stealing another's husband," he continued.

Renata's eyes widened in shock. Damn the man before her.

*Thud*

Renata kicked Mr. J's left shin, causing him to stagger backward, away from her.

"How dare you!" Mr. J exclaimed, clutching his pulsing leg.

"What right do you have to insult me, Mr. J?"

Renata fixed a piercing gaze on Mr. J, itching to kick the arrogant CEO again. She wouldn't mind if such an action resulted in her dismissal. After all, she longed to quit this vexing job.

Mr. J tried to compose himself, "I will──"

"Do what? Fire me? Go ahead," Renata interrupted fearlessly.

He fell silent, of course not intending to fire her.

Upon discovering Renata was a home wrecker, Mr. J harbored disdain for her. Betrayal, infidelity, the third wheel—he loathed them all. His motive for hiring Renata as his Assistant was to teach the supposed other woman a lesson.

A bitter past inflicted pain on Mr. J's soul, caused by a woman proclaiming to be his father's second wife. A woman who wrought suffering upon his mother and him.

Initially, Mr. J was attracted to Renata, but learning who she was turned his feelings to hate.

He targeted Renata for his revenge, fully aware she had no link to his past ordeals. Yet, aren't all interlopers the same? Cruel and shameless.

"I'll overlook this time," Mr. J finally said.

Renata's face displayed disapproval; she had hoped for a termination letter. She scoffed in response.

Subsequently, Mr. J turned toward his bedroom, commanding, "Do your job."

Renata watched Mr. J's retreating back with irritation. If this was the outcome, she regretted merely kicking him; she should've scratched that pretty face too.

Yes, admittedly handsome. And Renata doubted her resolve to mar a face that resembled her beloved.

"That face doesn't suit him. Why won't he just get plastic surgery?"

Renata grimaced, then got to work on her given task, heading for the kitchen as magnificent as the Tan family's. Opening the fridge, she was surprised by the array of ingredients—perhaps Mr. J liked to cook.

Renata started preparing a few simple dishes, of course, she knew how to cook—Mr. J's underestimation irked her since she was, in fact, a mother of one.

A chuckle escaped her lips; her actual age far exceeded the youth of her current body. She was no stranger to life's tribulations and refused to be demeaned, especially not by younger fictional characters.

Oh, they should respect their elders.

"I have an idea," Renata thought devilishly.

Into the simmering soup, she ladled an excessive amount of chili powder.

"Enjoy."

Forty-five minutes later, breakfast was ready on the dining table.

Mr. J entered, neatly dressed in the CEO's signature expensive suit.

"Sit."

"No, that's alright," Renata declined.

"Never countermand my orders."

Renata reluctantly complied, choosing the third seat away from Mr. J. Distance was crucial around those she disliked.

Mr. J was indifferent to her caution; proximity to the despised girl held no appeal for him.

In essence, they kept their respective distances.