Chapter 3

I had no interest in arguing with these idiots.

Right now I just wanted to finish the presentation and leave this place reeking of old-world misogyny.

But my patience and retreat, in Sophia's eyes, became a signal for her to continue her attack.

She extended her hands with their long artificial nails and dug them viciously into my chin.

Her tone contemptuous: "Women like you, I've seen plenty! Pretty enough to flaunt yourself and seduce men—you're cheap trash. Sharing the same space with you disgusts me!"

"Still want to show off in front of the group leadership? Kill that dream! Don't go up there and embarrass the company!"

"Be smart and get lost now, before I have to do it myself."

She shoved me away violently, her nails scratching a red mark across my chin.

I was already unsteady on my feet. This push made me stumble and crash hard into the door frame.

I clutched my arm in pain and turned to glare at Sophia.

"Malicious slander! Workplace bullying! Your days as department manager are numbered! You better wait—I hope you won't be begging me on your knees later!"

With that, I ignored these people and turned toward my desk.

Behind me came Sophia's mocking laughter: "Ooh, I'm so scared. I'd like to see who ends up kneeling to whom!"

The manager's office door slammed shut. I walked to my desk under everyone's judgmental stares and opened my computer. A message popped up in the bottom right corner.

It was from HR director Rachel Norton.

"Laura, come to my office."

Looking at those words, my heart sank.

I walked into Rachel's office. She was organizing files in her hands.

Seeing me, she spoke without looking up: "You've been fired. This is the termination agreement. Take a look, and if there's no problem, sign it."

She handed me the document.

I skimmed through it, my fingers gripping the papers so hard they turned white.

"What's the reason?"

I slapped the agreement on the desk.

Rachel raised an eyebrow at me, then after a long moment, sighed: "Laura, we're all civilized people. Some things are better left unsaid for everyone's sake. Listen to me, sign it and leave early. Don't make it ugly for everyone in the end."

She spoke with apparent concern, but I couldn't help laughing.

"Let's be direct then. I'm asking you—what grounds do you have to fire me? I haven't been late, left early, or been absent. My work ability speaks for itself. I haven't violated any company rules or regulations!"

Rachel looked at me, her tone calm: "Your personal morals are questionable and would tarnish the company's image. Is that reason enough?"

She spoke as calmly as if stating the most ordinary fact.

I was shaking with anger.

I leaned on the desk, speaking word by word: "What evidence do you have? You want to condemn me based on slander?"

Seeing my agitation, Rachel patted my hand.

"I know you're unwilling, but this is a directive from above. I have no choice either. We're all just workers—don't make this hard for me..."

Still that calm tone, calm to the point of numbness.

At that moment I deeply understood the phrase "those who wrong you know your grievance better than anyone."

She wasn't unaware that I was being slandered, but she chose cold indifference.

I took a deep breath, suppressing my anger.

"I won't make it hard for you. Just tell me the truth—this is Sophia's doing, isn't it?"

Rachel glanced carefully at the door.

She nodded slightly and spoke quietly: "Mr. Miller sent the email personally..."