Eva sat in the Foster mansion's living room, sharing lighthearted laughter with her parents. It was a balm to her heart, spending time with Asher and Nora after believing for so long that they were lost forever. Their bond was growing stronger, and Eva felt grateful for this unexpected reunion.

Meanwhile, Irene had a mission. She made her way to Foster Industries, a determined glint in her eyes as she strode to the receptionist’s desk.

“Excuse me, can I meet Tristan Foster?” Irene asked politely.

“Sorry, miss, but if you don’t have an appointment, I’m unable to let you in,” the receptionist replied firmly.

Irene frowned but remained calm. “Could you call him and tell him Irene King is here?”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, miss,” the receptionist insisted.

Before Irene could argue further, a sultry woman with dark hair approached the desk. The receptionist’s demeanor shifted instantly, her smile bright. “Miss White, Mr. Foster is in his office.”

Irene watched the exchange, confusion and irritation bubbling within her. “Does she have an appointment?” Irene asked.

“I don’t need one,” Miss White interjected haughtily.

“And who are you?” Irene asked, her irritation now visible.

The woman smirked. “I’m Mr. Foster’s girlfriend. Surely you’ve heard of White Corporation? I could erase your existence if you decide to be an issue.” With that, she strutted toward Tristan’s office.

“Girlfriend?” Irene chuckled darkly. “Tristan you’re dead meat.”

In his office, Tristan felt a chill creep up his spine just as Miss White entered without knocking. She perched herself on his desk, leaning forward.

“Tristan,” she cooed, “I missed you.” She leaned closer, her intention clear.

Tristan immediately pushed his chair back and stood, glaring at her. “Get out. Now,” he snapped, his voice cold.

Before Miss White could respond, his phone buzzed. Tristan answered, his expression softening when he heard Irene’s voice, trembling with tears.

“Tris,” Irene said, sobbing. “The receptionist won’t let me in, but some woman claiming to be your girlfriend waltzed right past.”

“What?” Tristan’s voice sharpened. “I’m coming now. Wait for me, Princess.” He turned to his assistant. “Escort the trash out of my office.”

Miss White’s jaw dropped. “Trash? Surely you don’t mean me,” she said indignantly, but Tristan was already out the door.

In the lobby, Irene stood with her arms crossed, feigning tears as Tristan approached, panic written all over his face. He pulled her into his arms.

“My love, don’t cry. What happened?” he asked gently, his voice full of concern.

As employees watched their normally cold boss display such tenderness, Tristan turned to the receptionist. “How did you let trash into my office but made my Princess cry?” His tone was razor-sharp.

“I-I thought Miss White was your girlfriend,” the receptionist stammered.

“Miss White was never my girlfriend. You’re fired,” Tristan said curtly before guiding Irene toward his office.

As soon as they reached his office, Irene excused herself. “I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” she said sweetly before walking back to the lobby.

She approached Miss White with a smirk. “I love him, and you’d better not come between us.”

Miss White scoffed. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you won’t win.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?” Irene replied coolly. “Do you know who I am?”

“I don’t care who you are,” Miss White sneered. “But based on your outfit, I’d guess some low-class girl trying to sleep her way up.”

“I’m Irene King,” Irene said, her voice laced with venom. “The only Princess of King Corporation.”

Miss White froze before bursting into laughter. “Liar. Irene King is my best friend.”

“When did I ever have such shitty friends?” Irene laughed back.

At that moment, Lucas walked over. “Oh, Lucas,” Miss White said. “Do you know this woman? She’s claiming to be Irene King.”

Lucas smirked and looked at Irene. “Princess,” he said warmly.

“Yes, Brother Lucas,” Irene replied with a smile.

Miss White’s face paled as she realized her mistake. Lucas took Irene’s arm, and the two walked away, leaving Miss White standing there, seething with anger.

“She may have taken Tristan, but I still have Alex King as a backup,” Miss White muttered under her breath. “I’ll teach Irene a lesson she won’t forget.”

Back in Tristan’s office, Irene returned to find him pacing. He immediately walked over and hugged her. “Are you okay now?” he asked, his concern still evident.

“I am, but you should keep a tighter leash on the trash,” Irene teased, earning a soft chuckle from Tristan.

“Don’t worry. She won’t be coming back,” Tristan assured her.

“Good,” Irene said, wrapping her arms around him. “Because you’re mine.”

“And you’re mine, Princess,” Tristan said, his voice filled with love.