Chapter 24

The disdain in the old man’s tone was evident. “Dream Club is good at everything, but why do you have a murderer as an employee? She...”

Pushing open the door to the booth, they entered, and the sounds of their voices were cut off.

Sophia could hear all their comments clearly. At first, when she began hearing them, she would feel angry and frustrated, but after hearing them more, she got used to them.

“This...” A pair of women’s shoes suddenly appeared in front of her. “You take this.”

Something was shoved into Sophia’s hands, and she did not even have the chance to push it away before Clara ran off.

Unfolding her palm, she saw a business card lying inside.

Clara Robertson.

Sail Law Firm.

*

Dream Club General Manager Office.

Charles Harris sat on the couch with his long, straight legs folded over each other. Sunlight shone through the window and landed on him. The white lapels of his shirt cast a halo around his neck, adding an aura of mystery about him.

Marie skillfully brewed the tea and brought it to him. The corners of her eyes were turned upwards. They were languid, sexy, and with a bit of caution mixed in it. “I'm a little confused as to what’s going on between you and Miss Jones.”

Charles looked at her off-handedly. He picked up his cup of tea and took a sip.

“To say you care for her, well, I’ve never seen you give her a good look.” Marie paused and only after ensuring that he was not angry did she continue to speak slowly. “However, to say you don’t care for her, it has been two years since Sophia hit her, and you’re still defending her.”

The richness of the aromatic tea refreshed his heart.

Charles blew on his tea and took a few sips, his posture elegant and reserved.

Just as Marie thought he would not open his mouth, he asked her in reply, “Who said I was defending Leah?”

“Is that not true?” Marie’s eyebrows raised, her magnificent features tinged with obvious confusion.

This time, she did not get any response.

Charles set his cup down, his dark eyes falling onto her body. “Don’t you have anything to do?”

“How is that possible? It’s such a big club. If you hadn’t arrived for me to entertain, I won’t even have the chance to have a drink of water.” Smiling coquettishly, Marie refilled his teacup and changed the subject. “Megan Zander came to see me today.”

Charles accepted the teacup, his delicate fingers mingling beautifully with the pale green of the teacup, creating an inexplicably beautiful sight.

He looked at his hand, the image of Sophia’s bloody palm appearing in his mind. His brow furrowed slightly.

“She said that Sophia had a stomach bug last night, and her knees are all bruised. She still has to work for ten hours a day, so she’s worried that Sophia’s body won’t be able to take it.

Marie lay on the other side of the couch, lounging on top of it like a cat. “I don’t want to kill anyone, so I think I’ll cut back on Sophia’s workload. What do you think?”

“You have to ask me about such trivial things? I think you don’t need to be the general manager of Dream Club anymore.” Charles felt inexplicably irritable. Raising his hands to his tie, he loosened it as he stood up and walked outside.

When he was almost at the door, he stopped and said in a cold voice, “Send some medicine over. She has no right to die yet.”

With that said, he left the room.

Marie’s glistening eyes flashed with amusement. “Tsk, no right to die, or don’t want her to die?’

*

Staff canteen.

Sophia only had time to hurry back to her dorm to eat her lunch and change before her 15-minute break was over. She did not even have time to rest.

Rubbing her aching legs which felt as if they had been filled with lead, she picked up her cleaning supplies and walked out.

She had no idea when she could stop living a life like this.

A couple of people who had just arrived to eat saw her and whispered among themselves.

“I remember that the lunch break is two hours long, so why does she always go back to work at 12.15?”

“I know her. She used to be a receptionist, but she offended someone and got transferred to be a cleaner. Now, she has to work for ten hours a day.”

“Then why is she still here?”

Happening to walk over, Tiffany said in a raised voice, “What do you know? She has already seduced several rich men in the past few days. If she can become a rich wife in the future, what problem does she have with suffering for now? It’s called being flexible!”

Upon hearing that, many people in the cafeteria looked at Sophia with disdain, scorn, or indifference. Only a few looked at her with pity in their gaze.

“Pfft, a murderer who wants to become a phoenix! Why don’t you go take a piss and see how you look!” Tiffany spat at Sophia, her eyes filled with disdain and contempt.

Sophia looked down at the spittle on her shoes, the lines of her back tensed tersely. She clenched her fists together unconsciously before loosening them and clenching them together again.

The wound on her palm opened up again, and blood trickled down her rough, calloused hand to drip on to the floor. Reluctance, anger, and restraint collided in her heart, tearing at each other while fighting for sovereignty.

“Unhappy?” Tiffany walked up to her, extended her index finger, and poked her in the chest arrogantly. “Spit back if you can... Ah!”

Before she could finish her sentence, Sophia lifted her mop and placed the mop that she used to wipe the floor and was still stained with the dirty water over Tiffany’s face.

The onlookers were stunned.

Tiffany’s senses were clogged. She took a breath, and her nostrils were filled with a smell that made her want to vomit.

She waved her hands about, trying to remove the mop but failed. She screamed at the top of her lungs to Sophia, “Sophia White, you cheeky sl*t!

B*tch, get off me!”

Bang!

Just as soon as the words left her mouth, Sophia kicked her in the knee. She stumbled to her knees, right in front of Sophia.

The mop followed suit and fell to the floor.

Tiffany lifted her water-covered face and was about to scream at Sophia when she met Sophia’s eyes. They were dark and fierce, like a violated beast.

Her words got stuck in her throat, and she somehow got goosebumps all over her body. There was a chill running down her back.

When she took a closer look, Sophia seemed to look like how she normally looked, calm and aloof. It was as if she had just imagined what happened earlier.

“Don’t forget that I’m a murderer.” Picking up the mop, Sophia left the cafeteria without looking back at her. However, she stood at the door, not leaving immediately.

A few moments later, the canteen, which had been quiet, erupted in a series of meaningless whispers. Some of the people there were laughing at Tiffany.

“A murderer is a murderer! She was so fierce, I didn’t even dare to say anything!”

“It’s better to stay away from her in the future. Who knows when she’ll try to kill someone?”

“Ms. Marie’s something too. Of all people to recruit, she had to recruit a murderer. That’s so scary. I’ll have to bring an electric baton with me when I come to work!”

“Tiffany Lawrence deserved it though. Neither of them are pretty pieces of work. Today is at most a dog-eat-dog situation.”

“I felt pretty good seeing Sophia fling that mop over Tiffany’s face. Tiffany has told plenty of tales about me.”

The color of Tiffany’s face changed rapidly from green to red to white and back again. It was even more fascinating than looking at a color palette.

She held onto the wall in embarrassment as she stood up, gritting her teeth in hatred.

She would get her revenge sooner or later!

Sophia stood at the door, listening to the sounds of their discussion. Tugging her lips upward, she smiled a mocking and bitter smile.

Being a murderer was a label she would never be able to shake off. Even if she was forced to retaliate, she would be labeled as the one in the wrong because she was a murderer.

It seemed that she was something filthy that everyone shunned.

Atrophy of Love: Mr. Harris, Stop Fooling Around!

Chapter 20 You're The One At Fault