Chapter 354

On a Friday afternoon, Brielle wrapped up her day’s work early when she heard the distant buzz of her colleagues gearing up for a dinner party. Her office door swung open, and someone strode in.

“Ms. Haywood, we’ve got a private dining room booked. Come have a drink or two with us.”

Initially reluctant, Brielle considered the solitude of her own company at home and agreed with a nod.

After tidying up loose ends for the upcoming workdays, she glanced at the clock–it was 8 PM. She decided to make a brief appearance at the gathering, a gesture that wouldn’t come off as rude. Arriving too early might have stifled the fun, she reasoned.

Following the directions provided by her colleagues, Brielle easily located the restaurant. It was a decent place–not too pricey. By her estimate, the group’s meal would probably run up a tab of around four thousand bucks.

Pushing open the private room’s door, she found everyone already in high spirits.

“Ms. Haywood, you’ve made it!”

“How about singing a song?”

“With your good looks, Ms. Haywood, I bet you’ve got a lovely voice, too.”

One unique feature of the restaurant was that the karaoke setup was integrated into the dining. area.

Some had already begun to belt out tunes, but with Brielle’s arrival, even the sober ones seemed a bit restrained.

Brielle grabbed a bottle from the table and poured herself a drink. “I won’t stay long–I don’t want to cramp your style. You all have fun tonight and rest up tomorrow. I asked the front desk when I came in.

They have plenty of snacks, so let’s have them bring some in later.”

“Hurray for Ms. Haywood!” A cheer went up from the crowd.

This was Brielle’s first time socializing with her colleagues in such a manner. She smiled, nodded, took her drink, and made to leave.

But then, a voice cut through the crowd. “Just one drink? Surely that’s not enough. Latecomers have to down three, you know.”

The atmosphere turned awkward in an instant, as everyone seemed unsure of how to react.

The speaker was Sarah, already tipsy. Her eyes squinted with unmasked displeasure at Brielle’s presence. Brielle gave her a glance, choosing not to take offense, hoping to give them both an out.

Some people, however, refused the chance even when it was right in front of them. Probably irked by Brielle’s non–response, Sarah staggered to her feet, and no one dared stop her.

10:58 This was their boss, after all. Embarrassing her in such a setting was a fool’s errand.

Microphone in hand, Sarah’s flushed face broke into a sneer. “You’re not just drinking three–you’re gonna listen to me sing. How about ‘Femme Fatale? Seems fitting, given how you snare one heart after another.” Everyone held their breath, but Sarah felt vindicated.

Brielle chuckled lightly, asking someone nearby, “Is there really a song called ‘Femme Fatale?”

The questioned colleague was mortified and nodded.

“Alright, then. I’ll stay for the song,” said Brielle as she took a seat.

People expected an outburst from Brielle, but she remained composed. Hearing this. Sarah suddenly didn’t know what to do, her breaths growing labored. Realizing the mood had soured and the alcohol’s effect was waning, she panicked at the sight of Brielle sitting coolly among them.

Brielle’s gaze was calm yet piercing. Brielle looked at Sarah, just clutching the mic, and she frowned.

“Weren’t you going to sing?”

Sarah shivered at the remark, looking like the victim in the eyes of the uninformed. She bit her lip, unable to meet Brielle’s eyes, let alone sing.

Now, her colleagues began to urge her.

“Sarah, weren’t you going to sing? Go on, Ms. Haywood is waiting.”

“Yeah, don’t keep her waiting.”

When they had been choosing the dinner venue, Sarah had been the most enthusiastic, suggesting a three–star Michelin restaurant. With so many in the department, dining Michelin–style could easily cost Brielle tens of thousands. They wisely chose a more modest establishment, but now Sarah’s drunken antics had led to this tense moment.

As the director, Brielle had the power to make or break careers. Challenging her like this was a clear sign of a malfunctioning brain.

Sarah’s voice trembled with fear. “Ms. Haywood, I–I’m sorry, I was drunk.”

Brielle remained silent, simply smiling at her glass. Her silence spoke volumes. It was as if she was saying, “If you don’t sing, I won’t leave.”