3. A Good Friend

The board of directors' meeting that afternoon went off without a hitch. The presentation I had put together was highly schematic, featuring clear and easy-to-understand strategic steps. Every brilliant idea was perfectly captured in the proposal I had worked myself to death on.

However, of course, no one in that room knew that I was the mastermind behind it all.

Vanesha stood there with pride, reaping all the praise and admiration from the company’s top executives as if they were her own thoughts. Meanwhile, I could only sit quietly in my cubicle, forced to work late into the night. My own work had been neglected all day because I had to clean up the mess that woman had made.

"You're not allowed to go home until all your tasks are finished!" Vanesha snapped the moment she stepped out of the conference room.

One by one, the office staff headed home. No one greeted me, not even with a simple word of encouragement. It was as if they were only focused on their own business, leaving me alone in the increasingly silent workspace.

The night grew deeper. While everyone else had been resting since seven, I was only finally able to breathe a sigh of relief at nine. My stomach had growled countless times since the afternoon. If there were worms inside, they would have likely died of starvation from the lack of nutrients I provided.

Unable to bear the hunger any longer, I decided to go to a 24-hour convenience store. There, I could order warm instant noodles and eat them on the spot. However, to get there from my office, I had to take a detour through a rather secluded route.

I walked through a deserted park area, and that was when I began to regret my decision. Three drunken men appeared from the opposite direction, their steps staggering but their gazes wild.

"Hey, pretty lady! All alone? How about having a drink with us?" one of them suggested in a sickeningly raspy voice.

I tried to avoid them and quickened my pace, but his two friends moved fast to surround me. One grabbed my arm roughly, while the other snatched my bag.

"Don't be afraid! We’re lovers, not fighters. Come here, give me a kiss!" the drunkard said, pouting his lips as he tried to harass me.

“Don’t you dare! Let me go! Help!” I screamed.

I began to struggle, trying to pull my hand away with all my might, but the man's strength was far beyond my expectations. His grip felt like iron shackles. As those disgusting lips drew closer, I squeezed my eyes shut, thinking my life would be ruined tonight.

Suddenly, a loud thud echoed. Bugh!

The grip on my arm released instantly. I opened my eyes and saw one of the thugs sprawled on the asphalt with a bloody nose. In front of me, a man stood tall, his breathing calm yet deadly.

“How dare you start trouble!” a deep, familiar voice barked.

It was Dominic.

The other two thugs growled and lunged at him simultaneously. However, Dominic moved with unbelievable speed. He dodged with absolute composure, caught one thug's punch, and twisted his arm until the sound of cracking bones rang out. With one precise spinning kick, the last thug collapsed, crashing onto his friend.

In just a matter of seconds, the three large men scrambled to their feet and fled, moaning in pain.

Dominic turned to me; his threatening aura evaporated instantly, replaced by the tired gaze I usually saw at the office. “Are you alright?” he asked softly.

I stood frozen, still trying to process what had just happened. The Dominic I knew at the office was a quiet man who could only hang his head when snapped at by seniors. I had assumed he stayed silent because he was weak and desperately needed the job, leaving him no choice but to be patient. But it turned out... he was this strong?

“Thank you, Dominic,” I said breathlessly.

“Why are you still in your work clothes?”

“I just finished. I had to work overtime,” I answered.

"They are truly taking advantage of you," he said, his eyes filled with deep empathy.

"Yeah, that’s just how it is. I don’t have much of a choice," I replied softly, immediately followed by a loud, rumbling growl from my stomach.

Dominic spontaneously stifled a laugh. "Wow, it seems your stomach is far more vocal about protesting than you are."

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but I eventually let out a small chuckle. "Damn, you're right."

That night, we ended up sitting together on a wooden bench in front of the convenience store. Under the dim glow of the streetlights, we enjoyed hot instant noodles, the steam rising into the cold night air. We chatted casually, sharing small grievances and light laughter, trying to find a momentary peace before having to be slapped by the bitter reality of the office again tomorrow.