"Dixie, I love my wife and kids. No matter how daring you get, I’ll never fall for your advances," Declan grumbled, sprawled across the floor, rubbing his backside with one hand. At the same time, his other hand slammed into the ground in irritation.

“You’re young, with your whole life ahead of you. Why cling to an old man like me?” He continued, his voice dripping with disapproval. “I’ve put up with your flirtatious messages, but today you crossed the line. Grabbing my hand and trying to pull it under your clothes, when I refused, you resorted to violence. How did a sweet girl like you end up acting like this?”

I never imagined that Declan would be such a master of deception, weaving one lie after another with such skill. His every word and expression seemed so believable that it was hard to tell where the truth ended, and the deceit began.

My colleagues, charmed by Declan's show, couldn’t help but gossip behind my back.

“She just graduated, yet she's already flaunting a designer bag worth a fortune. And getting picked up in luxury cars? Told you she was no ordinary girl.”

“Maybe she’s just from a wealthy family. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“Rich girls don’t have a new guy chauffeuring them every day. She’s probably keeping a few ‘goldfish’ on the side.”

“And Declan’s not even loaded. Guess she’s getting desperate.”

The comments kept coming, each one driving another nail into my coffin of humiliation.

Frustration bubbled up inside me, and I couldn’t hold back. “Stop swallowing his one-sided story! He’s the one who harassed me. There are cameras in the break room, check the footage, and you’ll see the truth!”

Rather than standing by me, my colleagues merely laughed from the sidelines, their mocking glances as biting as their words. Just as I felt myself drowning in frustration, Skylar White, a teammate, rushed over and gripped my arm, whispering urgently, “The break room cameras? They’re fake, just cheap plastic props to scare off thieves.”

I stared at her, utterly stunned, my disbelief clear.

Declan rose, brushing off his clothes and adjusting his glasses with calculated ease, before adding, “I told you on your first day that the break room cameras were just for show. Who would’ve thought you’d be bold enough to exploit that little detail and pull a stunt like this in the company?”

“Since you’re still young and perhaps didn’t know any better, I’ll overlook this one. Let’s not involve management and instead let this be a learning moment. We should all give her a chance.”

With a dismissive wave, he sent everyone back to their workstations.

As he turned to leave, he cast a sideways glance at me, a frigid, taunting smile playing on his lips.

Clearly, he feared any slip that might reveal his deceit, and so he dispersed the crowd. But I was left with no power, forced to bury my anger and suffer the indignity in silence.

Noticing my frustration, Skylar gave my shoulder a gentle pat, her sigh full of sympathy. “Dixie, don’t waste your energy fighting him. Just let it slide.”

Hearing her tone, I sensed she understood the truth. “You believe me?”

“It’s not about believing you,” she replied coolly. “I just don’t trust a single word that spills out of Declan’s mouth.”

I looked at her, confusion clouding my face, and she took her time, carefully laying out the situation.

“He once invited me for a late-night drink,” she began, frustration lacing her words. “When I turned him down, he shoved all the dirty, back-breaking tasks onto me and started spreading rumors about my so-called incompetence. Every month, he gives me a ‘C’ rating, so after more than six months here, I’m still nowhere near a promotion.”

“Didn’t you report him to management?” I asked.

“It’s no use. The HR director, Fergus Clark, is his uncle; they’ve got each other’s backs,” she retorted.

"The girl who held your position before was named Tessa. We started here at the same time, but when she reported Declan's behavior to HR, they fired her without a single explanation the very next day."

I scoffed, “Good riddance to that place! Who’d want to stay in such a toxic environment?”

Skylar shook her head, continuing, “It wasn’t that simple. After she was fired, Tessa tried to apply to other companies in the same field. Still, each time they ran a background check, Declan slandered her, piling on false accusations. In the end, the only work she could find was in a coffee shop, doing odd jobs.”

“As far as I know, Tessa didn’t come from a wealthy family,” Skylar murmured. “Her parents were both disabled, and she had to rely on scholarships and social assistance just to get through school.”

Just as she finished speaking, Declan appeared in the break room doorway, his voice sharp. “Skylar, where are the 500 promotional flyers I asked for? Make sure they’re printed by 4 p.m. and delivered to the storage room on the tenth floor. If you don’t finish, you’ll be staying late.”

Under Declan’s biting command, Skylar hurried off to complete the task, leaving me alone with him, locked in a silent, searing stare. His gaze was taunting, while I, brimming with rage, wanted nothing more than to tear him apart.

In this unfair world, where it was already an uphill battle for women to secure decent jobs, people like Declan poisoned the path for hard-working, talented women. Anger simmered within me.

Once I was home from work, I went straight to Hunter’s room and spoke with authority. "Tell your headhunter to head to Artemis Coffee Shop tomorrow and find a girl named Tessa. Get her a position in the publicity department, level P3 or above, and make sure her salary is at least ten thousand. Handle everything else however you see fit."

Hunter was in the middle of a video meeting when his eyes flicked up to mine, his face a mix of surprise and confusion.

Even with the bewilderment lingering in his gaze, he didn’t skip a beat.

Without hesitation, he raised his hand in a sharp motion, flashing me a confident "OK" sign.

A sense of satisfaction settled over me as I made my way to my room. The door clicked shut behind me, and just as I let out a breath, my phone buzzed with a message from Declan. [I want to see a beauty.]

He was slick, quickly retracting the message, likely to avoid any screenshots. A video call request popped up not a moment later, which I rejected with such force that I nearly jabbed the screen in frustration.

Declan sent another message. [Scorpios are truly ruthless. I’m honestly scared you’ll eat me alive.]

I slammed my fingers against the keyboard, fury coursing through me. [Don’t worry. I don’t eat garbage!!]

Dad noticed the tension in my expression and asked with a hint of concern, "Dixie, Carlo mentioned you seemed upset when you left work. Was it because I didn’t come to pick you up today?"

Since my graduation, Dad had been urging me to step into the family business, but my pride stood in the way. I was determined to carve my own path.

With a job finally secured, Dad and my brother’s concerns about my driving still lingered. They wouldn’t hear of me taking the subway or bus, stubbornly insisting on driving me to and from work themselves.

Their busy lives often kept them from driving me around, so occasionally, their driver would fill in. That was how I ended up with a different man picking me up every day.

That’s when the idea struck me. Since Declan believed I thrived off men, thinking he might be next in line, why not let him chase that fleeting hope?

Letting go of my usual tough, independent act, I softened my voice. I asked sweetly, “Dad, could you take me to work in your favorite car tomorrow?”

Dad raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard. “Wait, wasn’t Miss Low-Profile just talking about keeping things low-key? And now you’re after my prized car?”

I shifted back into full-on boss mode, my tone sharp. “So, are you going to agree or not? If not, I’ll take the bus to work tomorrow!”

“Alright, alright, who could possibly say no to my darling girl?”

The next morning, Dad took the wheel of his Maserati, driving me to the office with his usual flair.

As soon as the car rolled to a stop, I caught sight of Declan lurking in an alley, casually munching on a sandwich. He looked like he’d been camped out there for a while, waiting to snap photos for his “evidence” collection.

Pretending I hadn’t seen him, I leaned over and kissed Dad’s cheek, then hugged him tightly, my arms slipping around his neck. Sitting stiffly in the driver’s seat, Dad wore a blend of confusion and concern. “Dixie, if work’s making you miserable, just quit. Don’t push yourself until you’re ill.”

I pulled back with a grin. “Smile, and make it look natural! No disgusted faces! And when I get out, don’t forget to say a heartfelt goodbye, or I swear, I’ll never let you drive me again!”

Under the pressure of my threats and persuasion, Dad finally relented. I made sure to play the part, acting shy and playful, as I slipped out of the car and waved him goodbye.

The reverse psychology worked like a charm. I hadn’t even reached the office doors when Declan appeared.

My reverse psychology worked like a charm. Before I even reached the office entrance, Declan was already hot on my heels, rushing to catch up.

Matching my stride, he let out a snort and muttered, “Dixie, really? You’ve got no standards if you’re going for an old guy like that.”

I came to a sudden halt, pivoted, and flashed Declan a smile, a touch of flirtation dancing in my eyes. “Supervisor Wright, if you can drive a luxury car worth over a million, who’s to say there couldn’t be something between us?”

With that, I spun around, tossing my bag over my shoulder, letting it swing and smack him square in the face.

At that moment, Declan was so lost in the fantasy I’d spun that he didn’t even notice the pain.

As soon as I stepped into the office, Declan wasted no time trying to win favor. He thrust a black plastic bag into my hands, glancing over his shoulder like a child caught stealing. “Shh, only you deserve this,” he whispered.

I fought back the urge to gag at the sight of his greasy, bloated face. Suppressing a shudder, I tore open the bag to reveal a hideous Barbie-pink handbag with an elaborate gold LV logo plastered in the center.

He lowered his voice, clearly proud of himself. “This is a branded item. I spent tens of thousands on it.”

Even the cleaning lady could have sworn it was a cheap knockoff, no more than $2.99 on the street.

I swallowed the urge to roll my eyes, masking my disgust with a bright, exaggerated smile.

“Oh! An LV! Supervisor, you really shouldn’t have such generosity! What if your wife finds out?” I added, loud enough for anyone to hear.

My voice sliced through the room, drawing every eye in my direction. Declan stood there, his composure cracking, flustered, and clearly uncomfortable.

A few of my more curious colleagues couldn’t help but snatch the bag from my hands for a closer look. With their good taste, they spotted the cheap knockoff with a single glance. But, fearing any offense to Declan, they kept their thoughts to themselves. Instead, they exchanged knowing looks, their smiles a silent exchange.

Sensing the shift in the room, Declan grabbed the bag back, mumbling defensively, “It’s for my wife. I just wanted you to take a look. Don’t flatter yourself.”

With a hasty retreat to his office, Declan left the room in a wave of suppressed laughter.

Yet, a little shame wasn’t enough to stop him. The moment I stepped into the break room, Declan slid in behind me, moving like a shadow.

Pretending to be absorbed in making coffee, I could see his reflection inching closer, the air thickening with his anticipation. Just as his hands reached for me, I whipped around, splashing the hot coffee straight into his chest.

The scalding coffee splashed across him, soaking him from head to toe, and a sharp squeal echoed through the room.

"Oh my! Supervisor Wright, I was just trying to make coffee. Why did you have to get so close?" I put on my most innocent, panicked expression, playing the part to perfection.

Declan, his mask finally slipping away, snarled with open disdain. "Dixie, stop being so ungrateful. You should be thankful I'm even interested in you!"

He leaned in closer, his words dripping with arrogance. "Your body will be mine eventually. What’s wrong with a little hug now?"

The eavesdropping colleagues quickly gathered around, just in time to hear Declan's audacious words. They exchanged wary glances but remained silent, not daring to speak up.

Sensing the weight of their stares, Declan turned sharply, scanning the room. The crowd scattered like mice, rushing back to their workstations.

Seizing the opportunity, I masked my triumphant smile, softening my tone and lowering my gaze. “Supervisor, I truly didn’t mean it. You’re the bigger person here; please forgive me just this once,” I pleaded.

I tossed him a playful wink, knowing it was a bit stiff and awkward, but it did the trick. His stormy expression softened, replaced by a beaming smile as he scrambled to cheer me up.

Walking out of the break room, I caught the glances of my colleagues, their eyes now lingering on Declan in a way that spoke volumes. Something had shifted in their perception.