Chapter 2

In that instant, the atmosphere in the office completely changed. I could hear hushed conversations in the hallway, and no matter where I went, the employees would steal a glance at me and then look away with smug satisfaction.

It was 10:00 am, and Bianca's desk had become the focal point of the entire floor. There was a group of employees congregating around her, vying with one another to curry favor and flatter her.

"We've all got you back, Bianca."

"She's blowing tons of cash on drivers and bulletproof vehicles, while we don't get a single cent of the benefits!"

"You should keep pressuring her! What's she going to do anyway? She couldn't possibly fire every one of us."

I walked past them in silence, clearly hearing every single thing they were saying. It turned out that this was how they viewed me—a wealthy fool they could exploit at will.

That afternoon, Chiara slipped quietly into my office. She looked completely out of her depth while holding a plate of donuts. "I hope you're not upset, Serena. Bianca is just letting all the online attention get to her head."

She set the donuts down on my desk and flashed me a sycophantic smile. "It's not that people actually hate the shuttle service—they just think that if it were converted into a cash allowance, it might be a bit more... practical."

I stared at the woman who had once wept with gratitude when I assigned private security to escort her home. "Is that so? Do you want me to scratch the shuttle service as well?"

Chiara's gaze wavered for a moment before she raised her chin and looked straight at me with what she likely believed was sincere concern.

"I'm on your side, Serena. I still remember everything you've done for me. I'm really just worried about you. I mean, the online comments have turned very harsh, and it's hurting the company's reputation.

"Isn't it better for you to take a step back at this moment? You can give everyone a small cash payout to ease the tension first…"

Chiara wasn't here to do me any favors. She was just a mouthpiece for the others, testing my boundaries. She was using my past kindness against me, trying to force me into total surrender.

Giulia burst into the office before I could reply. She looked deathly pale, her voice taut with anxiety while saying, "Something has gone wrong, Serena.

"Bianca's post was just picked up by major influencers. They're all verified accounts with millions of followers. Sorrento Group has skyrocketed straight to the top of the trending topics on every mainstream platform."

I refreshed the feed, and sure enough, it was trending.

#Sorento Group's Female CEO Uses Shuttle Service to Surveil Employees at Night

Under the hashtag, countless new anonymous comments had surfaced, most with IPs traced to this very building.

"I'm an employee here, and let me tell you—those safety shuttle drivers are absolutely disgusting. I mean, last week, a driver went so far as to constantly ogle me through the rearview mirror."

"That GPS tracking feature is pure surveillance, plain and simple. She knows exactly what time we get home. She's probably glued to the screen watching us every night for all we know."

"I mean, forget about the overtime. I don't even have the nerve to request sick leave anymore because I feel guilty for using the company's free shuttle."

I stared intently at the screen as a ringing sound filled my ears. Those drivers had been thoroughly screened by Papa's Soldatos, each one with a spotless record and over ten years of driving experience.

That GPS tracking only monitored the vehicles themselves, not the individual passengers. I had never looked at a single specific driving route.

In addition, those sick leaves offered by the company had always been unlimited and fully compensated.

I slowly recalled the faces behind those comments. These were the women who had just recently shown me overwhelming gratitude, who had embraced me in the parking lot and said I was the first employer to make them feel safe.

Yet now, for a bit of petty gain, they were fueling the chaos and kicking me while I was down.

Chiara kept babbling, continuing her poor performance. "Do you see how out of hand this has gotten, Serena? Please just take my advice—"

I cut her off, saying, "Get out—I don't have a sweet tooth."

Chiara, looking thoroughly embarrassed, picked up her plate of donuts and left the office.

In that instant, a dead silence returned to the office, though my phone wouldn't stop buzzing. They were all calls from business partners, investors, and reporters, all trying to reach me. In the meantime, every social media account registered under my name was overwhelmed by a vast influx of

"You should go to hell, you blood-sucking parasite! Your company deserves to be shut down!"

"You're still portraying yourself as a savior, huh? You're absolutely disgusting!"

"It is precisely because of women like you that women suffer in the professional environment."