Chapter 2
1051 Words
Strings, Lies and Hidden Motives
Lynette’s Pov
By the next morning, the office feels different like someone replaced the air with glass overnight.
I came in early, hoping to slip to my desk unnoticed, but fate hates me.
The moment the elevator doors slide open, every conversation drops, again.
The meeting I usually lead? Gone. The weekly presentation? Reassigned. My schedule looked like someone emptied it with a vacuum. Every time I walked past a colleague, they stiffen like they were allergic to me. And the glances…they were worse today.
I was a toxic brand.
I sit at my desk, pretending to check emails. Most are ongoing tasks, so there was nothing new. It was like I had been put on probation and no one told me.
Across the office, Veronica, the PR director, spots me. Her brow arches made me nervous. She starts to walk over.
Great, just what I need.
Her heels hit the floor in a perfect rhythm. When she reaches my desk, she gives me a polite smile so polite, It’s practically a threat.
“Lynette,” she says softly, leaning closer. “I wanted to give you a gentle reminder.”
I kept my face composed even though my pulse was spiking. “Of course.:
“Maison Royale prides itself on professionalism,” she continues. “Optics matter, and right now, anything you do could be….magnified. I trust you understand?”
My fingers curl under the desk. “That article was not true.”
Her eyes widened just enough to show her amusement. “The truth is irrelevant. What the public believes is what shapes this company’s image. Please avoid embracing us any further.”
She leaves without another word, her perfume lingering like a poisonous flower.
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I open a blank document and pretend to be busy. My vision was blurry with tears.
They already judged me. No questions, no benefit of doubt.
Around noon, there’s a board meeting. I sit in my usual seat near the end of the table. No one sat besides me like I was radio active.
Halfway through the presentation, I feel eyes on me. I looked up to see he was staring right at me.
Justin Stonebridge.
He's across the table, dressed in a dark suit and an unreadable expression. He doesn't look angry, nor does he look sorry. He just stares at me.
Our eyes lock.
Does he think I leaked something?
Does he think I started this?
But he says nothing. His attention drifts back to the speaker. As if I am just a stranger he just noticed.
After the meeting, I pack my notes quietly, avoiding everyone. I’m almost at my desk when a voice stops me.
“Rough week?”
I turn.
It was Daniel Rowe.
He is tall, looks dangerously charming, his smile alone could get someone fired. He is a senior strategist, someone I had only spoken to twice but he walked towards me like we were old friends.
He lowers his voice. “I’m sorry. What they are doing…it's cruel.”
I swallow. “It will pass.”
He leans against the desk beside mine, crossing his arms. “This office is not one to let go of gossip. It devours the weak. Trust me.”
I stiffen. “Im not weak.”
He smiled, like he knew I was going to say that. “Gosh, because the boss? He is not as innocent as you think.”
I looked at him puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“He has a history.” Daniel says “Assistants, interns. People who get too close to him tend to disappear.”
A cold ripple runs down my spine. “Disappear how?”
He shrugs lightly. “Terminations, transfers,” he looks around, then lowers his voice. “Some even have mental breakdowns. None has been confirmed but rumors don’t start from nowhere.”
My throat tightens. “I was never close to him. This is all fake.”
“I know,” he says gently. “But the truth doesn’t matter here.”
It’s the second time I’m hearing those words today, and they burn more each time I hear it.
His gaze softens. “If you ever need someone to talk to…or help navigate this place, I’m around.”
Before I can respond, he gives me one last knowing look and walks away.
I sink into my chair, heart pounding.
Why did he say that?
Why does he know so much?
Why does it feel like he knows something I don’t?
^^^^^^^^^^^^^
On my way home, the subway feels too bright, too loud. Then my phone buzzes in my hand.
Unknown number: Walk away before you’re ruined like the last one.
My stomach drops.
I look around instinctively but everyone is minding their business. No one is watching me. Or maybe they’re just better at hiding it.
I type back: Who is this?
But no response came.
I shove my phone into my pocket, pulse racing.
The last one? Who was the last one?
When I reach the apartment, Arianna is still at work, so I sit on the couch and open my laptop. If someone thinks I’m “the next one,” then there has to be a first.
I access the old employee archives. It takes time, but I finally found it.
A former assistant named Clara Hastings. Her contract with the company was terminated abruptly two years ago.
The reason was Ethical Misconduct.
There were no details, no report. Just a simple statement.
Her employment timeline ends in a single line.
I scroll further, digging for anything—an email, a note, a record. After thirty minutes of searching, I freeze.
It was her last email sent.
It wasn’t to HR or the legal team.
It was to the boss, Justin Stonebridge.
My blood runs cold.
Why would her last email be to him?
What happened to her?
And why does no one talk about it?
Before I can click the attachment, the screen flickers, then suddenly boots me out of the archive with an “Access Denied” warning.
Someone knows I was searching.
My heart thunders in my chest as a single thought slams into me:
Whatever happened to Clara…
I'm next.
- Writer
