You Messed with the Wrong Woman

The moment I sent the message, the other person's screen showed: [Typing...]

Knowing how fiercely protective and hot-tempered my brother was, I figured he had already called security and told them to clear the place out.

Instead, a long voice message popped up.

I tapped 'transcribe', and I almost passed out from sheer frustration when I saw what my brother had said.

[What kind of CEO romance novel have you been reading this time? You're the only daughter in our family. Where did you suddenly get a little sister from? Are you trying to use this as another excuse to quit your job?

[Mom already said it. You've never had to suffer since you were little, so you need to toughen up and get some real-life experience. I'm overseas negotiating an acquisition right now, so stop running around tattling to me about every little thing!]

For as long as I could remember, my complaints had never failed me. However, this time, I had somehow managed to crash and burn in front of my own brother.

Before I could even process what had happened, my supervisor, Adrian Yates, snatched my phone right out of my hand.

Lena Rogers glanced at the message, her face twisting with contempt.

"So, you just save some random person in your contacts as 'Brother' and suddenly think you're some rich heiress? Have you even looked at yourself? You look like you can barely afford lunch. Who exactly are you trying to fool?"

Adrian tossed the phone back into my arms. His face was full of spite.

"Can't keep up the act anymore, huh? You're just some nobody with no connections, and you actually had the nerve to joke around about Lena? If I don't teach you a lesson today, you might start thinking you're actually important enough to challenge us!"

He pointed toward the hallway.

"Go move those fifty boxes of old files from the storage room to the archive room on the third floor. The elevator's broken today, so use the stairs. You're not leaving until it's done."

I shot my head up. "Fifty boxes? That's a logistics job. I'm in the Planning Department!"

"You're a useless employee who can't even write a decent proposal. Who knows how you even managed to get into the Planning Department in the first place?"

Adrian gave an icy laugh. Then he turned toward Lena, and his expression instantly transformed into a sycophantic smile.

"You're nothing like our Lena. She walked into this company and immediately came up with such an impressive proposal. As for useless employees like you, moving a few boxes is practically a free workout. You should be thanking me for the opportunity!"

Lena looked me up and down as if I were something she had found stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

"Adrian, don't put it that way. She was probably spoiled growing up. Maybe she's never even had to lift anything heavier than a handbag."

She covered her mouth and giggled, the mockery practically dripping from her voice.

"Still, my brother always says this company isn't a charity for people who have nothing to do. If you can't even handle something as simple as moving boxes, maybe you should just quit while you still can. Don't wait until my brother comes back. By then, he might not even bother letting you leave with your dignity."

Fine.

Once I had collected enough evidence, I would wait until my brother came back and deal with him too!

I turned around and headed for the storage room.

By the time I had dragged all fifty boxes into the archive room, my palms were covered in seven or eight blood-filled blisters. Every movement sent a sharp, stabbing pain through my hands.

I took a deep breath, shook out my aching fingers, and headed back to my desk.

However, I stopped dead.

My entire workstation was a disaster. Someone had poured coffee all over my keyboard, and the computer tower was making a nasty sound as the circuits shorted out.