I released a weary sigh, the weight of the day settling heavily on my shoulders. Today had been particularly taxing, though it had mercifully distracted me from my usual spiral of negative thoughts.

A sudden chime broke through my haze—my phone. I realized I hadn't checked it since Mr. No Words left earlier this morning. Once again, he had certainly left an impression.

"New story update," I murmured, feeling a blush creep onto my cheeks as the words escaped. Embarrassed, I glanced around, half-expecting someone to walk in at that exact moment.

Excited, I stole a glance at the clock near the door. It was almost 8 PM, and Mrs. Clinton would arrive soon. Likely preoccupied with family matters again, she hadn't called or left any messages about running late.

Taking advantage of the lull, I scanned the quiet store, eager to lose myself in the world of fantasy and fiction. But my brief escape was cut short by the jingling of the store bell, followed by a burst of laughter.

I looked up, offering a polite smile and greeting before quickly placing my phone back on the counter. Four women in sleek office attire strolled in, engrossed in animated conversation.

"That HL building is going to make this store famous fast," I muttered under my breath, occupying myself with sorting items on the shelves behind the counter, humming softly.

Their conversation, however, quickly dominated the space, drowning out my thoughts.

"It's the first time I've seen the CEO with a woman," one of them said in a hushed tone, leaning conspiratorially toward the group.

"Oh, to be in her place!" another chimed in dreamily. "What am I saying? He's the CEO, after all."

"Yeah, and that face of his is worth it," added a third, her tone filled with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Although, let's be honest, he's rough around the edges—like, all the edges."

"Don't be like that... um... it's just his personality," someone countered, though her hesitation gave her away.

"Yeah, right. Say that without hesitating," another shot back, her scepticism cutting through the group's giggles.

Their gossip was surprisingly intriguing, and I couldn't resist eavesdropping. The mention of the CEO immediately piqued my interest—I had spent so much time wondering about the owner of HL Inc. He must be some high-class jerk with a heartthrob body, sharp eyes that could steal anyone's soul if he wanted to, I mused, momentarily lost in thought. I couldn't help but fantasize about the steamy office romances I'd read about in books.

Lost in reverie, I failed to notice my hand slipping, sending a container of orange juice crashing to the ground. The liquid spilled onto the women's clothes, eliciting surprised squeals from them. Panicked, I rushed to clean up the mess, apologizing profusely as I did so.

"Please, let me help—" I began, but my offer was met with anger and disdain. The women berated me, their insults stinging with every word.

"Get away from me, you useless thing," she of them spat, as her friend pushed me aside roughly.

"Do you know how much this costs?" she demanded, her face flushed with anger as she pointed at her expensive red dress—too short and tight to pass as office attire.

"N-No," I stuttered, already dreading where this was headed. "Look, I'm deeply sorry. I'll pay for the dry cleaning," I blurted out, reaching for my purse, but she stopped me mid-motion.

"Keep your fucking sorry," she snapped, stepping closer.

I froze, stunned, as she turned on her heel and stormed out of the store with her friends, their voices ringing with insults that lingered in the air.

Moments later, Mrs. Clinton arrived, her expression a blend of surprise and annoyance as she took in the chaotic scene. I could feel her disappointment radiating toward me, though she didn't say a word.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Mrs. Clinton's stern demeanour softened, and to my surprise, she let out a hearty laugh—a rare sight.

"That was quite a scene, dear," she chuckled, patting my shoulder affectionately. "You managed to make this old lady laugh like she was young again."

Relieved by her unexpected reaction, I watched as she moved behind the counter, her laughter still echoing in the air. "I'm not angry, dear," she assured me, her tone gentle yet firm. "In fact, I'm rather impressed. It takes a few to embarrass those who are so mighty."

Grateful for her understanding, I listened as she instructed me to take the day off tomorrow to avoid any further confrontation. With a grateful thank you, I gathered my belongings and bid her goodbye before stepping out into the cool night air.

The starry sky greeted me, offering solace in its silent beauty. I found myself drawn to the towering HL Inc. building across the street, its grandeur captivating even in the darkness. With a longing sigh, I crossed the road, the allure of the building pulling me closer.

"Not like you care, wind," I mumbled, brushing my fingers through the curls as the sudden gust tousled my hair. "It takes hours just to make it look decent."

I continued my walk, the night quiet and uneventful in this serene neighbourhood—a major reason why businesses had started popping up just beyond its junction.

It seemed clear: they wanted to push out the poorer areas to maximize their profits. I might be close to the truth—or maybe far from it.

"If you value your life, sure, be my guest. But don't forget who holds the power here," a sharp voice echoed in the distance, its tone dripping with menace.

I froze, my eyes catching a shadowy figure disappearing into the darkness. A sudden flash of car lights startled me, leaving a chill of unease in its wake. I stood there, staring until I forced myself to snap out of it and move on.

The car zoomed past me, its windows tinted to match the blackness of the night. For a fleeting moment, it felt as if unseen eyes were watching me, disappearing as quickly as the car sped away.

"Slow down, you maniac!" I shouted after it, exasperated, trying to tame my curls again with a huff. "Speed kills," I added, hoping the madman would hear me.