Chapter 819: Escalation
The limousine pulled up to the Phillips Manor. Susan slept soundly. Manuel, about to wake her, hesitated. He noticed her hands resting on her belly, their delicacy striking him. He felt a pang of guilt; he’d heard about her long hours, wondered if he’d pushed her too hard. Yet, he reasoned, this rigorous training was necessary for her future independence, for her to eventually run Phillips Bank.
He reached out, his long fingers lightly touching her wrist. Susan's eyes snapped open, startled. She unconsciously swatted his hand away.
Only half-awake, she’d pretended sleep to avoid awkwardness. She hadn’t anticipated actually falling asleep, exhaustion from the day overcoming her. This startled awakening, however, left her momentarily disoriented. A little unhinged lately, she stammered, "I don't mean you're disgusting," a clumsy attempt to clarify her impulsive reaction. Her mind blanked; the words felt nonsensical even to her.
Manuel clenched his fist, his expression grim. Susan wished she could vanish. How could she articulate her turmoil? She blurted, "I fell asleep. I have no idea what I said. Sleep-talking." Her explanation felt flimsy. Manuel, however, remained impassive, unconvinced.
Flustered, she tried again, striving for calm, "I don't know why I want to lie down when I see you lately." She intended to explain her pretense of sleep to avoid embarrassment, but the phrasing sounded ambiguous. Manuel's gaze intensified. Panic setting in, she continued, "Oh, no. Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying I want to lie with you…"
His stare intensified further. Realizing the futility of her explanations, Susan unbuckled her seatbelt, fled the car, and ran. She couldn't explain herself, but she could escape.
Manuel watched her go, a barely suppressed smile playing on his lips. He found her inability to compose herself baffling. He pressed the gas pedal, driving away.
Home, Susan buried herself under a quilt, humiliated. Interactions with Manuel and Justine always left her feeling unravelled—a stark contrast to her usual self. Tossing and turning, haunted by her embarrassing episode, she surprisingly felt a surge of passion, sitting bolt upright. The thought of sleeping with Manuel sent her heart racing. A cold shower, intended to quell the desire, only intensified it. Back in bed, the lingering attraction gnawed at her. "I only slept with him once. How can this be so compelling?" she wondered. She turned on her computer, seeking distraction in pornography.
The next morning, Manuel sent Hannah numerous messages and photos from Sarah's interview. She looked polished and elegant, her attire reflecting her senior management status. The interview, already online, received positive feedback. Sarah, exhilarated, was pleased with the outcome Manuel had arranged.
The interview with Northfield’s most prominent magazine significantly boosted Sarah’s profile. Only the elite received such an opportunity. Consequently, Sarah delivered a confident and impressive performance.
Afterward, she tweeted about spreading positive energy, subtly suggesting others emulate her hard work, despite her privileged background. As hoped, this enhanced her popularity. Scrolling through the positive Twitter responses, she reveled in the attention. Lillian’s past dominance was fading. Still basking in her success, her secretary entered. Good-humored, Sarah greeted Rose gently, "Rose, what is it?"
"Oh, god. Miss Collins, someone's trying to jump from the top floor." Rose's voice was laced with anxiety.
Sarah shot up, her expression changing instantly. "Who?"
"Kanae Hoke, from the Planning Department."
Sarah's composure crumbled. She’d harshly reprimanded Kanae the previous day for speaking ill of her and comparing her to Hannah, forcing her resignation. Her presence today was a shock.
"What do we do? Many colleagues are watching. This will attract a lot of attention," Rose worried.
Sarah, acutely aware of the potential damage to her reputation, gritted her teeth. "Let's see what happens."
"Okay," Rose hurried after her, inwardly amused and silently praising Hannah. Sarah's triumph seemed poised to collapse.
On the rooftop, a crowd had gathered, including security. Kanae, visibly distraught, stood precariously on the ledge, preventing anyone from approaching. Sarah noticed onlookers taking pictures. "Stop! No photos! Put your phones away!" she barked, less concerned with rescuing Kanae than with containing the situation.