Chapter 33
33:
The lid popped off, and the dark coffee, swirled with frothy white foam, splattered across her clothes. The empty cup hit the floor with a sharp clatter.
The office went dead silent. Everyone stood frozen, eyes wide in disbelief.
Cynthia gasped theatrically, pressing a hand to her chest. “Oops! My hand slipped—total accident. Are you okay, Linsey? Should I buy you a new outfit? Honestly, that shirt of yours is practically falling apart. Why are you even still wearing it?”
Linsey met Cynthia’s gaze with an unreadable expression and said in an eerily calm voice, “It’s fine.”
Everyone assumed she would let it go—after all, Cynthia’s connections made her untouchable.
But without hesitation, Linsey grabbed every coffee cup in front of her and, in one fluid motion, overturned them onto Cynthia’s head.
A collective gasp echoed through the room.
The ice-cold coffee streamed down Cynthia’s hair, soaking her from head to toe.
Cynthia stood frozen, utterly shocked. When she finally snapped back to reality, she found herself soaked in coffee, her appearance thoroughly disheveled. “Linsey!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling with rage.
She had never imagined Linsey would lash out so brazenly.
Her cheeks burned with humiliation and fury as she stared at Linsey, teetering on the edge of an emotional collapse.
Today, of all days, she had chosen to wear her most elegant, professionally tailored outfit to make a strong impression at CR Corporation. Her hair was styled to perfection, and her makeup was meticulously applied—all of which was now ruined by Linsey.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Cynthia’s voice cracked as she roared, her eyes welling up with tears, not just of frustration but sheer indignation.
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The office fell into stunned silence, the colleagues’ eyes wide with disbelief. A few rushed over with tissues, dabbing gently at Cynthia’s face, trying to soothe the sting of coffee in her eyes. “Cynthia, please, wipe it away.”
“Linsey, what was that supposed to mean?” another colleague demanded, frowning deeply. Linsey stood there, an eerie calmness to her demeanor that bordered on unsettling.
“Cynthia claimed it was an accident. This reaction seems quite extreme,” one of them added.
Linsey hesitated no more and finally made her move. Her eyelids fluttered with feigned innocence as she murmured, “Me too. I was just as shocked when my own clothes were splashed, and before I knew it, I’d clumsily spilled my coffee just like she did.”
Her voice dripped with contrived sweetness, each word deliberately spaced as she bestowed a mock apologetic smile upon Cynthia. Her gaze locked onto Cynthia as she asked with fake concern, “Cynthia, are you alright?”
Cynthia’s breaths came in sharp, erratic bursts, her chest rising and falling with barely controlled fury. Her eyes sparked with an intense, scorching wrath, the kind that fantasized about wringing Linsey’s neck right then and there.
Cynthia had spent her entire life cocooned in comfort—adored at home and admired by everyone she met. The thought of being humiliated like this was beyond belief.
Internally, Cynthia hurled vile curses at Linsey, but the overt rage left her lips trembling, struggling to form coherent words.
Linsey, perceptive of Cynthia’s simmering anger, felt a perverse thrill at the sight.
Her smile widened, her eyes glinting with mock sympathy as she leisurely surveyed Cynthia’s ensemble. “Oh dear,” she drawled, feigning pity. “That outfit must have been quite the investment. Such a shame. A mere cup of coffee—worth just a few dollars—and yet it’s managed to ruin your beautiful attire. Perhaps, Cynthia, it might be wise to steer clear of coffee in the future, or you might end up destroying another exquisite piece by accident.”
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