The table erupted into muffled laughter. To everyone else, they were merely words. To Isobel, each one landed like a blade.
Her steps faltered. The color slowly drained from her face.
For years, she had endured whispers. The sideways glances. The pity. The judgmental stares.
People who believed they knew her entire life story after hearing only a single detail about her.
She was an orphan, a woman with no family name to protect her. No powerful relatives to stand up for her.
No one.
She had spent her entire life fighting twice as hard as everyone else just to stand in the same place, studying while working part-time jobs. Skipping meals to save money. Pushing herself until exhaustion became normal.
She had believed that if she worked hard enough, if she earned her place through sheer determination, people would eventually look beyond her circumstances.
Yet now...
Standing in the middle of the executive cafeteria of one of the most prestigious companies in the country... she realized nothing had changed.
The labels came first. The judgment came first. And the truth never mattered.
A bitter ache spread through her chest.
How did they know?
Very few people knew she just gave birth.
Then a face surfaced in her mind.
Katherine.
A second face quickly followed.
Claire.
A chill ran down her spine. Only those two had both the motive and the opportunity.
It was only her first day.
Her first day.
And yet her private life had already become entertainment for hundreds of strangers.
"Isobel."
Stacey’s gentle voice broke through the storm raging inside her mind.
Just one word. One simple word.
Yet it shattered the fragile wall Isobel had spent years building around herself.
Her vision blurred. Her eyes burned.
Suddenly, the strength drained from her body. Her knees nearly buckled beneath her.
She had faced poverty. Faced hunger. Faced loneliness.
But somehow...
Being mocked for the existence of a baby hurt more than all of those things combined.
"You don’t look well," Stacey said softly, her expression filled with concern. "Come on. Let’s leave."
Without waiting for an answer, Stacey reached for her hand.
It was ice cold.
The moment their fingers touched, Isobel realized just how badly she was shaking.
A wave of gratitude washed over her.
If Stacey hadn’t steadied her, she might have collapsed right there in front of everyone.
Unfortunately, the whispers did not stop.
If anything, they became crueler.
"My God, look at her face."
"She’s practically admitting it."
"Maybe she really doesn’t know who the father is."
"It was probably a one-night stand."
More laughter followed.
The sound echoed through the cafeteria like a cruel chorus.
Isobel lowered her head.
She had prepared herself for judgment.
The day she signed the surrogacy agreement, she had already known what the world would think of her.
She knew people would question her choices. Question her morality, her character... her worth.
Back then, she hadn’t cared. None of it mattered.
Not when the orphanage was on the verge of closing.
Not when the children she grew up with were facing the possibility of losing the only home they had ever known.
Not when the elderly caretakers who had raised her like their own daughter were desperately trying to keep a roof over everyone’s heads.
Compared to that... her reputation seemed like a small price to pay.
Let them gossip. Let them judge. Let them look down on her.
As long as the orphanage survived, she could endure anything.
Or so she had thought.
But knowing something would happen and actually living through it were two entirely different things. The reality was far crueler.
Every whisper felt like a knife twisting into an old wound. Every laugh stripped away another layer of the armor she had spent years building around herself.
The humiliation was suffocating.
And what hurt the most was not the insults. It was the realization that these people knew nothing about her.
They did not know that she had sacrificed her future for children who weren’t even related to her.
They did not know how many nights she had cried after signing that contract.
They did not know how terrified she had been.
How lonely.
How broken.
Yet they condemned her so easily.
As though her entire existence could be reduced to a rumor.
To them, she was nothing more than a careless woman who had gotten pregnant and paid the price.
And somehow...that hurt more than she expected.
And for the first time, Isobel wondered whether all those sacrifices had truly been worth it.
Whether saving everyone else had cost her something she could never get back.
A strange laugh almost escaped her throat.
Back in high school... back in college...
She had believed adults would be different. They would be more mature...more understanding.
Now she knew better.
The students she once studied with had sharpened their cruelty into whispers.
The corporate world had simply dressed that same cruelty in designer suits.
Suddenly, Morgan’s invitation from earlier resurfaced in her mind.
Join me for lunch.
At the time, she had politely declined.
She hadn’t wanted special treatment.
Now she regretted it.
Perhaps sitting in his private dining room would have been preferable to becoming the day’s entertainment.
The whispers continued.
Growing louder.
Crueler.
And for the first time since arriving at Foster Group, Isobel felt the urge to run.
She tightened her grip on Stacey’s arm.
Maybe she should leave. Maybe she should simply skip lunch.
Just as she was about to turn around—
The noise vanished.
Instantly.
As though someone had pressed a mute button.
The laughter disappeared and the whispers died.
An oppressive silence descended upon the cafeteria.
Even the sound of utensils stopped.
Isobel blinked. She was confused.
What just happened?
Slowly, she turned around. Then her breath caught in her throat.
A tall figure stood behind her. His tailored black suit radiated authority. His handsome features were cold and unreadable.
And his mere presence was enough to silence an entire cafeteria.
Morgan Foster.
The CEO himself.
Standing only a few feet away.
The dining hall became so quiet that a pin could have been heard dropping.
Morgan’s gaze swept across the cafeteria.
He was calm and indifferent. And that was somehow terrifying.
No one dared meet his eyes. No one dared speak.
"I didn’t know that the employees of Aioryx that I prided myself with were gossipmongers and would welcome a new hire like the shrews in the marketplace."
Everyone looked down, shame apparent in their faces.
Then, without sparing the gossiping employees a second glance, he looked directly at Isobel.
"Miss Lancey, you dine with me. Consider it an apology for what happened just now."
His deep voice shattered the silence.
The entire cafeteria froze.
And every pair of eyes landed on Isobel once more.