Chapter 8

Skylar flitted around the open office area like a bright butterfly, dragging a massive foam box.

Her face was beaming, not a trace of tears or grievance left. Even her “injured” leg seemed perfectly agile now.

Seeing Julian and me emerge, her eyes lit up, and she grabbed two fruit salads, scurrying over.

“Ms. Stone! CEO! Here, these are yours! They’re super delicious!”

Julian took his naturally, even giving her an approving smile.

I, however, didn’t move.

My gaze fell on the plastic bowls in front of me—the cheap containers were almost transparent, and the bowl walls were stained with suspicious water marks.

Cheap fruit, spotted with brown, was submerged in a grayish-white, sticky liquid.

When I leaned closer, a strange odor, a mix of artificial flavoring and sourness, hit my nostrils.

My brow instantly furrowed.

“Assistant Skylar, where did you buy this fruit salad?”

Skylar’s smile stiffened for a moment, then she plastered on an even sweeter one. “Just… just near the company, you know.”

“Specifically which store?” I pressed, my gaze sharp as a knife. “Name? Address? Do you have a receipt?”

Skylar’s face instantly paled. Her eyes began to dart around frantically, her lips trembling, and her voice immediately took on a whimper:

“Ms… Ms. Stone… what… what do you mean by that?”

“I… I just thought I’d get everyone something nice…”

“My… my family isn’t well-off, I never had good things growing up… Maybe… maybe what I bought isn’t up to your standards…”

“But you… you don’t have to… insult me like that, do you?”

As she spoke, tears came on cue. Paired with that cautious, innocent expression, she looked exactly like a poor, helpless victim being bullied by a cruel villainess.

“Insult you?”

The anger I’d been holding back exploded!

I raised my voice, making sure the entire office could hear clearly: “I’m asking you for the source! This yogurt smells spoiled! Food safety is a serious matter! Everyone, don’t eat these yet!”

Silence instantly fell over the office area.

The employees who had been given fruit salads froze, exchanging uneasy glances.

“Anya Stone! That’s enough!” Julian’s enraged voice boomed.

His face was ashen, his eyes like knives, cutting into me, filled with unbelievable fury and… deep concern for Skylar.

As if to prove a point, or perhaps to spite me.

He abruptly tore off the lid of his own bowl and, in front of everyone, aggressively scooped several large spoonfuls into his mouth, chewed them haphazardly, and swallowed!

“I ate it! I think it’s fine!”

He slammed the empty bowl onto a nearby desk with a dull *thump*.

Then, his gaze, sharp as a blade, swept across every employee in the room, carrying blatant pressure and warning: “The CEO is treating, it’s a kind gesture! Everyone, don’t hold back!”

The air solidified.

Under immense pressure, some employees reluctantly began to eat.

Skylar seized the opportunity, covered her face, and let out a loud wail, turning and running towards the fire escape.

“Skylar!” Julian cried out anxiously, not even sparing me another glance, and rushed after her.

As he brushed past me, a gust of wind, bitingly cold, swept by.

I stood rooted to the spot.

Watching the fire escape door swing back and forth, watching the employees in the office with their varied expressions, watching the cheap plastic bowl on the desk emitting that strange odor…

My heart was filled with an unspeakable weariness.

Ten years of a beautiful illusion, now, finally, thoroughly shattered.