Chapter 1135

A sharp exclamation pierced the air, the second fall proving even more jarring than the first, likely

leaving behind a painful lump on her skull.

Summoning an unwavering strength, Millie stood, determined to rise above the discomfort. Casting her

gaze about the restroom, she identified no one in sight, yet the telltale evidence of deliberate

malfeasance was unmistakable-the floor awash with hand sanitizer.

Son of bitch!

Uttering an internal curse, she inhaled deeply, regaining her composure as she cleansed herself at the

sink. With a swift motion, she tamed her tousled hair, surveying her reflection in the mirror.

Lips pursed in defiance, Millie’s thoughts gathered. A mere return to work had been met with such an

unwelcoming reception, suggesting an unsettling eagerness for her return on someone’s part.

A N G E L A ‘s L I B R A R Y

Determined to prioritize her own well-being, Millie took a detour to the infirmary. Ointment for her

bruised skin was procured, followed by a visit to the logistics department, culminating in the acquisition

of a fresh chair.

As they traversed back to the design domain, Millie unceremoniously deposited the new chair and slid

it into place.

Emerie, observing from her peripheral vision, noted Millie’s unwavering persistence. She couldn’t help

but admire Millie’s resilience-rather than retreating to recover from the ordeal, Millie pressed on.

Undeterred by the noise generated by the chair’s movement, Millie continued to exert her resolve.

Approaching Emerie’s workspace, Millie halted.

Slightly perturbed by Millie’s scrutiny, Emerie turned her head impatiently.

“What’s the matter?”

With a composed demeanor, Millie leisurely placed a bottle of hand sanitizer onto her desk.

“Emerie, consider this hand sanitizer a gift from me to you.”

Millie’s voice, devoid of anger, resonated with a distinct note of consideration.

Emerie’s guilt was palpable as she blinked at the sight of the hand sanitizer bottle. Though her

conscience weighed heavily, she remained resolute in her decision to withhold any admission of her

involvement in both the chair incident and the hand sanitizer spill.

Emerie’s retort carried a certain vehemence, her words laced with a facetious tone.

“Who needs this? Do you think I can’t manage it on my own?”

Nancy’s calculated announcement of Marcus’ absence on a business trip together with other senior

executives assured Emerie that her actions would go unnoticed. Additionally, Millie’s status as an intern

designer, coupled with the allegations of plagiarism, further rendered her a target.

Seizing the opportunity to redirect the conversation, Millie focused on Emerie’s appearance.

“Emerie, have you noticed the surprising number of gray hairs on your head?”

What! Emerie’s brow furrowed in disbelief as her hand instinctively reached for her hair, her disbelief

tangible.

Maintaining her innocence, Millie nodded affirmatively.

“There really are quite a few. I’m not exaggerating.”