When Loyalty Turns to Ash

"Mr. Pryor, Elara, I was worried you'd get bored waiting for the food, so I ordered ahead. See if they're to your liking?"

I glanced at Jace, but he went straight to sit beside her instead, smiling as he said, "Sadie felt bad for upsetting you and came to make amends. See? She's thoughtful like that."

Sadie poured me a glass of sake and lifted her cup toward me. "Elara, it's my fault for messing up the data and dragging you into all that gossip—you know what? I'll just drink this as an apology."

She downed it in one gulp, her cheeks turning pink, making her look even more delicate and charming. Jace gave her an approving glance before asking casually, "People were gossiping about Elara? What were they saying?"

Sadie pressed her lips together, smiling faintly. "It's better if you ask Elara yourself, Mr. Pryor. I really shouldn't repeat it."

Jace turned to me then, curiosity flickering in his eyes. I met his gaze evenly. "Your employees called me the old crow."

He didn't even blink before laughing outright. "Sadie was just teasing you, trying to get acquainted. You actually took it seriously?"

Then he sized me up, smirking. "Though to be honest, it kind of fits you."

I stared at the face I'd known for eight years and suddenly felt like I was looking at a stranger. "Jace, do you really think that's funny? Hearing people call me the old crow—does that make you laugh?"

The air went still. Sadie made a show of standing up, her eyes glistening. "Mr. Pryor, am I making things awkward? I'll go. You two talk—"

"Sit down, Sadie." Jace pressed her back into her seat, then shot me a look of irritation. "Elara Stone, she apologized sincerely. Do you have to keep pushing? It's just a nickname. Do you really have to make such a big deal out of it?"

It felt as if a knife plunged straight into my chest. Watching his hand still resting on Sadie's wrist, I almost laughed at how ridiculous it all was. Eight years of trust and love—shattered in an instant.

"Wonderful," I said, forcing a smile. "Just wonderful."

I picked up the glass of sake Sadie had poured. "This apology—is too rich for me."

With that, I turned and walked out, not bothering to look back at their grim expressions.

…

The next day, I sent out some work emails, requesting the latest sales data for my presentation to the CEO, only to receive no reply. When I went in person, every answer was the same.

"Sorry, Ms. Laurent said Mr. Pryor needed those figures first."

"Sadie said Mr. Pryor hasn't reviewed them yet, so we can't give them to you."

"You should check with Sadie—we're following her instructions."

As I turned to leave, their mockery instantly returned.

"The old crow can puff up all she wants—she still needs us in the end."

"Should just call her the Yoga Pants Queen—high and mighty but still pathetic."

I called Jace immediately. No answer. The silence itself was a message—a deliberate humiliation.

So I went straight to his office—and stopped cold. Sadie was nestled in his arms, the two of them looking every bit as intimate as lovers.

When he saw me at the door, Jace's voice turned sharp. "Ever heard of knocking?"

I met his eyes coldly. "Mr. Pryor, I need the latest sales data for my report."

His brows furrowed. "Didn't I say I needed them first? What's the rush?"

He paused, then added, "Sadie's being meticulous and wants to go through everything again, lest you throw another tantrum over a small mistake."

"A small mistake?" I almost laughed. "Jace, her mistake directly affected the key data for a multimillion-dollar project."

May We Never Meet Again

I steadied my breath before speaking again. "So your idea of being meticulous is letting someone who can't even organize a report hold the core data hostage?"

Sadie's eyes immediately filled with tears. Her voice trembled, dripping with wounded innocence. "Elara, I know I'm not as smart as you, but I've really been trying my best…"

"It's not your fault, Sadie," Jace interrupted, slipping an arm around her shoulders. His voice softened tenderly, but when he turned toward me, his expression shifted—his eyes filled with irritation. "Elara, are you done? You nitpick over every little thing. Honestly, you're acting more and more like an old crow."

The word hit me like a slap. For a moment, I just stared at him, stunned.

He ignored the hurt on my face, his tone rising with every word. "Not only can't you do your job right, but you even constantly cause drama! Calling you an old crow is putting it lightly. Look at Sadie—so humble, so gentle. I'm saying this for your own good!"

Sadie leaned closer against him, a faintly smug smile tugging at her lips.

"Alright, Mr. Pryor, I understand. I'll handle the data myself." I turned to leave, and behind me came his low, coaxing voice. "Don't cry, Sadie. Don't let her get to you. She's just jealous—bitter, twisted inside."

The humiliation didn't end there—it only grew worse. Jace's indulgence became Sadie's shield and everyone else's permission slip. "Old crow" turned into an open joke, whispered—and sometimes not even whispered—through the office halls.

When I passed by a pair of new interns once, they smiled crookedly at me. Then, one of their whispers traveled to my ears. "Quick, the old crow's coming. Watch out, or she'll peck you."

"I heard there's a group chat just for her," the other replied, snickering. "Are you in it?"

"Not yet. Add me!"

Scenes like this played out nearly every day, and it finally came to a head during a major project presentation.

After my last report had disappointed the CEO, I had prepared meticulously this time—every number, every slide, flawless. But ten minutes before the meeting began, Jace walked in with Sadie.

"Sadie's been following this project closely," he said easily. "She'll present today—you can fill in where needed."

I stood up immediately. "Mr. Pryor, I've handled this project from start to finish. No one knows it better than I do."

He scoffed. "You do? Funny, I don't recall your last presentation impressing the boss."

Then he turned to Sadie with a look of encouragement. "Go ahead, Sadie. You're up."

She stepped forward, plugged in her USB drive, and began her presentation.

Jace nodded approvingly throughout, his face glowing with pride. I watched in silence, numb.

But as she switched windows on her computer, she accidentally opened the bottom corner of her screen. Her personal WhatsApp interface popped up and was instantly mirrored onto the large meeting screen for everyone to see.

At the top was a pinned group chat titled 'Old Crow Observation Diary.' Inside were photos of me—secretly taken around the office—and snide commentary.

'The old crow's at it again—yoga pants and coffee, what a classy lifestyle!'

'Please, she's been living off Mr. Pryor for eight years. I'd have dumped her ages ago.'

Even through the screen, I could almost taste Sadie's false modesty in her reply. 'You guys shouldn't talk about her like that.'

And right beneath it, Jace's name appeared. 'Stay away from the old crow, Sadie, lest she cause you trouble again.'

When I looked at Jace, he didn't even flinch. His face stayed calm, almost amused. Something in me went completely still. Eight years of loyalty and love—all of it, nothing but a joke.

Before the meeting even ended, I walked out and went straight to HR to hand in my resignation.

As I carried my box of things down the hallway, I ran right into Jace and Sadie, chatting happily. He glanced at me but said nothing.

'Farewell, Pryor,' I whispered to myself. 'May we never meet again.'