Chapter 654
654:
She couldn’t even find someone to vent her anger on properly.
At that moment, the elevator chimed softly, and the doors parted. Ethan, Brenna, and Patrick emerged side by side. Patrick strolled between them, clutching their hands. They looked like a family of three.
The sight made Minna’s blood boil.
Ethan turned to Brenna, his voice calm. “So, have you picked a floor yet?”
Brenna’s and Minna’s eyes locked for a split second—Minna’s brimming with malice, Brenna’s calm. With an easy shrug, Brenna answered, “Either works. I’ll choose the 58th floor.”
Ethan flashed a warm grin. “Why don’t you move your office up to the 99th floor? We could work side by side.”
Brenna arched an eyebrow, cutting him a sideways glance. “If we’re stuck together 24/7, we’ll be sick of each other in no time. A little space’s probably better.”
The three of them stepped out of the elevator. Brenna swept her gaze over the layout, already rearranging furniture in her head and mapping out her ideal setup.
Right at that moment, Brenna’s phone rang. She walked toward the window to answer the call.
Seizing the chance, Minna sprang into action. She hobbled toward Ethan with exaggerated effort, groaning theatrically, “Mr. Mitchell, I twisted my ankle. It hurts so much.”
She had been through military training and had pushed through worse injuries without flinching. But this wasn’t about pain; it was about pride and persistence. Men like Ethan didn’t come around twice, and she wanted to try her best to win his heart.
Before Ethan could respond, Patrick tugged at his sleeve and looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. “If she’s really hurt,” he said loudly, “shouldn’t she go to the hospital or something? Why’s she coming to you for help?”
His words stabbed through the air with brutal clarity. Minna’s cheeks flushed a deep red, humiliation boiling beneath her skin. It was bad enough to be ridiculed by her colleagues, but now, even a little kid had the nerve to mock her?
𝘿𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙥𝙞𝙚𝙨 — 𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 𝙖𝙩 𝙜ⲁ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀﹒𝗰𝗈𝗺
She shot Patrick a sharp glare. But as she really took him in—his perfectly styled hair, his expensive little outfit—a bold, ridiculous thought gripped her. Was this kid Ethan’s illegitimate son?
Thinking that, she held back from scolding Patrick.
“Mr. Mitchell, please help me,” she said, her voice cracking with desperation. “My ankle really hurts.”
Ethan didn’t so much as glance her way. Instead, he replied to Patrick’s earlier question with lazy indifference, “She is a secretary who pulled strings to get into the company. Now she’s trying to throw herself at me.”
He said that so bluntly, not caring that Minna was within earshot.
He was clearly humiliating her.
Minna’s cheeks flamed. She halted just a few steps away from Ethan, stricken by humiliation.
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