Chapter 1892
No.1
His furious shouts echoed down the hallway: "Blind? This is what Evelyn looks like? This ugly? How dare you let this trash in! I demand a room change!"
Melissa stared at her impeccably made-up reflection in the restroom mirror, trembling.
Evelyn was beautiful, but she considered herself no less. Why did Julian and Lance treat Evelyn like treasure while dismissing her as dirt?
She bit her lip hard to stifle the sobs.
Thirty minutes later, composed enough to leave, she froze at the sight awaiting her at the corridor's end...
......
Sweat slicked Melissa's palms in the elevator.
No.2
Head down, she hurried out—only to collide with someone.
"Ah!" Her ankle twisted in the stilettos, nearly sending her sprawling.
Steadying hands caught her.
"Melissa?" Evelyn's voice turned her rigid.
Melissa righted herself with forced calm. "Shouldn't you be home resting, with your... condition?"
"Was my resignation approved?" Evelyn countered.
"Check yourself!" Melissa spat.
No.3
As if she'd approve it. The rejection had been issued long ago.
This was pure mockery.
Melissa stalked off.
Evelyn remained, slowly uncurling her palm—where a tiny camera taken from Melissa's person lay.
To miss something so crucial...
Whatever it captured must be explosive indeed.
Melissa Lee's fingers trembled slightly.
No.4
Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the steering wheel. Neon lights outside the car window blurred into streaks, mirroring her chaotic thoughts.
As a reporter for Horizon Media's financial department, she should have been accustomed to high-stakes situations. But only she knew how she'd gotten this position.
Her admission to Imperial Media University was secured through her father's connections. The graduate school spot was bought with family favors. Even this job was obtained by riding on the Ashford family's coattails.
Her phone screen lit up. Taking a deep breath, she sent out the blurry photo.
[Lance, guess what I captured?]
Three minutes later, her phone rang.
"What do you want?" Lance Yeager's voice was icy.
No.5
Melissa smirked. "Simple. I want Winston Strauss's exclusive interview."
A cold laugh came through the receiver.
"With just a blurry photo?"
"Of course not." Confidence dripped from her words. "The camera holds much more interesting footage."
After hanging up, she eagerly rummaged through her bag for the micro camera. It was Horizon Media's standard equipment, which she'd brought specifically to...
"It's gone?"
Her face drained of color.
No.6
The phone rang again.
"Miss Lee," Lance's mocking tone cut through. "I'm waiting in the hotel lobby with the agreement."
Melissa forced composure. "I'll be right there."
The receptionist handed her a familiar black device. "Is this your missing camera?"
She grabbed it like a lifeline, not bothering to check the contents.
The elevator ascended to the penthouse. Lance stood silhouetted against the floor-to-ceiling windows, his backlit figure ominous.
"Did you bring it?"
No.7
Melissa raised the camera. "Everything's here."
Her fingers froze the moment she entered the password—
The storage was completely empty.
Lance leisurely tore the agreement to shreds. Paper snowflakes fluttered to the ground.
"Miss Lee," he leaned in menacingly, "next time you try blackmail, make sure your evidence still exists."
Melissa staggered back, knocking over a coffee table. The shattering glass mirrored her crumbling confidence.