Chapter 136:
By noon, Allison had no appetite for lunch; perhaps Kellan's breakfast had been too satisfying. The sight of the cafeteria sandwiches made her feel queasy. Deciding to clear her head, she grabbed a coffee and a boxed lunch and headed to the rooftop for some fresh air.
But as she reached the fire door, muffled voices stopped her.
"Aimee, you've really switched sides fast," a mocking female voice echoed. "The senior employees are so disappointed. We taught you everything, and now this?"
Allison looked up. It was Thea, part of the group that had recently spread rumors and provoked her—now targeting Aimee. Allison pulled out her phone, hit record, and zoomed in on the scene beyond the door.
Aimee stood surrounded by several people, their expressions a mixture of ridicule and disgust. Marc, sneering, spoke with unrestrained contempt.
"We all know you're from a poor, struggling family," he said. "But trying to play both sides won't get you anywhere. You need to understand who's really in charge." He crossed his arms and smirked. "Allison only got this job through connections. You think Mr. Lloyd will keep her around when he's done with her in a few months?"
A chorus of jeers followed. "So, Aimee, what makes you so special? Kissing up to Allison won't get you far."
Thea spat on the floor, her sneer deepening. "Exactly. You're just a two-faced little snake. And you know what? Allison doesn't even care about you. You're nothing to her."
Allison zoomed in further, her gaze hardening. Aimee's clothes were smeared with food stains; discarded dishes littered the ground. It was painfully clear: someone had thrown their lunch on her.
Aimee stood with her head bowed, strands of hair obscuring her face. She looked small, broken. Allison recalled Aimee's recent habit of changing clothes multiple times at work. She'd thought Aimee was overly meticulous, but now she understood. Aimee had been enduring this harassment quietly, day after day. And yet, despite the torment, Aimee had warned her.
Allison's expression turned ice cold. The bullying was unacceptable. Marc loomed over Aimee, his face twisted in malice.
"You've got a lot of nerve reporting me," he said. "Do you really think I won't make your life a living hell?" He raised his hand menacingly, preparing to strike.
Aimee shut her eyes, bracing for the blow, as she always did. But it never came. Marc's wrist was suddenly seized in an iron grip.
"Who do you think you are, raising a hand to her?" Allison's sharp voice sliced through the tension.
Marc turned, stiff with fear, his eyes meeting Allison's. The cold, murderous look in her eyes chilled him.
"I... I wasn't... It was just a joke between friends!" he stammered.
Allison didn't reply. With a swift motion, she flung him aside. He hit the floor with a dull thud, groaning as he clutched his bruised wrist.
For a moment, he lay stunned. Her strength had been terrifying—far beyond his expectations.
Allison bent down and gently brushed food from Aimee's clothes. "It's alright now. I'm here." Her voice was calm but cold, her gaze flickering over the group with shocking intensity.
"And what do you all think this is? Some playground for your petty, backstabbing games? Unfair workplace competition is one thing, but openly bullying a colleague? That crosses a line."
It was the first time since joining the company that Allison had lost her temper.
"Do I need to remind you that you're adults? This isn't high school. If Aimee presses charges, you'll all be facing harassment lawsuits. And trust me, you won't like the outcome. A few nights in jail could be the least of your problems."