Chapter 2 · Congratulations! Your Rules Are Now Public

"Enough!" George said, rubbing his temples.

He glanced at Lucy, who looked like she was about to lose it, then shot me a look.

In the end, he went for the simplest way out.

"Molly, just drop it. Go apologize to Lucy, and let's call it a day," he said, his tone making it clear there was no room for argument.

I stared at him, and suddenly the whole office felt stifling, as I could barely breathe.

Just sweep it under the rug, patch things up: that was George's philosophy for dealing with everything.

But I refused to put up with this absurdity.

"I didn't do anything wrong, so why should I apologize?" I said, my voice soft but firm.

The air in the room seemed to freeze.

George's eyes flashed with irritation. He snapped, "Molly, don't push your luck. Watch your attitude. Remember, your quarterly review is still in my hands."

That was a blatant threat.

I curled my lips into a sarcastic smirk.

Seeing that, Lucy instantly put on a different act.

She dabbed at imaginary tears and played the part of the bigger person. She said, "It's fine, Mr. Walker. Don't blame Molly. As long as she does what I say from now on, I'm willing to let it slide."

I scoffed.

Let it slide?

Who did she think she was?

Without another word, I turned and walked away.

From behind, I could hear George slamming his mug down on the desk, probably pissed as hell.

I didn't look back.

Back at my desk, the pothos was still quietly sitting in the corner, its leaves a vibrant green.

But inside, it felt like my heart had been torched: a burned-out wasteland.

I sat down, fired up my computer, and got ready to finish that urgent report.

The vibe in the office was off all afternoon.

People barely spoke, and when they did, it was just hushed whispers.

Lucy kept her distance, but she still threw me a few nasty looks whenever she thought I wasn't paying attention.

As the workday was winding down, I got up and headed to the break room.

When I came back with my cup, I stopped dead in my tracks.

The spot in the corner of my desk was empty—the pothos was gone.

There, in the trash can next to my desk, a flash of green that didn't belong there stabbed at my eyes.

It was my pothos plant, the one I'd cared for so carefully.

Fresh soil was mixed with stale coffee grounds, and a few of the tender leaves were squashed and bent out of shape.

My breath caught for a moment.

The cleaning lady happened to be passing by with her cart. When she saw me standing by the trash can, she hesitated for a moment, then came over and whispered, "Molly, it was Lucy who told me to throw it out.

"She said it was an eyesore."

She shot me a sympathetic glance, then hurried off with her cart.

I just stood there, frozen.

My blood ran cold, then started to boil.

Just then, Lucy sashayed past me, humming a tune.

She shot a look at the trash can, then at me, a smug grin spreading across her face.

It was the kind of look that screamed, "I won, and you lost."

I took a deep breath and eased myself back into my chair.

Resting my fingers on the cold keyboard, I felt strangely calm inside.

I pulled up the company's shared server and navigated to the main folder our project team shared.

Inside were all the essential data and critical files for the project. Every bit of it was organized and maintained by me from scratch.

I checked the user permissions and found Lucy's name in the access list.

Then, calmly, I removed her access.

After that, I picked up my cup and took a gentle sip.

Barely five minutes had passed.

Behind me, the sharp clack of high heels suddenly broke the silence.

Lucy's voice rang out, pissed as hell, echoing through the office. She demanded, "Molly, what's your problem? Why can't I get into the shared folder?"

I slowly turned my chair to face her, watching her face contort with anger.

Pretending to be surprised, I said, "My keyboard gives off way too much radiation. Wouldn't want it to affect the baby you're carrying, so I figured I'd set up a little barrier between us.

"Makes sense, doesn't it?"

Chapter 2

"Enough!" George said, rubbing his temples.

He glanced at Lucy, who looked like she was about to lose it, then shot me a look.

In the end, he went for the simplest way out.

"Molly, just drop it. Go apologize to Lucy, and let's call it a day," he said, his tone making it clear there was no room for argument.

I stared at him, and suddenly the whole office felt stifling, as I could barely breathe.

Just sweep it under the rug, patch things up: that was George's philosophy for dealing with everything.

But I refused to put up with this absurdity.

"I didn't do anything wrong, so why should I apologize?" I said, my voice soft but firm.

The air in the room seemed to freeze.

George's eyes flashed with irritation. He snapped, "Molly, don't push your luck. Watch your attitude. Remember, your quarterly review is still in my hands."

That was a blatant threat.

I curled my lips into a sarcastic smirk.

Seeing that, Lucy instantly put on a different act.

She dabbed at imaginary tears and played the part of the bigger person. She said, "It's fine, Mr. Walker. Don't blame Molly. As long as she does what I say from now on, I'm willing to let it slide."

I scoffed.

Let it slide?

Who did she think she was?

Without another word, I turned and walked away.

From behind, I could hear George slamming his mug down on the desk, probably pissed as hell.

I didn't look back.

Back at my desk, the pothos was still quietly sitting in the corner, its leaves a vibrant green.

But inside, it felt like my heart had been torched: a burned-out wasteland.

I sat down, fired up my computer, and got ready to finish that urgent report.

The vibe in the office was off all afternoon.

People barely spoke, and when they did, it was just hushed whispers.

Lucy kept her distance, but she still threw me a few nasty looks whenever she thought I wasn't paying attention.

As the workday was winding down, I got up and headed to the break room.

When I came back with my cup, I stopped dead in my tracks.

The spot in the corner of my desk was empty—the pothos was gone.

There, in the trash can next to my desk, a flash of green that didn't belong there stabbed at my eyes.

It was my pothos plant, the one I'd cared for so carefully.

Fresh soil was mixed with stale coffee grounds, and a few of the tender leaves were squashed and bent out of shape.

My breath caught for a moment.

"She said it was an eyesore."

She shot me a sympathetic glance, then hurried off with her cart.

I just stood there, frozen.

My blood ran cold, then started to boil.

Just then, Lucy sashayed past me, humming a tune.

She shot a look at the trash can, then at me, a smug grin spreading across her face.

It was the kind of look that screamed, "I won, and you lost."

I took a deep breath and eased myself back into my chair.

Resting my fingers on the cold keyboard, I felt strangely calm inside.

I pulled up the company's shared server and navigated to the main folder our project team shared.

Inside were all the essential data and critical files for the project. Every bit of it was organized and maintained by me from scratch.

I checked the user permissions and found Lucy's name in the access list.

Then, calmly, I removed her access.

After that, I picked up my cup and took a gentle sip.

Barely five minutes had passed.

Behind me, the sharp clack of high heels suddenly broke the silence.

Lucy's voice rang out, pissed as hell, echoing through the office. She demanded, "Molly, what's your problem? Why can't I get into the shared folder?"

I slowly turned my chair to face her, watching her face contort with anger.

Pretending to be surprised, I said, "My keyboard gives off way too much radiation. Wouldn't want it to affect the baby you're carrying, so I figured I'd set up a little barrier between us.

"Makes sense, doesn't it?"