The question struck Anne like a bolt of electricity, tensing her body. She wrenched herself from Augustine’s arms and stumbled backward frantically.
"I—I’m fine," she blurted out, betraying her obvious discomfort.
Augustine’s eyes narrowed, unconvinced. Fine? She looked anything but fine. Every movent scread unease, every glance avoided him like he was the source of sothing she couldn’t handle.
Before he could press further, Anne pivoted and fled.
She rushed into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her. Leaning against it, she squeezed her eyes shut, her breath coming fast and uneven. She bit her lip hard, as if trying to contain the ss of emotions swirling inside her.
"What is wrong with ?" she whispered, pressing her palms against her burning cheeks.
Her heart was still racing, the phantom sensation of Augustine’s warmth lingering on her skin. His scent, so intoxicating, still clung to her senses. It was maddening.
"That dream... damn that dream," she muttered under her breath. But if it was just a dream, why did her body still tingle? Why did she feel breathless?
She shook her head, willing to shrug the thoughts away. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, her pulse refused to settle.
Outside the bedroom, Augustine stood frozen, staring at the closed door with a deep frown etched on his face. Confusion swirled in his eyes.
"What the hell just happened?"
One mont, Anne had been standing close, adjusting his tie. And the next, she had bolted like she had seen a ghost.
He had noticed her weird behavior from the mont she sat at the breakfast table—the nervous fidgeting, the way she avoided his eyes, the flush that refused to leave her cheeks.
"What’s wrong with her?" he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.
~~~~~~~~~~
The office was abuzz with hushed whispers and murmured speculations. Employees gathered in small clusters, their voices rising and falling with barely contained outrage as they discussed the scandal of the day.
When Anne arrived, she found her colleagues engrossed in heated discussions, their expressions a mix of anger and disbelief. She had expected this—had been waiting for it—but she masked her satisfaction with feigned ignorance as she approached the group.
"What’s going on?" she asked with a look of concern. "Why is everyone so worked up?"
One of the won shook her head in exasperation. "Becca leaked confidential company information to our rival’s official site," she explained. "The boss is furious. He called her into his office." She twisted her lips in rage, a knowing look in her eyes. "She is dood."
Anne resisted the urge to smirk. Instead, she let her eyes widen in mock surprise, pressing her fingers on her lips. "What a sha! I really thought we were friends," she lanted. "But she stabbed in the back—betrayed . And to think, just yesterday, she deleted a crucial file from my laptop. She deserves to be fired for her actions."
A few of her colleagues exchanged glances, recalling the argunt between Anne and Becca the day before.
"You were arguing with her, weren’t you?" a man chid in, his curiosity piqued. "What actually happened?"
Anne sighed exaggeratedly before diving into her story. "I caught her sneaking into my desk and deleting the file. I saw it all on the security footage," she explained everything that had happened the day before.
"Luckily, I had a backup saved on Google Drive. Otherwise, I would’ve been the one paying the price for her actions."
She grimaced deeply as if struggling to contain her emotions. "At first, I thought she had just deleted the file out of spite, but now? It’s clear she stole confidential data from my laptop. She was trying to sabotage . And all this ti, I trusted her—I even shared my secrets with her—but she must have resented ."
Murmurs of agreent rippled through the group.
"This is too much," one of them muttered.
"She has to face the consequences," another agreed.
A chorus of voices echoed the sentint, nodding in unison.
Anne let out a slow breath, basking in the mont. Everything was unfolding exactly as she had anticipated.
A victorious smirk danced on Anne’s lips. ’Becca, your little ga has co to an end,’ she mused, satisfaction curling in her chest. ’And Denis—your precious project is as good as dead. Once the investors pull out, you’ll have no choice but to shut it down.’
Just then, Denis’s office doors swung open, and Becca stord out, her face flushed with anger and humiliation. Tear tracks glistened on her cheeks, betraying the full weight of her downfall.
The office fell into a hushed silence, all eyes shifting toward her.
Becca’s steps were quick and forceful as she stomped toward her desk, grabbing her belongings with frantic, jerky movents. But her hands stilled as her gaze locked onto Anne. Her expression twisted with fury.
"You—" she spat, her voice shaking. "It was you. You set up." She jabbed a finger toward Anne. "You did this, didn’t you?"
So exchanged glances, murmuring among themselves, while others simply waited for Anne’s reaction.
But the accusation didn’t rattle Anne. Instead, she lifted her chin slightly with a quiet triumph. Yes, this was her doing—every move had been carefully orchestrated.
’An eye for an eye,’ she murmured to herself, satisfaction humming through her veins.
Anne took a confident step forward, keeping her expression stern. She t Becca’s glare with an icy stare. "You stole the project details from my laptop and leaked them," she accused her back. "You were the one who tried to fra —desperate to tarnish my reputation and push out of this office. But this ti, the boss found out who the real traitor was."
Becca’s heart sank at the weight of her words. A shudder ran down her spine, but she masked it with defiance.
"It was you," she hissed, her entire body rigid with fury.
Her gaze flickered, scanning Anne’s face as if searching for cracks, for any sign of deceit—but she found none. Anne stood tall, unwavering, completely in control.
Becca’s chest tightened with frustration as she fought back the burning humiliation. She hadn’t touched the project file. How could she have leaked the data? She knew, without a shred of doubt, that Anne was behind it.
Anne had worked on the project. She had full access to the details. It had to be her. But the real question was—how did Anne get access to her system? Unlike Anne, she hadn’t shared her laptop password. Besides, her laptop was always with her.
"I know it’s you. How did you do it?" she snapped, her voice edged with both desperation and accusation.
Anne simply curled her lips into a slow, knowing smile that only made Becca’s frustration deepen. She didn’t need to answer. The result was already before them.
Anne stepped even closer and leaned in as she whispered laced with quiet nace, "Did you really think you could betray and walk away unscathed? This is payback. You tried to slander , humiliate , and sabotage —but now, the tables have turned."
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