Chapter 2

After pulling myself together, I left the break room.

The office cleanup seemed to be over. Sandy was surrounded by several colleagues, holding a cup of coffee someone had brought her while listening to their flattery with a pleasant smile.

"Sandy, you're so approachable. You don't put on airs at all."

"Exactly! Unlike certain people who put on a show but can't even figure out how to use a mop."

Sandy pressed her lips together in a smile.

"Come on, don't say that. Everyone's different."

When she spotted me, her smile widened slightly, a clear hint of superiority in her eyes.

I couldn't be bothered to entertain her and went straight back to my desk.

I spent the entire afternoon buried in work, and before I knew it, it was time to leave. I shut down my computer right on schedule and had barely stood up when Sandy called out to me.

"Winona, leaving already? The rest of us haven't even finished work yet."

She gestured toward several colleagues who were clearly slacking off but putting on a convincing show of being busy.

I picked up my bag.

"I've finished my work. Is there a problem?"

"Not really," she replied, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "I'm just curious. Why are you leaving so early? Do you have something urgent to take care of?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "I have dinner with my grandma at the family estate a few times every month. She's old-fashioned, and some traditions just can't be broken."

The office fell silent for a moment before several barely suppressed snickers broke out.

"The family estate? Grandma? Wow, that's quite the aristocratic lifestyle you've got there."

"You mean some rundown old house in the countryside? Do you have to catch the last bus home, too?"

"Sandy is the real heiress here, and even she doesn't leave early. She leads by example and works overtime. Some people sure know how to put on a performance."

A flash of smugness crossed Sandy's face before she replaced it with an expression of feigned exasperation.

"Ms. Grant, your first priority should be deleting that trashy romance-reading app."

I felt my temper flare, but then I remembered my frozen credit card and forced myself to swallow my retort.

They could think whatever they wanted. I couldn't care less.

I turned and headed for the elevator, taking it straight down to the underground parking lot.

My car was parked in its designated spot. It was an adorable little electric microcar that looked almost toy-sized.

I'd just opened the driver's door when I heard footsteps approaching, accompanied by laughter and chatter.

Sandy had come down with several colleagues, and they spotted me and my car almost immediately.

One of the male colleagues couldn't hold back a laugh.

"Winona, is this your ride? That's… certainly a unique choice."

Sandy looked my car up and down, a mocking smile tugging at her lips.

"Winona, didn't you say your family was so... big on tradition? Then why do you drive something like this?" she asked, putting particular emphasis on the last three words.

Her insinuation was perfectly clear.

She could insult me all she wanted, but she was not going to insult my beloved car.

Anger boiled in me, and I decided that enough was enough.

I shut the car door, leaned against it, and pulled out my phone. After opening a car enthusiast website, I turned to Sandy and began my lecture.

"This is a limited-edition electric concept car. Only 99 of them exist worldwide, and it's never been made available for public sale.

"To qualify for one, you have to already own at least one of the brand's globally limited-edition supercars. Only then are you eligible to receive this matching city commuter car as a complimentary gift."

I turned my phone screen toward them, showing the car's specifications and the conditions for obtaining one.

"Sandy…" I watched her smile stiffen ever so slightly before asking in an unhurried voice, "Aren't you the Melville heiress? Everyone in those circles knows about this sort of thing. How could you not?"

My colleagues' laughter died instantly. They glanced between Sandy and me, their expressions shifting to suspicion.

Sandy's expression changed, but she quickly forced herself to regain her composure.

"I-I'm just a girl!" she sputtered. "How am I supposed to spend all day keeping track of cars and houses? My family has so many cars that I can't even recognize all the keys. Who cares about little details like this?"

She waved a hand dismissively.

"Come on, let's go! Didn't we agree to try that new restaurant?"

She practically dragged the still-bewildered colleagues out of the parking lot, her retreat looking decidedly less graceful than her entrance.