Chapter 3

Abby's face was still streaked with tears, her jaw dropped so wide you could fit an egg in there, and her eyes were filled with utter disbelief.

She probably never dreamed that the random accusation she'd tossed out about being a "sugar baby" would actually have some actual physical proof behind it.

And that proof hit like a loud, stinging slap, landing squarely on both her and Josiah's faces.

Looking at their ghostly pale faces, there was no sense of triumph in my heart, just a heavy, lingering sorrow that wouldn't go away.

I turned, got into the car, and started the engine.

This time, Josiah didn't try to stop me. He just stood there, dazed, clutching that yellowed check in his hand, like a puppet whose soul had been ripped away.

I floored the gas, leaving them and all that ugly history far behind me.

Outside the window, the city lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors as they sped past.

At last, my tears fell silently down my face.

The next day, when I walked into the office, I finally understood what it meant to be crushed by the weight of gossip.

The whole place felt thick and weird, like the air was heavy with secrets.

In the elevator, my coworkers who'd been laughing and chatting suddenly went quiet the moment I stepped in, trading those silent, knowing glances that made my skin crawl.

Down the hallway, everyone's eyes glued to me, full of curiosity, gossip, pity, and even a hint of contempt.

The whispers in the break room cut off the second I pushed the door open.

Expressionless, I poured myself a glass of water, turned, and walked out.

The company's internal forum was in total chaos.

An anonymous post titled [Shocking Scoop! Digging Up the Love-Hate Saga Between the New Office Goddess and the Big Shot Investor!] shot straight to the top of the trending list.

The post spun a wild tale, dramatically reenacting last night's fiasco, then spiced it up with even more outrageous rumors and "exclusive details."

It claimed I'd shamelessly chased after Josiah back in college, desperate to marry up because my family was poor.

After Josiah dumped me, the post said I never gave up scheming, plotting for ages just to join this company and wait for a chance to get revenge, determined to destroy Josiah and Abby's happy family.

In the post, Abby was painted as an innocent victim, pure, kind, and willing to suffer in silence for love.

Meanwhile, I was cast as the calculating, cutthroat "evil ex-girlfriend" who'd do whatever it took to get ahead.

There were hundreds of comments below, and most of them were just tearing me apart.

[I always knew something was off about her. Getting promoted to manager so young? She must have some serious tricks up her sleeve.]

[Poor Abby. Her husband really got the short end of the stick, marrying an ex like that.]

[Someone like her should just get kicked out. Totally shameless.]

The rumors spread faster than a virus.

That afternoon, out of the blue, the partner called me up. They said they wanted to "rethink who should be in charge of the project."

The reason was they were worried my so-called reputation might drag down the project's image.

I hung up, staring at the proposal I'd spent a whole week putting together on my computer screen. All I felt was a crushing sense of powerless anger.

Even the colleagues who used to be friendly with me started going out of their way to avoid me.

The lunch invites stopped, and handoffs were reduced to frosty emails.

I was totally cut off. In this huge glass office building, I became an island that everyone steered clear of.

I didn't bother defending myself, and I didn't waste my breath arguing with anyone.

I knew that when gossip took over, the truth didn't mean squat.

I just quietly opened up my computer and buried a new folder deep in my D drive. I called it: "Payback."

I started calmly reviewing everything, tracing it all the way back to my college days.

Back then, Abby was just a junior from another major, but she always happened to show up wherever Josiah and I went on dates.

At the library, the movie theater, or the snack street near campus. She'd always greet us with that innocent smile. "Emily, Josiah, what a coincidence."

Back then, I thought it was just chance. But looking back now, who really believes in that many coincidences?

I picked up my phone and made a call. "Hey Penny, it's Emily," I said.