Chapter 6: Accused the Wrong Person

Now, as if a veil had been lifted from my eyes, I could perceive with stark clarity the nature of the looks being directed at me during my speech. Contrary to my earlier, naive interpretation of these gazes as signals of encouragement, I now discerned that they were, in fact, mocking smiles. What I had mistaken for consistent, supportive grins etched upon their faces were actually the amused expressions of people witnessing what they perceived to be a farce. Reflecting on it now, I realize that I should have been more perceptive, especially when I noticed Daisy's pallid complexion. However, I was too ensnared in my own thoughts, too intoxicated by the rush of anticipation over the prospect of publicly dismantling Aiden's reputation, to truly grasp the reality of the situation.

Is this what the corrosive power of hatred does to a person? If so, I wanted no part in such a destructive emotion anymore.

At this moment of raw self-awareness, I felt a profound sense of remorse for Aiden. In truth, Aiden hadn't really wronged me, aside from that one night where we both lost control and did something we swore we would never speak of again. So why had I allowed myself to become so consumed by this need for retribution that I ended up humiliating myself in front of everyone?

When I finally mustered the courage to lift my head, my gaze met Aiden's unwavering stare. It was instantly apparent that looking up had been a grievous mistake. Throughout the entire ordeal, from the moment I was seated for the interview to this very second, his eyes had remained fixed on me. The intensity of his gaze made it impossible for me to look away, as though I were caught in a hypnotic trance fueled by my own terror. My mind struggled to process anything else.

I felt a hand tug at me—it must have been Daisy—and I followed like a puppet. As we moved through the crowd, I saw a mass of people exchanging pleasantries, many of them pointing at me. Daisy constantly refused company, gesturing to me before getting back to her seat beside me. I felt her squeeze my hand a couple of times, perhaps in comfort. At this point, I wasn’t sure of anything anymore, except that Aiden was still gazing at me.

I don’t even remember how I managed to leave the venue. My mind was a fog of panic and dread. By the time I found myself at my workstation that evening, I was exhausted and emotionally drained. I just wanted to disappear.

Of course, things didn't get any better. As I sat there, staring blankly at my computer screen, bits of conversation floated around me, each word cutting through the air.

The whispers were nonstop, each one sharper than the last. I could feel their eyes on me, their judgment heavy. My "generous" speech had gone viral, apparently. Great. Just great.

"Did you hear? Aiden Katz is going to fire her," one coworker said, not even bothering to lower their voice.

"Yeah, and they might even sue her. What a mess," another chimed in, their voice dripping with fake pity that felt more like a slap in the face.

"Honestly, what was she thinking? Did she really believe that would go over well?" a third voice joined in, the disdain in their tone making my stomach churn.

"I know, right? It's like she wanted to sabotage herself," the fourth added, their laughter echoing cruelly in the quiet office.

"I heard Aiden was livid. Like, practically foaming at the mouth," yet another coworker whispered, their voice hushed as if sharing a juicy secret.

"And Claire? Poor Claire. She's probably regretting ever stepping foot in this place," someone else concluded, their fake sympathy as thin as the paper they shuffled on their desk.

I tried to tune them out, but their voices grew louder, the weight of their words pressing down on me, suffocating me. Each comment felt like a nail being hammered into the coffin of my career. I could feel the heat rising to my face, my pulse quickening with a mix of humiliation and anger. How had it come to this? How had I let things spiral so out of control?

The screen in front of me blurred, and for a split second, I wondered if I was being abducted by aliens.

Utterly laughable.

Lucas was a lowlife, but was I any better? No, I was even more of a mess.

What was I thinking with that stunt?

I should’ve played the sad card and looked pitiful instead. Now, thanks to my big, dumb idea, Lucas Reed somehow looks like the winner.

I felt like a lead weight had settled in my stomach. Losing my job felt inevitable now. I needed to do something, anything, to fix this. That’s when I remembered the client, Lucas. The one who had sent me a love letter. It was a ridiculous, misguided attempt at flattery.

I decided to go and settle accounts with the instigator.

I found Lucas in the break room, nursing a cup of coffee. The aroma of the freshly brewed coffee mingled with the sterile scent of the office, creating a strange contrast that mirrored the unease building inside me. He looked up as I approached, his face breaking into a hopeful smile that only served to irritate me further.

"Claire," he said, his voice warm and welcoming as if we were old friends. "I didn't expect to see you here at this hour."

I forced myself to take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. "Mr Reed, we need to talk," I said, my voice betraying the storm of emotions churning within me.

His eyes lit up with a mix of excitement and curiosity, completely oblivious, as if I had not just suffered an unjust humiliation because of his inappropriately worded love letter. "Of course, Claire. What's on your mind?" he asked, leaning forward slightly, as if eager to hear some wonderful news.

I endeavored to maintain a calm and measured tone, striving to mask my underlying frustration and anxiety; however, despite my best efforts, these emotions inevitably seeped through.

"First of all," I began, taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady my voice, "it’s Ms. Madden for you." I paused briefly, gathering my thoughts and trying to suppress the trembling that had begun to infiltrate my speech.

"Also, regarding that… love letter you sent me," I continued, the very phrase "love letter" now forever tainted in my mind, evoking a profound sense of being taken advantage of. The words felt heavy and alien on my tongue, laden with an unwelcome familiarity.

"Why did you think it was a good idea to sign your name like that?" I queried, my voice betraying a blend of incredulity and dismay.

He chuckled softly, a sound that seemed to be born of sheer ignorance regarding the gravity of the situation at hand.

"Why did you put the form letter in a folder and have Aiden bring it?"

"Because I'm an introverted and shy person, I've liked you for a long time, and I'm scared to even confess to you, I'm afraid that my heart will beat faster if I look at you one more time, it just so happened that I saw that your department needed that document, so I thought of a classically romantic way to do it, and it just so happened that Aiden needed that document, so I asked him to help me to pass it to you. It's a romantic way of confessing your love, it can't be too direct, isn't that how it's done in the movies, there always has to be a middleman to pass the word."

“As far as the sign of my name goes, I think that's a form of humor, I'm just trying to play a joke on you, baby. Make you feel like you're going straight to the clouds. Make you think it's a confession from Aiden, get in a lost mood, and then finally turn over the love letter only to find it's your favorite me. I was there to give you a lost and found surprise, my sweet.”

"Sweetheart, it looks like you're a little angry, did something happen? Was Aiden disappointed that he criticized you because he was so jealous of me? I knew it. It must be because I'm more handsome than him and got your fancy before he did. He got too jealous of me and went crazy."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I watched Lux, who was as short as a fat leather ball, pontificate in front of me.

"I don't care to explain it to you." You're killing me. The second half of the sentence almost came out.

I heard Aiden works out a lot, maybe he's reached the highest level in boxing, he's not going to beat me up over this, is he?

"How about it, aren’t you pleasantly surprised? I even went the extra mile to ensure it was personally submitted by ‘His royal highness.’ Baby, don’t you like me more now?"

Like you, my ass! If I had been sad earlier, now I wanted to murder someone!

Lucas's perked up, and I straight up feel like I'm going to choke when I hear the man who started it all.

“Surprise, my ass,” I snapped, my irritation bursting forth like a dam breaking under pressure. “I wouldn't like you even if I did like our boss.”

...

The room fell into a pin-drop silence.

There was a moment of stunned quiet, a silence so profound it was almost deafening. And then, slicing through the air like a razor-sharp knife, a familiar voice cut through the stillness. "What did you just say?"

My heart plummeted as I turned around to see Aiden Katz standing in the doorway. His expression was unreadable, but the tension in the air was palpable. Every pair of eyes in the room shifted from me to him, the weight of the collective gaze only adding to the suffocating pressure.

"Nothing," I stammered, my voice betraying me with a nervous quiver. I forced a smile, hoping it might defuse the situation. "I didn’t say anything."

Aiden’s gaze didn’t waver, his dark eyes boring into mine with an intensity that made it clear he wasn’t buying my feeble attempt at nonchalance. He took a step forward, the soft click of his shoes on the tiled floor echoing in the now eerily silent room.

"Ms Madden, follow me to my office," he commanded, his voice low but leaving no room for argument.

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry as sandpaper. The knot in my stomach tightened as I nodded mutely and started towards the door. Each step felt like walking through quicksand, slow and laborious, as I struggled to maintain a facade of calm.