Chapter 8

The next morning, tension hummed through the walls of Carrington Corp.

Damian stood at the center of the executive conference room, arms folded, his eyes locked on Lara who suddenly looked much smaller than her usual high-heeled confidence.

“You accessed a file from my assistant’s drive,” he said, voice low and sharp. “Without permission.”

Lara cleared her throat. “I…I thought you asked me to…”

“I didn’t,” he cut in. “And forging a system request? That’s a serious offense.”

“Sir, I swear, it was just a misunderstanding…”

He raised a hand, and the room fell silent.

“This is a multi-billion-dollar firm, not a playground. You don’t get to sabotage people here and expect a promotion.”

Lara’s face flushed with humiliation, her lip trembling.

“I trusted you,” Damian continued, voice clipped. “But clearly, that trust was misplaced.”

Then he turned to Zoe, who stood quietly at the edge of the room.

“Miss Bennett. You were right to defend yourself. I apologize for doubting you.”

Zoe blinked. The room was silent.

Did Damian Carrington just say the word apologize?

Lara stormed out, heels clacking like gunfire on the polished floor.

Zoe looked at Damian. “Thank you.”

He gave a single nod. “We’re not finished.”

Later that day

Zoe sat in the break room with a glass of water, finally letting herself breathe for the first time in days.

She felt like she’d won a battle.

But just as she reached for her phone, a notification popped up.

A message from an unknown number:

“Sloppy girls get sloppy endings. You won’t survive the next round.”

Her heart sank.

Zoe didn’t need three guesses to know who sent it.

Meanwhile, across Manhattan…

Vanessa sat at an exclusive salon, a glass of champagne in hand, as a tablet sat open in front of her. On screen was a series of photos grainy, but clear enough.

Zoe. Damian. In the elevator. Talking. Smiling. His hand brushing her shoulder.

Vanessa tapped a folder labeled “CONFIDENTIAL” and opened a document with Zoe’s personal records, old college reports, social media screenshots, and even images from her previous internships.

A thin smile spread across her lips.

“You want war?” she whispered to herself. “Let’s see how the world reacts when they think you slept your way into a job.”

She sent the email draft to her PR contact with a click.

Subject line:

“Leaked: Carrington CEO’s New Flame — Ex-Intern with a History of ‘Climbing’ Her Way Up.”

Back at Carrington Corp., Zoe walked out of the elevator into sudden silence.

Eyes were on her. Phones were out. A few people stared at their screens and quickly looked away when she passed.

Her stomach churned.

She reached her desk and froze.

An envelope lay there. No name. Just a single printed sheet inside.

She opened it with trembling hands.

It was the email leak.

With her name. Her face.

And the headline:

“Sleeping Her Way to the Top?”

Zoe’s knees buckled slightly as she sat down, breath shallow.

Then… Damian’s door opened.

He held a tablet in his hand. His jaw was tight. His eyes unreadable.

“Zoe,” he said. “Come in. Now.”