The whirring of the sewing machines, usually a comforting background noise, seed amplified today, each buzz and whir a jarring reminder of the chaotic events of the morning. Lyse sat at her desk, staring at her table screen, but the lines of dress she was trying to design felt like squiggly lines before her eyes and they refused to make sense. Her mind kept replaying the confrontation with Levi and Brandon, the raw emotions that had surfaced, the lingering hurt and confusion. She tried to focus on her work, to imrse herself in the familiar rhythm of her tasks, but her thoughts kept drifting back to the two n, their words echoing in her mind.
She sighed, pushing away from her desk and walking over to the window. The city sprawled beneath her, a tapestry of concrete and steel, bustling with life. But Lyse felt disconnected, isolated from the vibrant energy of the tropolis. She felt like an outsider, watching the world go by, unable to participate in its vibrant dance with the unhappiness all around her.
She had considered abandoning the atelier, after all Levi had been the one to give it to her. But she decided that she deserved it for the stress he had put her through, plus she would pay him rent soon enough so that it would be strictly transactional between them. She did not want anything of his, but this? She had worked too hard to just relinquish it.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted outside her office door. Raised voices, frantic pleas, and the distinct sound of soone forcing their way through a barrier. Lyse frowned, her unease growing. She recognized the shrill tone of the voice – Brooke, what was she doing here at this ti?
Her secretary, Mrs. Evangeline, poked her head into Lyse’s office, her face etched with panic. "Ms. Lyse," she stamred, "Ms. Brooke... she’s here. She’s insisting on seeing you. I tried to stop her, but..."
Before Mrs. Evangeline could finish her sentence, Brooke burst into the office, her face flushed with anger, her eyes blazing with fury. She ignored Mrs. Evangeline frantic attempts to intervene, her gaze fixed on Lyse.
"You!" Brooke spat, her voice dripping with venom. "You think you are so clever, don’t you? Trying to steal Brandon away from !"
Lyse sighed, her weariness deepening. She had expected this. She had known that Brooke wouldn’t let this go.
"Mrs. Evangeline, please," Lyse said calmly, addressing her secretary. "Leave us alone."
Mrs. Evangeline hesitated, her eyes filled with concern. "But, Ms. Lyse..."
"It’s alright, Mrs. Evangeline," Lyse reassured her. "I can handle this."
With a warning glare at Brooke, Mrs. Evangeline retreated, closing the door behind her. Lyse turned her attention back to Brooke, her expression cool and composed.
"What do you want, Brooke?" she asked, her voice even.
Brooke glared at her, her chest heaving with anger. "You know what I want," she hissed. "I want you to stay away from Brandon. He is mine."
The sight of Brandon on a video standing up for Lyse had made her see red, here she was trying to get his attention and he was speaking on the internet on behalf of Lyse. It was already bad enough that Levi had done a press conference supporting her.
Lyse raised an eyebrow. "He is yours? Last ti I checked, Brandon has his own agency and is capable of making his own decisions."
Brooke scoffed. "Don’t play innocent with ," she sneered. "You are trying to take him away from , is Levi not enough for you?"
Lyse’s lips curled into a wry smile. "My relationship with Levi is none of your business, but I have never had to "take" any man."
Brooke’s eyes narrowed. "Don’t lie to ," she spat. "You are nothing but a howrecker, Lyse. You’re a snake. You slither into people’s lives and destroy everything."
Lyse remained silent, refusing to be drawn into Brooke’s accusations. It was a constant refrain from her, despite it being her who had always taken anything she had.
"You’re jealous, Brooke," Lyse said finally, her voice soft but firm. "You’re jealous because you know that Brandon doesn’t love you. He never did."
Brooke’s face contorted with rage. "That’s not true!" she scread. "He loves ! He is going to marry !"
Lyse simply shrugged. "If that’s what you need to believe, Brooke, then go ahead. But don’t co here accusing of stealing your boyfriend. I have no interest at all in Brandon."
Brooke’s anger seed to escalate with every word Lyse spoke. She stepped closer, her eyes blazing with fury.
"You think you are so high and mighty, don’t you?" she hissed. "You think you’re better than everyone else. But you’re nothing, Lyse. You’re just a... a gold-digger!"
Lyse remained calm, her gaze steady. "Is that all you’ve got, Brooke?" she asked, her voice laced with boredom. "Insults? Na-calling? I expected more from you."
Brooke’s face flushed crimson. She opened her mouth to speak, but Lyse cut her off.
"You are the one who’s stealing from , Brooke," Lyse said, her voice turning cold.
Brooke’s eyes widened in surprise. "What are you talking about?" she stamred.
"Don’t play dumb with ," Lyse said, her voice hardening. "I know you have been stealing my designs and trying to sabotage . I have the proof."
Brooke’s face paled. She took a step back, her eyes darting around the room, as if looking for an escape route.
"I... I don’t know what you’re talking about," she mumbled, her voice trembling slightly. "You are trying to change the subject."
Lyse’s lips curled into a knowing smile. "Don’t you?" she asked. "I think you do."
She reached for the intercom on her desk and pressed the button. "Mrs. Evangeline, could you please ask Joel to co in here for a mont?" she said, her voice clear and steady.
Brooke’s eyes widened with panic. She had a strong feeling that she had walked into sothing that felt like a trap. Lyse’s accusations and her confidence made her belly twist in fear.
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