~ Evelyn’s POV ~
In my world, bullying is a necessary pressure I exert only when faced with those who truly deserve it— politicians who believe the sun orbits their egos, or CEOs who forget that their empires were built on the backs of the common man.
It is a privilege of the elite.
It is not for people like Joy, whose parents are humble farmers in the suburbs.
It is not for Gerard, who could barely afford three square meals when I plucked him from obscurity.
And it certainly was not for Stephanie, whose recent promotion was the only thing keeping her family afloat.
None of them possessed the right to hunt.
Especially not when the prey was Clara—a woman who had done nothing but work with a quiet, desperate intensity in a world that was entirely alien to her.
The silence in the conference room was so suffocating, it sucked the oxygen out of the lungs of everyone present.
I let the tension stretch until I could hear the frantic, uneven breathing of the three seating at the far right side of the table.
“You three, just like everyone else, were given a set of guidelines upon your arrival at Vance Corp,” my voice broke through the stillness.
I didn’t raise it.
I didn’t have to.
I let my gaze sweep across the table, before finally pinning the three of them to their seats.
“A pamphlet detailing the principles and ethics that govern this company. Correct?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the three chorused.
Their voices were a ragged, shaking mess.
Joy looked pale like she’s seen a ghost.
FI could see the sheen of cold sweat on her forehead.
“Can someone remind me what the fourth article of those ethics states?” I asked, my tone conversational, which only seemed to terrify them more.
A staff member at the far end of the table cleared their throat, and stood
“Article four… bullying and harassment of any fellow staff member is strictly prohibited. Anyone found guilty is subject to immediate dismissal.”
I gave a slow nod of satisfaction.The rule was absolute.
I had never been one for mass terminations; these were hardworking individuals, assets I had invested in.
But they had committed the ultimate sin: they had practiced an inhumane cruelty on my time, in my house, against my person.
“Before Francis enters with your final paperwork,” I said, leaning back in my executive chair,
“I want to understand the logic. I want you three to walk me through your thought process the moment before you chose to harass Clara.” I paused, my eyes locking onto Joy.
“And while you’re at it, Joy, tell the room why you decided to sabotage a presentation I personally commissioned.”
The girl broke out in tears before collapsing on her knees, the sound of her joints hitting the floor.
Tears began to stream down her face.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Evelyn… please, I beg you, forgive me! I promise, I’ll never do it again! I was just… I was jealous!”
The other two followed suit, a pathetic display of weeping and pleading that filled the room with the scent of desperation.
I watched them, my expression a mask of indifference.
Their tears moved me no more than rain on a windowpane.
They hadn’t considered Clara’s tears when they spilled hot coffee on her or deleted her hard work.
The heavy doors swung open.
Francis entered, followed by two stone-faced security guards.
He moved with a stoic precision, his footsteps the only sound over the sobbing.
He dropped three white envelopes in front of them.
The security men moved in, hauling the three of them to their feet.
“But we weren’t the only ones!” Stephanie’s voice suddenly rang out, sharp and shrill with the hysteria of someone who had nothing left to lose.
She struggled against the guard’s grip as she was dragged toward the exit. New chapters come out on g.com first.
“They were all in on it! The coffee incident… it was a group effort! They have plans, Miss Evelyn! They’re planning an ‘accident’ for Clara!”
The word ‘accident’ plunged the room into utter silence.
The security guards stopped mid-stride as I held up a hand.
Bullying was a nuisance; sabotage was an insult.
But planning a physical “accident” to maim or kill someone under my protection?The rot was deeper than I thought.
“Bring Stephanie back,” I ordered.
The guards dragged her forward.
She was trembling, her eyes wide with the frantic survival instinct of someone who had just realized they were drowning.
“Explain yourself,” I said, my words clipped,”What do you mean by ‘accident’?”
Without a word, she fumbled with her phone, her fingers slick with sweat.
After a moment, she handed the device to me.
I pressed play on a voice note, and the sounds of a low-level conspiracy filled the entire room.
A group of employees had plotted to tamper with the executive elevators whenever they saw Clara entering alone—a “malfunction” designed to drop several floors or stall.
I turned to look at Clara.
She looked shell shock, with her face pale as snow.
Seeing her like that caused something inside me to snap.
I felt a tightness in my chest — a rage, the kind I hadn’t felt in over a decade.
Something about their casual cruelty reminded me of the ghosts of my own past—of the days where I wanted nothing but feel safe or be saved.
“Get my lawyers,” I said, handing the phone to Francis.
“I want a lawsuit served to every name on that recording. Then, hand them over to the police for attempted grievous bodily harm.”
The meeting ended abruotly after that, the remaining staff scurried out of the room.
I left the building afterwards, needing the cold air of the city to soothe the deep aching in my heart.
A few days later, the news of the incidence somehow made it the news.
Putting the company under the spotlight and not for the best reasons.
The media called it the the “Vance Corp Scandal” and milked it for every drop of adrenaline it was worth.
It even triggered a national debate on toxic work environments, leading to new constitutional amendments.
I ignored hundreds of interview requests from the global news agencies, i had no interest in being a hero for the masses; I had a gala to attend— the 49th annual BnC Award night.
“You will be accompanying me to an event tomorrow night,” I said to Clara during dinner, not looking up from my tablet as my eyes tracked a line of market data.
Clara froze, her fork halfway to her mouth.
She stared at me incredulously, her blue eyes wide.
I could feel her burning gaze on me, so I finally looked up.
She immediately jerked her head down, staring at her plate of rice.
“I… I don’t think I’m qualified to escort you to such an event,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“You have worked for me for over a month, Clara,” I stated , as a matter-of-fact.
“You have performed your duties with excellence. You are beautiful enough to stand at my side. That is all the qualification required.”
“But—”
A silence settled between us, thick and strangely charged.
I took a quick glance at her and paused.
A deep, rose-colored hue was rising from the collar of her shirt, blooming across her neck and staining her cheeks.
She was fiddling with her food, her movements frantic.
“Is the food too spicy?” I asked, closing my tablet and setting it aside.
“No, Miss Evelyn,” she shook her head, still refusing to look at me.
“Then why are you so red?”
The question forced her to look up.
My breath caught in my throat.
It wasn’t just her cheeks; her entire face was flushed a breathtaking shade of red that made her blue eyes look like glowing sapphires.
The contrast was devastatingly gorgeous.
My gaze, betrayed by my own willpower and drifted down.
I found myself tracing the curve of her lips.
They were full, flushed from the heat of her blush, and for a terrifying moment, I couldn’t look away.
Suddenly, everything slowed.
The ticking of the clock, the distant sounds of rushing water coming from the fountain— it all faded into a dull hum.
I watched, mesmerized, as Clara’s tongue darted out to lick her top lip, then the bottom.
A sudden, uncharacteristic heat bloomed in the pit of my stomach.
It was thick, suffocating, and entirely unwelcomed.
I realized I was staring— hungry and intense, like a predator hunting its prey.
I forced my eyes away, snapping my head toward a piece of abstract art on the wall behind her.
My brain scrambled to regain its balance.
How strange I thought, my pulse roaring in my ears.
Without a word, I stood up abruptly, my chair scraping harshly against the floor and I walked away.
I didn’t say goodnight and didn’t look back, just fled from a feeling I didn’t have a name for.
“Miss Evelyn.”
Her voice caught me at the threshold of the dining hall.
I stopped mid-stride, my back to her, my heart still performing that strange, erratic rhythm against my ribs.
“What is it?” I turned slowly.
Though kept my face neutral not to give anything away.
“You left your phone,” she said.
She had picked it up from the table and was walking toward me.
Each step she took felt like an encroachment on my carefully guarded territory.
It was as if the ice that made up my heart was finally meeting the sun, the ice cracking and groaning as it began to thaw.
I took the phone from her hand, our fingers brushing for a micro-second, before i turned away.
I walked out more briskly than I had intended, fleeing the warmth she radiated.
His everyone.
Thank you to each and everyone of you that have viewed and collected my book.
I promise you, you’re in for an incredible story.
Have a great day 🙂