Chapter 21 – Rumors and Razor Blades

Mannie’s POV

By noon, I was a walking rumor.

Not a person. Not a mother. Just a story.

“She’s so gorgeous, the CEO couldn’t resist her…”

“I heard she sprayed water on him—on purpose! To seduce him!”

“No way, I heard he was so flustered, he ran out the cafeteria. That woman’s dangerous.”

It was like I couldn’t breathe without someone twisting the air around it.

Every hallway I walked through felt like a tunnel of stares.

Every corner held whispers.

Every elevator had people turning their backs or pretending to be busy just so they could eavesdrop better.

And worst of all?

I had to keep my head up.

I had to act like it didn’t bother me.

But it did.

God, it did.

The lies weren’t even smart. They didn’t have to be.

It was enough that I was a woman. Enough that I was new, that I didn’t belong to anyone powerful.

That I dared to exist without bowing my head.

I walked into the marketing department and all conversation stopped. Not even subtly.

“Hey Mannie,” one of the interns tried to smile, his face awkward like he didn’t know which side to land on. “Cool weather, huh?”

Cool weather.

Seriously?

I nodded stiffly and sat at my desk. My fingers hovered over the keyboard. They didn’t move. Neither did the lump in my throat.

I wasn’t even mad anymore.

I was tired.

Tired of fighting air. Tired of pretending these people had sense. Tired of hoping for logic in a place ruled by envy and fear.

Dominic had defended me, sure. But now that only added fuel.

“Of course she’s special. Didn’t you see the way he looked at her?”

“She’s gotta be sleeping with him. There’s no other way she’s still here.”

I wanted to scream.

But instead, I worked.

“She’s the one who made the president lose his mind.”

“I heard she poured water on him in front of everyone and he let her.”

“No, no, she seduced him in the cafeteria with her eyes and scared him off when she snapped.”

“She’s crazy.”

“She’s dangerous.”

“She’s lucky.”

The office was a furnace of whispers, fueled by jealousy and stupidity.

Every time I turned a corner, someone turned away too late.

Every time I touched my keyboard, someone across the room stopped typing just to watch.

If I coughed too loud, they probably thought it was part of my seduction strategy.

I tried to focus, I really did.

But how do you work when your name’s a punchline?

How do you breathe when every breath feels stolen?

How do you stand tall when it feels like the floor underneath you is built from glass and everyone’s waiting to hear it crack?

By the end of the day, I was holding myself together with paperclips and prayer.

I waited until it was time to go.

By five o’clock, my legs were heavy and my head was full of noise. I stepped out of the building, finally free—

God knows, I just wanted to head home and have a cool shower. All my years doing side jobs, I never knew that cooperate workers gossiped more than many of us working on the fringes. They seemed to have more time on their hands and many brains on their mouth than they actually had in their head and it’s so frustrating.

“How were they even hired?” I murmured as I stepped out of the building and walked into a trap where I was hit by another storm.

As soon as I stepped out of the building, the air shifted. The evening sun was just beginning to dip, casting long shadows across the pavement.

And in the middle of those shadows stood a figure.

Clarissa Lin.

Evan’s wife.

Her expression wasn’t sorrowful or shocking like it had been the last time I saw her.

No. Today she looked unhinged.

She was dressed to kill—literally, if the dagger glare in her eyes meant anything, I’d probably be dead a couple of times.

Her heels were too sharp. Lips too red. Hair too perfect. And rage—pure uncontrollable rage—burned in every inch of her face.

“You!” she shrieked before I could take another step. “You murderer!”

Heads turned instantly.

Phones came out like they were filming a reality show.

“Clarissa,” I said, keeping my voice low. “You need to leave.”

She marched up to me, eyes wide with fury. “You think I’ll just go quietly? After what you did? You lured my husband into a hotel and now he’s dead!”

I stiffened. “I didn’t lure anyone and I didn’t kill him.” My voice was firm and a hint of annoyance surfaced.

She pointed at me like I was a snake slithering across the sidewalk. “Liar! You whored your way into his life, ruined our marriage, and now he’s gone!”

My blood boiled. “Your husband was a predator. You know it and I tried to warn you!”

“You tried to trap him!” she shrieked. “I’ve seen women like you! Clinging to men with power, spreading your legs and calling it ambition!”

My hands curled into fists at my sides. “Careful,” I said through clenched teeth. “You’re crossing a line.”

Clarissa took a dramatic step forward. “Oh, I crossed that line the second I got that message from him—the one you probably sent! You lured me there, made me walk in on my husband dying! No! He was already Dead.”

I gritted my teeth. “You weren’t lured and you were warned. Besides, I told you and asked if you were interested in coming. You said yes, which made me go there. Your husband was a bastard and you’re still too blind to see it.”

“My husband isn’t any fucking bastard, you murdering bitching whore!” She screamed.

“I saw you with your hands near the body!” she shouted, spinning toward the watching crowd. “She was there! Standing over him! I saw it with my own eyes!”

Gasps rippled through the onlookers.

A few people stepped back.

Someone whispered my name like it belonged to a horror story.

I glanced at the security guard standing nearby. “She’s disturbing the premises,” I said firmly. “Please escort her away.”

Clarissa’s eyes bulged. She stared at me like I’d slapped her across the face.

Then she dropped her purse to the ground and—without a single shred of shame—sat down.

Right there.

On the concrete.

“Look at her!” she screamed, flailing her arms. “She’s trying to throw me out! Me! Like I’m trash! Like I’m not the wife of the man she destroyed!”

I took a step back, stunned. ‘This lady was spiraling into madness.’

The security guard hesitated, clearly unsure of how to handle a woman shouting at full volume and now planting herself like a weeping statue in front of the gate.

“Ma’am,” he started gently, “I need you to—”

“Don’t you dare touch me!” Clarissa snapped, scrambling to her feet and brushing imaginary dust from her designer skirt. “Do you know who I am?!”

The guard looked confused. “I—I’m just doing my job—”

She turned to the growing crowd, voice shrill, full of venom. “See?! She’s trying to shoo me away! She’s trying to erase me just like she erased Evan!”

I opened my mouth to speak, but she spun toward me, shaking with fury.

“My husband is the vice president’s cousin,” she hissed. “I have every right to be here—and no security guard paid with money from our family’s pocket is going to chase me away.”