Chapter 70

Chapter 70

Matilda's POV

Kerena looked down at me from above, her eyes - always lined with perfect eyeliner - now filled with undisguised mockery.

"Since you're so proud, preferring to be kicked out of Mr. Learmond's team rather than continue sleeping your way to benefits, then don't blame me... for seizing this opportunity."

She stepped closer, her perfumed breath hitting my face.

"Matilda, don't forget - it was you who hid it at first, refusing to admit you slept with him, that gave me my chance. So now, all the benefits and the position by Mr. Learmond's side are mine alone to enjoy. What do you call that? That's called knowing how to make smart choices."

I was shaking with anger.

"You're shameless!"

"Shameless?" Kerena's bright red lips curved into a mocking smile.

"Call me whatever you want, I don't care. Anyway, we'll see. Let's see who lasts longer in this building - you, the self-righteous former assistant, or me, staying by Mr. Learmond's side?"

As she finished speaking, she suddenly rammed her shoulder into me without warning.

I was already upset and holding a heavy box. Off balance, when she hit me, I cried out and stumbled backward several steps. The cardboard box flew from my hands, and the files, pen holder, and small plant inside scattered all over the floor with a crash.

I fell awkwardly onto the cold marble floor, a dull pain shooting through my old ankle injury.

Kerena didn't even glance at my pale face. She elegantly smoothed her perfectly styled hair, turned, and walked away on her high heels, swaying gracefully.

Leaving me alone, sitting embarrassingly on the floor, frantically gathering the scattered items.

I couldn't hold back the tears anymore. They fell in big drops, hitting my hands and splashing onto the scattered documents, quickly soaking the words on the paper.

Just as I was struggling to gather everything back into the now-cracked cardboard box, the frosted glass door not far away suddenly opened from inside.

I instinctively looked up.

Wellington walked out.

Through my tear-blurred vision, I saw his gaze sweep across the hallway, then naturally land on me.

My breathing stopped instantly, and my heart seemed to skip a beat.

Across a distance of several meters, through the blurry tears, we locked eyes.

His steps seemed to pause almost imperceptibly.

In the depths of those ice-blue eyes, something seemed to flash by quickly.

Surprise? Impatience? Annoyance? Or something else?

I couldn't tell.

But he didn't stop, didn't ask, didn't even furrow his brow.

He just calmly looked away, turned around, and strode toward the elevator with his long legs.

I remained frozen in my half-kneeling, half-sitting position until his footsteps completely faded away.

My tears flowed even harder.

See, Matilda, this is reality.

All those hints of warmth before, those late-night vigils, those uncontrolled embraces, and that flutter in my heart that day - they were all just a performance he put on when the mood struck him.

Now the curtain has fallen. He's still the high-and-mighty Wellington, and I'm just a toy he played with and then discarded because I wouldn't submit.

I sniffed hard and raised my arm, roughly wiping the tears from my face with my sleeve.

Stop crying, Matilda, don't cry!

I commanded myself fiercely in my mind.

He's not as good as you thought! He's just a fake, a jerk who likes playing with people's hearts!

Everything Kerena said was true! You're just one insignificant diversion among his many!

I forced myself to continue cleaning up.

Suddenly, my fingers touched a folder.

I pulled it out.

It was the guide Emily had given me when I first started - Mr. Learmond's Work Preferences and Rhythm Guide.

I used to read it over and over like it was the Bible.

Now, I didn't need it anymore.

I wiped my face roughly with my sleeve again, pushed myself up against the wall with effort, and threw that folder into the trash can.

After transferring to Charles's team, the work pace indeed slowed down noticeably.

Most of the work assigned to me was organizing past case files. It required attention to detail but lacked challenge.

Too calm, so calm it made me anxious.

I kept having this vague feeling that I was being marginalized, placed in an unimportant position where I could be kicked out at any moment.

Was I... really about to be fired?

This thought kept popping up like a ghost.

My mood was so troubled that after work one day, the emotions I'd suppressed all day finally reached their peak.

I declined Rhys's usual offer to drive me back to the villa, saying I wanted to walk around nearby and promising to call him immediately if anything happened. Only then did Rhys agree and drive away.

I wandered into a high-end shopping mall in the city center. The bright lights seemed to illuminate even the dark corners of my heart.

I walked slowly along the corridor with my head down.

I didn't have anything to buy; I just wanted to empty my mind.

But as I passed by a famous jewelry store, the corner of my eye suddenly caught a familiar figure.

It was Wellington.

A brunette woman stood beside him, wearing a sharply tailored burgundy dress, her makeup exquisite and bright. She was looking up at Wellington with a smile, saying something, her posture particularly intimate.

Wellington tilted his head, listening to her, his expression more relaxed than I'd ever seen.

Standing together, they were a perfect match, like a couple made for each other.

I jerked my gaze away as if burned, my heart racing, my hands and feet ice cold.

Kerena's words exploded in my ears again: "He never lacks women around him..."

So it was true.

I didn't want to think about those chaotic scenes from the past anymore. I turned to flee this place in panic.

But just as I hurriedly turned around, a janitor pushing a cleaning cart rushed out.

"Watch out!"

I turned to dodge, but it was too late. I still crashed heavily into the cart.

The cart shook, the bucket on top tipped over, and the murky, dirty water inside instantly splashed out, drenching half my body.

I stumbled backward, my feet suddenly slipping.

This time, I fell hard, landing on my butt, my elbow also hitting the ground with a burning pain.

The dirty water soaked the hem of my dress, and my hair was drenched like a drowned rat. I was a complete mess.

The loud noise immediately drew attention from people around, and many eyes turned toward me.

My face burned red. I wished I could dig a hole and crawl into it right then.

I tried frantically to get up. But the floor was covered in water, slippery everywhere. I had just pushed myself up a little with my hands when my feet slipped again, and I fell back down.

Just as I was burning with shame, a clean, slender hand extended before me.