Chapter 1
I went to visit my boyfriend's lab, but as soon as I walked in, I was stopped by Claire Evans, who called herself the anti-simp queen.
She snorted and checked out my clothes from head to toe.
"Are you here to flaunt yourself or hunt for guys? This is a research lab, not a nightclub!" Claire sneered.
My boyfriend, Andrew Grant, helplessly pushed her aside and whispered an apology to me.
"She just got cheated on, so she's in a bad mood. She can't stand girls who like to dress up. Don't take it personally," Andrew said.
I held back my retort and went to the restroom, but when I came out, I heard Claire going off again.
"Short skirt, jewelry, and that soft voice. Classic terminal boy-crazy syndrome!" Claire sneered.
"She treats finding a man like her life's KPI, and her whole world is just about scoring more guys," she continued.
"Andrew, you really need to watch out. Girls like her, always scheming and juggling guys. I've seen plenty in our circle," Claire said.
Hearing all that nasty, biased talk, I couldn't help but laugh in disbelief.
Without missing a beat, I called my dad. "Hold off on that 100-million-dollar investment for now. I need to clean up the lab first."
*****
When I walked out with a stormy look on my face, everyone's expressions shifted.
Andrew frowned and hurried over to me. "Sophia, how could you eavesdrop on other people's conversations?"
Instead of calling out Claire for her nasty comments, he jumped straight to blaming me for being rude.
Claire leaned against the lab bench, sneering.
"It's not eavesdropping, Andrew. She's just trying to get your attention. Boy-crazy girls these days are pros. They do not just want to be eye candy. They also play up this act of being a clueless, pretty airhead," Claire continued.
The grad guys around us burst out laughing, their eyes hungrily drifting all over me.
I was dressed super simple today, just a plain white dress and a pair of pearl earrings.
Was this what she called flaunting?
I couldn't be bothered wasting more words on her. Instead, I fixed a cold stare on Andrew.
"So this is the elite research team you're so proud of? All they do is gossip. Anyone who didn't know better would think this was some small‑town gossip hub," I said.
Andrew's face stiffened, and he stepped forward, grabbing my wrist.
"Claire might sound harsh, but she's got a good heart. She's here for the science, not to play games or mess around," Andrew said.
"Besides, she's just a little on edge right now. Cut her some slack," he added.
I shook off his hand, finding it absurd.
"Am I her mom or her therapist? I've put up with her enough already. She's the one who won't let it go," I shot back.
Claire suddenly straightened up and jabbed a finger right at my face. "Getting flustered, huh? Hit a nerve, did I?"
"Look at all those knock‑off designer pieces you're wearing. Probably some sugar daddy bought them for you. Who do you think you are, parading around like some rich heiress?" Claire continued.
"This is a research lab, a place for data and truth, not for someone like you who treats her womb as a bargaining chip!" Claire spat.
Andrew pressed his fingers to his brow, clearly exasperated. "Sophia, enough already. We've got some critical data to process. You should go home. And don't come back to the lab anymore. This really isn't your scene."
"Claire might be blunt, but she has a point. You focus way too much on appearances, and that consumerist trap can really eat away at your soul," Andrew added.
I laughed in disbelief.
The supplies I anonymously donate to his lab every month could buy out Claire ten times over.
And now he was lecturing me about consumerism eating away at my soul?
"Fine." I nodded, letting my eyes sweep over everyone who was just here to watch the drama unfold.
"Remember, Andrew, this was your decision. Let's see if your oh-so-pure lab can keep running on nothing but passion alone," I said with a smirk.
With that, I turned and walked away.
Behind me, Claire's smug, mocking voice rang out.
"Triggered already? What a spoiled princess. Can't handle the heat. She'd probably fall apart without a guy for three days tops. Andrew, just ignore her. Let's get back to work. We have to get this model running tonight!" Claire said.
As soon as I stepped out of the lab building, I shot a message to my secretary.
[Notify finance to immediately freeze all funding grants allocated to the Grant Research Group at Westbridge University's School of Life Sciences.]
By the time I got home, Andrew hadn't called or sent a single message to explain himself.
This was his cold‑shouldering move. Every time I didn't do what he wanted, he'd pull this stunt to make me back down.
But this time, I was completely drained.