The rage and gossip 2

 "You don't know how low that girl can go just to climb to the top," the first voice sneered, her lips curling in disdain. The dimly lit break room buzzed with whispers, the air th

"You don't know how low that girl can go just to climb to the top," the first voice sneered, her lips curling in disdain.

 The dimly lit break room buzzed with whispers, the air thick with judgment. 

"She doesn't even have a proper certificate. I heard she practically begged Mr. Chris for that position, just to stay close to him. He thinks she's sincere, but she's just trying to worm her way into his bed."

Her words hung in the air like a thick fog, and the other employees exchanged glances, their faces a mix of intrigue and disbelief. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the thrill of gossip.

"I don't think she's like that," countered a third voice, firm and unwavering, cutting through the murmur of dissent.

 "Olivia has always been kind, putting everyone else first. I don't see her having feelings for Mr. Chris."

 The speaker leaned against the counter, arms crossed defensively, as if ready to shield Olivia from their barbs.

The first one scoffed, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "How do you know?"

"Do you know how cruel Jessy is?" the third voice pressed, leaning in as if sharing a dark secret.

 "She has a servant but made Olivia work out in the rain, all just to create the perfect scene for her party. And then she bought a ring in Olivia's name, just to provoke her. It didn't work, though."

"I was there when Olivia opened that box," another chimed in, eyes wide with the memory.

 "I saw the receipt—it was all in her name. At first, I thought it was a gift from some admirer, but she told me it was from Mr. Chris. She delivered it to Jessy in the rain. That was just cruel."

I stood nearby, tension coiling in my chest like a snake ready to strike. 

The whispers washed over me, but I felt like I was drowning in a sea of accusations and half-truths.

 "Seems like you all are tired of working for this company," I snapped, my voice slicing through the chatter, sharp as a knife.

 "If you're so eager to tarnish Jessica's reputation, feel free to bring your resignation letters to me."

Gasps echoed in the small room, their shocked faces reflecting a mix of fear and defiance.

 I clenched my fists, anger bubbling beneath the surface, a storm ready to break.

"I grew up with Jessica," one girl blurted out, her voice rising in protest, shaking slightly.

 "She's one of the best people I know! After Livia left, she was so kind. She could never be that cruel!"

"It's all Olivia's fault," another voice piped up, venom lacing each word like poison.

 "She's manipulated you all into badmouthing Jessy. If I hadn't seen it myself, I wouldn't believe Olivia's true nature."

A cold fury washed over me, sharpening my resolve. 

"I will make you suffer, Olivia," I thought, the words echoing in my mind like a dark incantation. 

"You think you're safe under the roof of the Golden Estate?"

That estate belonged to Livia, my fiancée, and soon enough, Olivia would find herself out on the street, unceremoniously tossed aside as if she were nothing more than a temporary inconvenience. 

I pulled out my phone, my fingers trembling with a mix of anger and determination as I dialed Sharon's number, my heart racing with each ring.

"Hello, Chris," her voice came through, light and cheerful, but I wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. I needed answers, and I needed them fast.

"Sharon, how are you?" I gritted out, forcing my voice to remain steady, though the frustration bubbled just beneath the surface.

"I'm alright. You called this afternoon—hope everything is fine?" she asked, her tone shifting to concern, sensing the tension in my voice.

"Sure, I'm okay. Can you give me Livia's number? There's something important I need to discuss with her," I said, urgency creeping into my voice like a thief in the night.

A giggle floated through the line, but it only fueled my irritation.

 "If it's about Olivia, I'm sorry. She's made up her mind. Clinton Belton approved her position, and that's a gift from Livia to Olivia," Sharon said, her tone almost mocking.

My brow furrowed, anger flaring hotter than a wildfire. "Can you at least give me her number? I want to talk to her directly."

"I'm sorry, Chris. It's against her policy, and I can't do that. 

You can meet Clinton; he's the best person to give it to you," Sharon said before cutting the call, leaving me staring at my screen, frustration boiling over.

I stared at my phone, the screen bright against the dim light of my office. 

**How could Livia approve of Olivia and Clinton's relationship?** My heart raced with disbelief and betrayal. **How could she go against me?** The thought twisted in my mind, a thorn that wouldn't budge.

The walls of my office felt like they were closing in, the air heavy with unspoken tension as I paced back and forth, trying to gather my thoughts.

 I couldn't let this slide. I needed to confront Olivia directly, to understand why she was allowed to stay under the Golden Estate when she was clearly a threat to everything I had built.

My mind raced through the possibilities, each more unsettling than the last. What did Olivia have over Livia? Was there a connection I was missing? The more I thought about it, the more I felt the ground shift beneath me.

As I stood there, lost in thought, a memory flashed through my mind—a moment on the rooftop of the Golden Estate, the city skyline stretching endlessly before us. 

Livia had laughed, her eyes sparkling with joy, as she spoke about her dreams for the future. I had envisioned us building something beautiful together, a life intertwined with success and love.

But now, that vision felt fragile, like glass teetering on the edge of a precipice. If Olivia was manipulating the situation, I couldn't let it continue. I had to act.