Every cubicle was guarded by Christopher’s men in disguise. Their sharp eyes were constantly scanning for threats.
Minutes later, Christopher arrived. He stepped out of the black luxury car with his secretary, Scarlett. Her soft laughter echoed through the lobby. It grabbed the attention of every pair of eyes.
Scarlett. The thorn in my side.
The whispers grew louder as Christopher walked with her into the building. Everyone there knew we were a couple, but Scarlett’s presence had begun to blur the lines.
Christopher was involved with her in ways he never was with me. He used to give her rides, share meals, and even grant her access to his restricted areas.
Ignoring them, I made my way to the public area, where the communal printer was located.
I was just copying documents and pretended not to notice the glances my colleagues threw my way. They wanted a show, a spectacle—a sign that I was cracking under the weight of Scarlet's growing influence.
But I refused to give them the satisfaction.
The whispers grew bolder as I walked past two of the subordinates.
“Ms. Levy is too cold,” one of them muttered, loud enough for me to hear. “Men like women who are delicate, like Scarlett.”