Chapter 148 Watchdog
The morning sun shone through the curtains, but Bridget didn’t notice. She sat on the edge of her bed, her phone in hand, her eyes glued to the screen.
Every picture of Anabelle smiling at her new company made her stomach twist with anger. The woman she had once looked down on was now rising higher than anyone expected.
Bridget’s lips tightened. She opened her laptop and typed Anabelle’s name into the search bar.
Dozens of results appeared — company press releases, photos from corporate events, even small articles praising her leadership. Bridget read every word, her anger growing with each line.
“So,” she murmured bitterly, “she’s finally getting her moment.” Her reflection in the dark laptop screen looked hard, unfamiliar.
She leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping slowly against the desk. For weeks, she had been watching Anabelle — not directly, but through every possible source she could find.
She had followed her company’s social media page, checked tagged posts, and even reached out to people who had worked with her before.
One of them was Marissa, a woman Bridget had met at a networking dinner months ago. Marissa worked in HR at the very company where Anabelle had just been promoted.
Bridget had been careful when she called her the night before. Her tone was friendly, curious, and patient.
“I heard someone from your company got a big promotion,” Bridget had said sweetly. “Anabelle, right? I think I know her from before.”
Marissa had hesitated. “Oh, yes. She’s doing very well. Everyone respects her,” she said politely.
Bridget had smiled, even though Marissa couldn’t see it. “Of course. She’s always been… determined. But tell me, was the promotion planned? It happened so fast.”
Marissa had laughed lightly. “Well, she’s talented. And she used to work with Carson, didn’t she? Maybe that helped her network a bit.”
That was all Bridget needed. A small, simple line — but it was enough to light a fire in her chest.
Now, as she closed her laptop, she already knew what she wanted to do.
When she arrived at the company that morning, she wore a calm expression, as if nothing was wrong. Her heels clicked against the marble floor as she entered the lobby. She walked past the reception desk, smiling faintly at the workers who greeted her.
But her eyes — her eyes were searching.
She knew Anabelle’s new office was on the top floor, next to the executives’ wing. She had learned that days ago, after quietly checking the company’s staff directory online. She had memorized the details like a hunter learning her prey’s path.
Bridget took the elevator up, pretending to be there for a meeting. When the doors opened, she stepped out slowly, looking around.
Through the clear glass wall ahead, she saw her — Anabelle — seated at her desk, focused and graceful, her assistant beside her, handing her documents. Bridget watched for a few seconds, her chest tight.
That same woman, the one she had seen years ago with Carson, now looked stronger than ever. It made Bridget’s anger burn hotter.
She turned away before anyone noticed her and walked toward the corner of the hallway, where Marissa was talking to a colleague. Bridget smiled and joined them, her tone light and pleasant.
“Busy day?” she asked.
Marissa smiled. “Always. I didn’t know you’d be visiting.”
“Oh, just checking in on a few things,” Bridget said smoothly. She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Tell me, how’s the new manager doing? Anabelle, right?”
Marissa blinked. “Oh—she’s fine. Everyone seems to like her.”
Bridget’s eyes gleamed slightly. “Seems to? Hmm.” She let out a small, knowing laugh. “You know how these promotions can be. Some people climb fast, too fast. It makes people talk.”
Marissa frowned a little. “Talk?”
“Oh, nothing serious,” Bridget said quickly, smiling again. “Just the usual — you know, connections, favors, that sort of thing. I’m sure she earned it, of course.”
She said it like she meant it, but her tone left doubt behind like smoke in the air.
Later, Bridget watched from a distance as Marissa went to the staff lounge, where two other employees were chatting. Within minutes, she saw the quiet exchange — curious glances, small whispers. The seed was already spreading.
By afternoon, Bridget had returned to her own office. She sat by the window, legs crossed, looking satisfied. She hadn’t raised her voice or sent any messages. She didn’t need to. All she had to do was let curiosity do the rest.
The next day, she came back and walked through the company halls again, pretending to review project files. She noticed how people greeted Anabelle differently now — polite, but distant. She saw how the laughter faded when Anabelle entered the room.
It was working.
Anabelle, unaware of the full truth, could still feel the shift. She felt the silence that followed her steps, the strange looks she received, the tension that filled every corner of her day.
When she handed a report to one of her team members, the young man hesitated before taking it. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said quickly, avoiding her eyes.
Anabelle frowned slightly but said nothing.
By the end of the day, she sat in her office, looking out the window. The city lights glowed, distant and cold. She didn’t understand what had changed — only that something had.
Meanwhile, Bridget watched from the far end of the hallway, her lips curling into a faint smile. She had stayed long enough to see Anabelle through the glass, her posture stiff, her face thoughtful.
For a moment, Bridget tilted her head. “You look tired already,” she whispered under her breath.
She turned and walked away, her heels echoing softly against the floor. Each step felt calm, deliberate. Her revenge didn’t need to be loud. It only needed to be smart.
Outside, the evening wind brushed against her as she got into her car. She sat for a moment, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes looked darker, colder.
“She took everything,” she muttered softly. “Now she’ll learn what it feels like to lose.”
As she started the engine, a faint smirk appeared on her lips. Her plan had only begun — the whispers, the doubt, the subtle cracks in Anabelle’s perfect image.
She would keep watching, waiting for the moment when everything started to crumble.
And when that moment came, Bridget promised herself she would be there — calm, composed, and smiling — while Anabelle’s world slowly fell apart.