He Stole My 600 Drafts For His Mistress, I Won The World Cup Star Exclusive

Chapter 4

I wiped away my tears, picked up my three trophies, and set them upright on the top of the cabinet.

Then, I began unpacking my clothes, hanging them back up one by one.

Michael let out a long sigh of relief, a smile breaking across his face. "Laura, you're staying after all? I knew you'd understand me."

I turned slightly, dodging his outstretched hand, and spoke in a voice thoroughly stripped of warmth. "I am staying."

I pulled out Michael's scattered belongings and shoved them haphazardly into his small suitcase.

There really was not much that actually belonged to him.

Pushing both Sarah and Michael out the doorway, I pitched his suitcase into the hallway.

Meeting his thunderous stare, I let out a dry, contemptuous laugh.

"I changed my mind. I am the one paying the rent here, so you two are the ones who need to clear out."

With a sharp slam, I threw the door shut, locking the two of them outside.

Sarah's piercing scream was quickly stifled by Michael's harsh reprimand, dissolving into a stream of pathetic, muffled sniffling.

The doorbell rang again, insistent and loud.

I ignored it entirely.

Michael did not last long out there, departing shortly after with Sarah in tow.

I let out a cold, mocking chuckle.

Thinking back to all the sweet, tender promises he used to make me, I felt nothing but utter disgust.

The next morning, I walked into the newspaper office to hand in my resignation.

The HR manager looked at me with an uncomfortable, pained expression. "Oh, Laura, I am afraid I can't process your paperwork."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my brows furrowing, though I already had a sneaking suspicion.

"It is on the chief editor's orders," he explained carefully. "Mr. Ashton says you still have unfinished work to hand over, so he forbade me from stamping your release forms."

Understanding the situation instantly, I packed up my documents and marched straight toward Michael's office.

He did not even bother to hide his intentions.

After being kicked out of my place last night, he was clearly humiliated and determined to get his petty revenge.

"Laura, if you want to quit, fine," he leaned back, looking up at me. "But you must hand over your exclusive World Cup interview slot first."