Chapter 162

 162:
“I’m feeling much better now,” she said, keeping her voice steady.
Coen gave a small nod. “Good. Then head back to your desk and get some rest.” His tone was gentle, almost careful.
As soon as she settled into her chair, a few coworkers inched closer, their curiosity barely concealed. One of them finally asked, “Linsey, why is Coen being so… nice to you? We thought—”
The sentence trailed off, thick with unspoken questions. But Linsey knew what they meant. They weren’t just asking about Coen. They wanted to know why she still had a job.
Linsey met their prying eyes with a faint smile, effortlessly sidestepping the unspoken question. “I’m sure Coen has his reasons.” When it became clear she wouldn’t say more, their excitement withered into disappointment. They exchanged glances, their lips twisting in frustration at the lost gossip.
A short distance away, Cynthia watched, her nails biting into her palm. Not only had Linsey emerged unscathed, but Coen had openly shown her concern. The injustice of it burned in Cynthia’s chest, slow and simmering.
Beside her, a colleague hesitated before leaning in. “Cynthia, do you have any idea why Coen is treating Linsey like that?”
Cynthia’s jaw tightened. Her voice was sharp enough to cut. “Why?”
The colleague’s eyes gleamed with intrigue as they leaned in, lowering their voice. “Word is, Coen had dinner with Anthea last night, and she personally insisted that Linsey stay. That was why he didn’t push her out. Think about it—someone like Anthea? No way Coen would dare go against her.”
Cynthia’s breath hitched, disbelief flickering across her face.
Linsey, that lucky! Even now, Anthea was shielding her.
Cynthia inhaled sharply, her expression twisting with frustration.
𝐿𝒶t𝑒st chαptєrs in g𝓪lnovels.c𝑜𝑚
Meanwhile, Linsey shook off the whispers and headed to the conference room, determined to buckle down and finish the final product with her team.
During her lunch break, Linsey found her thoughts drifting back to Anthea standing up for her.
She hadn’t lied to Coen—since taking on Anthea’s design project, every conversation between them had been strictly business. Anthea was always poised, neither particularly warm nor distant. Their relationship was purely professional, the kind shared between a designer and a client.
Had she really intervened just because she admired Linsey’s work?
It wasn’t out of the question…
Then, out of nowhere, a different name surfaced in her mind—Collin. Could Collin have had a hand in this? He did mention that Anthea was an old friend of his mother’s.
Linsey turned the thought over in her mind, but no matter how she looked at it, the pieces didn’t quite fit.
In the end, she decided the only thing to do was thank Anthea directly. “Mrs. Blakely, I really appreciate you speaking up for me with Coen. Thank you for giving me the chance to stay.”
Ten long minutes passed before Anthea replied. Her message was brief, her tone as composed as ever. “I simply didn’t want to replace a designer at such a crucial point. Your work speaks for itself—otherwise, I wouldn’t have bothered.”
The words were almost identical to what Coen had told her.
Linsey responded with practiced politeness. “Of course, Mrs. Blakely. I’ll make sure to give it my all.”
For the rest of the day, she tuned out the nasty rumors circulating online and poured every ounce of her focus into her work.
.
.
.