Chapter 816: Clara’s Ruse

Susan knocked, but received no answer. Frowning, she checked the time; it was still within office hours. Gritting her teeth, she opened the door and entered the spacious, empty room. Manuel had left early—unusual for him. His absence, however, was fortunate; she could report to him tomorrow.

She spent the day preparing her report, leaving no time for other tasks. Turning to leave, she paused. A sound from a nearby cubicle caught her attention. She should leave; it wasn't her place to pry. Yet, unconsciously, she approached the cubicle door. She heard a woman's voice: "President, are you ready?" The urgent tone was familiar; she'd heard something similar in pornography. A wave of heartbreak washed over her; she stood frozen in the doorway.

"Oh… gently… it hurts…" the woman whispered. Recognizing the tone from pornography, Susan understood it as a tactic to arouse a man's possessiveness.

Trembling, Susan clutched her computer. Manuel, usually so reserved, was having sex in his office? She wanted to see them, to witness their intimacy. Perhaps seeing them together would help her forget him, alleviate her pain.

She reached for the door handle, then withdrew her hand. She lacked the courage to witness Manuel's infidelity. She could only imagine the scene, unable to bring herself to intrude. Ignoring what she'd heard, she awkwardly left, hurrying so fast she nearly stumbled. As she closed the office door, the cubicle door opened, revealing Clara, still in her slim work suit, a cold smile playing on her lips. Manuel was gone, having left midday without explanation. Unmotivated to work, Clara had begun tidying his office. Hearing the knock, she'd recognized Susan and devised a plan: feigning intimacy with Manuel to hurt Susan and drive her away. It seemed to have worked; a smirk touched her lips as she contemplated her relationship with Manuel.

Meanwhile, Manuel was with Hannah. "The video's online; it'll stay up for at least two hours," he said.

"Excellent," Hannah replied. Two hours was ample time for it to go viral.

"Interview with Sarah tomorrow?" Manuel confirmed.

"Yes, with Northfield's most influential magazine."

"I've contacted them; the chief editor will interview her personally. The behind-the-scenes footage will be uploaded afterward," Manuel added, marveling at Hannah's ruthlessness in destroying Sarah's reputation.

"I'll check with Sarah again," Hannah said.

"She'll accept," Hannah assured him. "She craves admiration, success. She'll jump at the chance."

Manuel nodded, recognizing Hannah's insight into Sarah's motivations.

"I'll invite reporters," Manuel said. "You just watch the news."

"Thanks."

"To be honest… I should thank you," Manuel said.

Hannah was puzzled. Manuel pressed his lips together. "You'll understand later."

Hannah didn't press him. She didn't care; she was content with her life.

Manuel rose to leave. Hannah didn't urge him to stay.

"My cousin's returning in a week."

Hannah looked at him.

"Just letting you know. No hidden meaning. I didn't tell him about today."

"Got it," Hannah responded indifferently.

Manuel left. While driving, his mother called. "Mum."

"Working late?" Justine asked, knowing his demanding schedule.

"No," Manuel replied. It was quitting time, and he had other matters to attend to.

"Dinner? Haven't seen you in ages," Justine said.

"Okay," Manuel agreed, figuring dinner wouldn't take too long. "Where are you? I'll pick you up."

"Hospital. Come now."

"Is Edward better?" Manuel asked.

"No. If he were, I wouldn't be here daily."

Manuel remained silent.

"Drive carefully. Come now."

"Okay," Manuel said, hanging up.

Justine then called another number. "Susan?"

Susan said nothing, sensing trouble. Justine's call felt ominous.

"Dinner tonight?" Justine asked abruptly.

"I'm at work."

"Stop working."

"How dare you?" Susan protested, confused and angered by Manuel and Justine's actions.

"I've cared for your father. Dinner's the least you can do," Justine insisted.

Susan, unable to refuse, reluctantly agreed. "Where?"

"The X restaurant, 68th floor."

Susan winced; it was expensive. "Fine."

"Seven o'clock. Don't be late."

"I know," Susan snapped. Hanging up, she abandoned work, feeling drained. Going to the bathroom to freshen up, she was startled by her reflection—red, puffy eyes.