Chapter 3

Cassandra advanced on me with a vicious expression. She went behind me and forced my knees downward, trying to get me on the ground.

Caught off guard, I fell hard onto the floor, and pain shot through my body.

"Stop pretending! Ms. Saccone is pregnant. You're lucky she's fine after you bumped into her! What if something happened to the baby? Can you take responsibility for that?"

I refused to kneel, struggling to remain upright, and I was forced to get on all fours as Yvette peered down at me from above.

She feigned concern, moving as if to help me up, only to withdraw her hand halfway. "I can forgive you, but I deserve an apology."

The people around us praised her kindness while holding me down to prevent me from getting up.

As I felt their grips tighten around me, a bitter ache spread through my chest.

These were the colleagues I had treated with sincerity, people I had once considered family. Now, they had become weapons aimed at tearing me down.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mitchell joining in as well. He avoided my gaze. Guilt flickered in his eyes, yet his hands never stopped pressing me down.

Three years ago, when his home caught fire, and he was trapped inside, it was I who risked my life to save him.

Fighting back tears, I addressed everyone present. "I will not apologize, and I refuse to apologize! There are surveillance cameras everywhere. If you continue to assault me, I'll call the police and file charges because this is coercion!"

From that day onward, my position in the company became increasingly precarious.

The pantry became the birthplace of countless rumors about me. Every time I passed by, I heard whispers as irritating as the sound of nails on a chalkboard.

Each indistinct word seeped into my nightmares, waking me in the middle of the night.

There weren't many microwaves in the office, and people often had to wait in line to heat their meals. Yet whenever it was my turn, my lunch mysteriously disappeared.

They didn't dare poison my food, but they would throw away my lunches. Even when I caught them in the act, they stubbornly denied it.

"Oh, sorry. I thought it was my lunch."

"It's just a couple of meals. It's not like you'll starve."

It wasn't just my lunch. My clients were poached as well. Deals negotiated one day would be snatched away the next through underhanded tactics.

My performance began to decline, and Mitchell publicly reprimanded me during a morning meeting. "If you can't do the job, then get out. This company has no room for slackers!"

On New Year's Eve, I was working late and got locked inside the office.

I leaned weakly against the glass wall, staring at the pitch-black corridor as nausea churned violently in my stomach.

It was supposed to be a night of reunion, with my family waiting for me at home, yet I didn't have the strength to return.

Even though my phone had power, the office had internet, and all it would've taken was a single call for me to leave, I had already been worn down to the point of exhaustion.

…

After the New Year, I submitted my resignation to Mitchell.

Within hours, he discovered the truth about what had happened on New Year's Eve. He appeared before me with Cassandra, who wore an expression of guilt.

She reluctantly apologized and was docked six months of her bonus as compensation for what she had done to me.

"Annabeth, you're one of the company's key employees. If you encounter any difficulties in the future, come to me. Don't bring up resignation again," Mitchell said.

I said nothing and didn't withdraw my resignation letter either.

However, the matter was far from over. I had been marked as a target.

After countless attempts to evade my pursuer, I chose to confront the danger head-on. I gripped a stone I had picked up by the roadside, waiting for whoever was following me to reveal themselves.

Cassandra appeared, no longer dressed in her usual neat business attire but in casual streetwear. She screamed at me hysterically, "This is all your fault! It was just a joke! What right did you have to take my bonus?

"That money was meant to save my father's life! He's in the early stages of cancer and could still be treated. Now, he's going to die because of you!"

Her eyes were bloodshot as she advanced toward me, gripping a baseball bat. Without hesitation, she swung it straight at my head.

I turned and ran, desperate to reach the main road for help, but she chased after me relentlessly.

Suddenly, my steps faltered. My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the ground. Cassandra screamed for me to die.

I closed my eyes helplessly, bracing for the pain. However, instead, a pair of strong, fair hands suddenly appeared, pulling me tightly into an embrace.