Chapter 2

The intern accused me of shredding the scarf she gave her boyfriend, and I got fired

I was about to fire back when Dean walked out.

"Who drew up the contract?"

Before I could get a word out, Brittany spoke first, eyes rimmed red.

"It's my fault. I shouldn't have asked Crystal to do the contract for me. I wasn't feeling well that day, so..."

The moment she trailed off, a coworker jumped in.

"Crystal's the one who drew up the contract. She's trying to pin it on Brittany."

"She's never liked Brittany. Why would she be kind enough to help her with a contract? This is a setup, plain and simple."

Dean frowned at that.

"Enough, all of you. I know what kind of person Crystal is."

A thread of hope rose in me. I thought he was going to believe me.

But the next second, he looked at me and said,

"Since you're the one who made the mistake, your entire bonus for this year is forfeited. And because the company suffered losses, you'll apologize to everyone and give your word this kind of error will never happen again."

"I know you drew up the contract for Brittany. But the figure, the most important part, you shouldn't have left it for her to fill in at the end."

My head snapped up, and all I saw was a man being strictly, coldly professional.

My phone buzzed.

A message from Dean on the app.

"It's fine. I'll make up your bonus privately. But at the company, you still have to give everyone an explanation."

I curled my fingers tight, chilled to the bone.

Dean knew me. He knew being falsely accused was the thing I hated most.

Five years ago, I quit my job precisely because my boss at the time wanted me to take the fall for him.

Back then Dean had done everything to comfort me, and swore to me, hand on his heart,

"Vivi, no matter when, even if the whole world doubts you, I'll always believe you. With me, you'll never be wronged."

After that he started his own company, saying he was afraid I'd be bullied working somewhere else.

For five years he'd nearly worked himself to death making that company big.

And now he was letting me feel what it was like to be knifed by the person I trusted most.

I spoke, my voice edged with mockery.

"So I helped her, and I helped wrong?"

He met my eyes, but his tone stayed offhand.

"I know you were rushing to the hospital to look after your mother that day. But you still should have gone over any contract you handled one last time."

It felt like falling into ice.

He was threatening me.

My mother's surgery was coming soon. The surgeon was someone Dean had found, a specialist who was almost impossible to get.

When I first learned my mother was ill, I'd been sick with worry.

It was Dean who saw how anxious I was. He pulled every string, spent a fortune, and finally got us an appointment with that specialist, one of the best in the field.

Back then he'd smiled and pulled me, crying, into his arms.

"Vivi, I can't stand to see you upset. You know I'd do anything for you, as long as you and your mother are okay."

I was so grateful to him then. I thought I was the luckiest woman alive to have met him.

And now, for Brittany, he was turning the knife on me.

I curled my fingers tight.

"Fine. I'll apologize."

For my mother, I could do anything.

I took my phone to the stairwell to write the apology.

Tears fell one after another onto the screen, and there was nothing in me but grief and a cold, hollow ache.

By the time I got back to the office, Brittany was crying her heart out.

The moment she saw me, she burst out, indignant.

"Crystal, I know you're unhappy about me and Mr. Gilbert. But you didn't have to shred the scarf I gave him while we were out at lunch."

"I knitted it by hand. Two whole months."

I froze where I stood and answered on instinct.

"I've never been to his office."

Dean was frowning at me too. When he saw my red, swollen eyes, a flicker of guilt crossed his face, and he took a step toward me without thinking.

But the instant he moved, Brittany lifted the shredded scarf in both hands and cried out.

"Mr. Gilbert, if someone in this company can't stand having me around, then I'll just resign."

And with that she ran out, sobbing.

"Brittany."

Dean's step faltered, then he turned and chased after her.

By that afternoon, I got the notice from HR.

I was fired. On Dean's orders.

He said that so Brittany wouldn't come back to the company and feel unhappy seeing me, I was to pack my things and leave at once.

It felt like my heart was being stabbed all over again by ten thousand needles.

This was the company I'd helped him build from nothing into what it was now.

And now, because Brittany didn't want to see me, he was tossing me aside like a piece of luggage.