Chapter Four

Schemes and Setbacks

Valenticia's POV:

“Please, let me search for it.” I pleaded, with folded hands.

“How dare you lose the ‘Urban Development Blueprint’? Do you have any idea how crucial it is?” She repeated, loud enough for everyone to gather.

My lips trembled. “I didn’t lose it. I placed the file in the designated drawer yesterday. I... I’m sure of it.”

“Then where is it?” She leaned forward, her manicured nails tapping the table rhythmically as if counting down to my downfall.

Silence filled the room. I could feel the judgment and doubt in every gaze, as my heartbeat thundered in my ears.

“Please, let me search for it. I know—”

“No!” Her voice was final. “You’ve wasted enough of our time. There’s no need for a search. The fact is that the document is missing, and you’re the last person who had it.”

“Then… then let’s check the CCTV footage. That’ll prove that I’m not lying.”

She folded her arms, a painted nail tapping against her elbow. “Denied. We’re not going to waste company resources because of your incompetence.”

“Mrs. Monroe.” A new voice cut in. Mr. Hansen, the department head, stepped forward. “Valenticia has made a reasonable request. If there’s nothing to hide, we should review the footage.”

Claudia’s expression faltered. “Mr. Hansen, that’s unnecessary. We already know—”

“And yet, I insist.” He said firmly. “Bring up the footage.”

The IT technician quickly connected to the surveillance system. The room dimmed, and the screen on the wall lit up with the footage. And everyone watched as yesterday’s events played out.

There I was, placing the document neatly in Claudia’s drawer. Relief swelled within me.

“Fast forward.” Mr. Hansen instructed. And the footage was sped up, but my desk remained untouched until—

A woman approached Claudia's desk. It was one of the girls who had asked about my past with Dmitri. She looked around, her eyes darting, before opening the drawer and slipping out the document. 

She clutched it to her chest, then hurried to the storage room. Moments later, she emerged empty-handed.

Mr. Hansen turned to the girl, his expression unreadable. “Care to explain yourself, Miss Harper?”

Her face drained of colour. “I... I was just...”

“Speak up.” He demanded.

Tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m sorry! I didn’t want to do it. I was told to—forced to!”

“By whom?”

Her gaze dropped to the floor, and for a moment, the only sound was the hum of the projector. “By Mrs. Monroe.”

Gasps rippled through the room. 

Claudia’s eyes widened. “You little liar!” Claudia snapped, stepping forward. “You’ll say anything to save your own skin.”

“It’s true!” Miss Harper cried. “You said Valenticia needed to be taught a lesson. You said if I didn’t do it, you’d make sure I never worked here—or anywhere—again.”

Mr. Hansen raised his hand, silencing the noise. His jaw clenched. “Claudia Monroe, effective immediately, you are suspended for five days without pay for false accusations and workplace harassment. Additionally, your salary will be deducted to cover the losses incurred by this disruption.”

Claudia’s face twisted with rage. She opened her mouth to protest, but the steely look in Mr. Hansen’s eyes silenced her. 

Hissing loudly, she turned around and stormed out.

I exhaled, my knees threatening to give way. I never expected that I would actually be vindicated.

<<

Three days later, I was still adjusting to the shift in the office dynamic. Where once there were whispers behind my back, now there were nods of respect. 

But not all changes were welcomed.

“Did you hear?” One of the secretaries, not realizing I was within earshot, spoke in a hushed tone to her friend. “Dmitri Galden got engaged to Natasha Anderson. Their engagement party is next week!”

My chest tightened.

Of course. Why wouldn’t he move on? Why wouldn’t he marry the woman he had always loved? I was nothing but a pawn in his grandfather’s scheme.

My aunt Margaret had saved his late grandfather's life. He placed an option that Dmitri either married the niece of the woman who had saved his life or watched everything he had, including his company, go to charity.

We got married, but along the lines, I fell for him. But he always remained cold and distant because he was always in love with his Ex Natasha

I bit the inside of my cheek, then I forced myself to keep walking.

That evening, I stood on the sidewalk, my arm half-raised to flag down a taxi when a black car rolled to a stop in front of me. The tinted window rolled down, revealing a middle-aged man in a suit.

My head tilted to the side as I tried to pinpoint where I had seen him.

“Oh!” My eyes widened, as I pointed. “You were the one driving the car that hit me the other day, right?”

He nodded, and then he called out. “Ms. Valenticia?”

“How did—?”

“Our madam would like to see you.”

I took a step back. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know your—”

He pulled out his phone and showed me a picture of an elderly woman.

“The woman from the street...?” I whispered.

He nodded. “Please, get in.”

Caution battled with curiosity. And eventually, curiosity won as I slid into the backseat.

The drive took us to a large estate. And then to a grand mansion. The gates were opened and he drove inside.

He stopped in front of the house, and I stepped out; he did as well and led me inside.

When I reached the dining room, the elderly woman was seated at the head of the table. She smiled as if she’d been expecting me her whole life.

“Valenticia, dear.” She extended her hand. “Come, sit.”

The meal before me was a feast. I hesitated, my hands folding on my lap.

“There’s no need to feel shy. You’ve helped me once; now let me repay your kindness.”

Despite my reservations, I ate.

As the meal concluded, she reached into a silk-lined box and pulled out a jade pendant. My breath caught.

“My pendant...” I murmured.

“I found it on the floor that very day you saved me. But before I could hand it to you, you had rushed out.” She began.

“Thank you so much,” I said, with my hands stretched out.

“This is no ordinary trinket.” She began. “This is a Clawford heirloom. The only one of its kind.”

I shook my head. “But... how?”

She placed a photograph before me—a young girl, around six years old, wearing that very pendant. The girl was me.

“This was taken before you went missing.” She continued. “You are my granddaughter. The rightful heiress of the Clawford Group.”

“You mean... I’m...”

“Yes, darling. You are Valenticia Clawford.”