Chapter 2

Standing on the 20th-floor rooftop of Sullivan Group, I held an amplified megaphone.

"Bastards! You're all bastards! You're trying to drive me to death!"

It was the peak of rush hour, and soon a crowd gathered below.

"I'm Eloise Quinn, I'm not a homewrecker! I'm not a two-faced bitch!"

The crowd below was in chaos, seemingly shouting something.

I couldn't hear them. They didn't have megaphones.

The wind on the rooftop was strong. I opened my mouth wide and roared. The wind rushed into my mouth, making me feel a bit nauseous. I cried and retched at the same time.

Paparazzi, alerted by the commotion, set up their cameras. The flashes were dazzling, even in broad daylight.

"Ugh— You're all bullying me! I swear to God! I've never done anything wrong. Those who hurt me recklessly, I curse you with my life, may you all die a horrible death— ugh—"

Soon, police cars arrived with their sirens blaring. They set up an air cushion below, but jumping from the 20th floor, even an air cushion wouldn't help. If the posture was wrong, death was inevitable.

People from Sullivan Group emerged behind me. A man in a suit extended his hand: "Miss Quinn, please calm down. We can negotiate whatever you want."

I recognized him, the head of the marketing department of Sullivan Group. He was the one who led the online attacks against me.

He was afraid I would die here.

"Scum! Bastard! Sullivan Group, you'll go bankrupt sooner or later!" I shouted into the megaphone, my saliva splattering on it in excitement.

"Ah, don't come closer, don't push me! Help—" I stared cruelly at the marketing head with a smile, then leaped off.

You're good at throwing dirt? I'll cover you in dirt even with my death!