They Mocked Me, I Exposed Their Secrets

Chapter 3

When I got home, I didn't even turn on the lights. I groped my way to the bedroom in the dark and sank down onto the edge of the bed.

My mind was spinning so fast I could barely think straight.

I pulled open the drawer of the nightstand and dug out a thick photo album from the very bottom.

It held records of every little moment Wesley and I had shared over the past two years.

There was the shot of him bending down to tie my shoelace.

There was the photo of us laughing as we ate barbecue at a roadside stall, and a profile shot of him holding a bubble tea, waiting for me to get off work outside my office building.

Looking at these vivid scenes, the past flooded back to me bit by bit, and I couldn't help feeling a sharp twinge of emotion.

I flipped to the last page.

On the blank inner page, a line of red text jumped out at me.

Record every little moment of the two of you.

My heart skipped a beat, and I quietly closed the album.

I sat there with my eyes open until dawn that night.

The next morning, I don't know what kept me going long enough to drag myself to the office.

Maybe it was the stubbornness in my bones. I didn't want all the people waiting to gawk at my misfortune to think I'd been broken.

I had just stepped through the office area entrance.

The low murmur of conversation that had filled the room died away completely.

Everyone turned their heads to look at me in unison.

Their eyes were full of contempt, mockery, and schadenfreude.

Even the cleaner deliberately spat near my feet while she was mopping the floor.

Audrey clinked her water cup down on the table.

"Oh my, some people really have nerves of steel, huh? If it were me, and I'd been caught red-handed seducing someone else's boyfriend, I'd have bashed my head against the wall and killed myself long ago."

Georgia chimed in with a snide tone. "She's only in it for the money, after all. What's pride compared to that?"

I walked to my desk, pulled out the chair, and sat down.

Before I even had time to turn on the computer, the intercom phone on my desk rang.

Human Resources was notifying me to go to the director's office.

I pushed the door open. Mr. Winslow was holding a thermos and drinking tea, not even glancing at me.

"Daphne, the company values its employees' personal moral character very highly. The vicious rumor about you interfering in someone else's relationship has spread through every company group chat today. So submit your resignation letter voluntarily. It'll save everyone the awkwardness."

I stared at him coldly. "I can leave, sure. But according to labor law, if you terminate an employee without cause, you have to pay a severance fee. If you're even one cent short, I'll go to the labor bureau and apply for arbitration. And while I'm at it, I'll take the client data I have and go to the tax bureau to look into all those company accounts from last year."

Mr. Winslow's face turned livid. He pointed at me, unable to get a word out for ages. "Fine! You're ruthless!"

I turned around and walked out of the office.

I had just gotten back to my desk when notification sounds from my phone beeped one after another.

It was a chat message from Graham in the Technology Department.

Graham had pestered me relentlessly to go out with him a couple of years ago, but I turned him down.

Right now, his chat messages were popping up.

Graham: Daphne, I never would have pegged you as such a freak behind closed doors? You'd even go after your best friend's man? Lucky I never got mixed up with a cheap skank who throws herself at men to be a homewrecker, or I'd have felt like I dirtied my own hands just touching you!

My blood boiled as I stared at the cellphone screen, and I quickly typed out a reply and hit send.

Daphne: Graham, last month you took on outside freelance contract work, and you used the company's server to run the data for it. And you embezzled the department's activity budget to cover your in-game purchases. Do you want me to post the evidence in the company-wide group chat?

Less than ten seconds after I sent the message, Graham quickly unsent all the abusive messages he had sent me.

He sent a groveling apology, and I blocked him immediately.

I had just set my phone face down on the desk when Margot sashayed over to my workstation, swaying her hips.

She was clutching her stomach in an absurdly dramatic gesture, a fake, concerned look plastered across her face.

"Daphne, don't be like this. I know you must be feeling absolutely terrible right now. Wesley was just being an i***t to mess with you. As his woman, I want to apologize to you on his behalf."