Chapter 3

On Sunday morning, a loud burst of laughter came from the living room.

Ashley had brought over her rich boyfriend, Tyler Reynolds.

Tyler was wearing hyped streetwear, but his sneakers were covered in thick, black mud.

He walked right in, leaving muddy footprints all over Ashley’s prized white wool rug.

Ashley, who usually demanded I disinfect the toilet three times after using it, acted like a spineless puppy.

She completely ignored the mud.

Instead, she giggled, poured him drinks, and practically glued herself to his side.

"Babe, you have to help me. My psycho roommate is bullying me every single day."

Tyler blew a puff of vape smoke, looking contemptuously at my closed bedroom door.

"Don't worry about it. I'll handle it."

Half an hour later, the landlord banged on my door, furious.

Tyler immediately whipped out a thick stack of cash, throwing down double the security deposit to buy off the greedy landlord.

The landlord's face changed instantly. He told me I had three days to pack my bags and get out.

But they weren't done.

On Monday morning, the moment I arrived at the office, my manager called me into his office and screamed at me.

He claimed my performance was terrible and that clients were complaining.

Then, he stripped me of the core project I had been working on for six months and handed it to someone else.

Specifically, to the new hire who had just been fast-tracked into the company today—Ashley Vance.

Ashley, dressed in a designer pantsuit and high heels, strutted out.

She was already trying to establish her "minimalist, clean-girl influencer" persona in the office.

On her first day, she demanded that everyone keep a three-foot distance from her.

During lunch, she walked over to my desk.

She pinched her nose, using a folder to fan the air away from me.

"Chloe, your low-class germs are literally drifting onto my custom blazer."

She picked up my stainless-steel mug with two fingers, looking disgusted.

"Your mug is contaminating my files. I'll buy you a new one out of my own pocket, okay?"

The entire office fell silent. Everyone looked at me with pity.

I stood up calmly.

I opened my drawer and pulled out a portable digital microscope.

I walked right up to her and pressed the lens against her precious custom blazer.

The microscope was connected to my phone screen. I turned the brightness to the maximum.

"Oh my god!"

I suddenly gasped, raising my voice so the entire office could hear.

"Ashley, why is your blazer covered in dead skin cells and... pubic lice?!"

The entire office gasped.

Ashley’s face drained of color.

"What lies! This was just dry-cleaned!"

I put on a pair of medical rubber gloves.

Taking a pair of tweezers, I reached into her lapel with precision.

I pulled out a coarse, curly, yellowish hair that definitely wasn't hers.

I held the hair high for everyone to see.

"Clean girl? Dry-cleaned custom blazer?"

"Which guy’s hair is this? You didn't even shake it off before wearing it to work?"

Before she could speak, I pulled a giant bottle of disinfectant spray from my bag.

"Everyone back up! She’s a walking biohazard!"

My coworkers scrambled away from her like she had the plague.

When I got home after work, it was pouring rain.

The moment I got to the building, I saw all my bags thrown into the muddy driveway.

The landlord had already changed the locks.

And my golden retriever, Nugget, was chained to a wet bush by the security guard, shivering and whimpering in the freezing rain.

Job stolen, apartment gone, dog abused.

A triple threat of misery slammed down on me.

Tyler stood under the awning, his arm around Ashley’s waist, looking down at me in the rain.

"Keep fighting us, loser. You're just a broke bitch at the end of the day."

I didn't say a word. I picked up Nugget and took him straight to the best 24-hour pet hospital to board him.

Then, dragging my soaked luggage, I checked into a cheap motel.

In Tyler and Ashley's eyes, I had completely lost.

But this was just a strategic retreat.

The trap was set.