The sound of a resounding slap echoed, leaving Freya with a trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth.

Bridget gripped Freya by the neck and spatted, "You can't even handle this simple task. All these years, I've wasted so many opportunities on you! Without me, do you think you could even step foot in this building? Freya, if you've chosen to be a lapdog, then do your job well!

With that, Bridget hurled Freya across the room in a fit of rage.

Having just been reprimanded by that woman, Freya was already weak. She crashed against the wall and crumpled to the floor like a rag doll.

Striding over in her stiletto heels, Bridget pressed the sharp tip of her shoe onto Freya's face.

"This afternoon, we're going to Camellia Manor to meet Bailey. I'll find an excuse to bring you along. Figure out a way to make Bailey despise her, got it?"

"Understood."

Freya clenched her teeth and nodded.

Bridget pulled out her phone and transferred 5,000 to Freya.

"Don't say I never treat you well. Use this money to fix your face; it's repulsive."

After hurling insults, she turned and left with rhythmic steps.

Freya, leaning against the wall for support, looked at the transaction on her phone. Her eyes, red with rage, burned with hatred.

Someday, she vowed, she would trample these people underfoot.

With that thought, she limped into the restroom.

Not far away, a pair of eyes watched the scene unfold with a hidden smile before quietly slipping away.

...

In the afternoon, Sylvia was suddenly notified to head to Camellia Manor, leaving her somewhat bewildered. Fortunately, she had brainstormed the basic concepts the night before. Her impression of Bailey was vague at best.

After all, in her past life, she had married Rupert right after graduation and, like a caged canary, been confined to a mansion, tending to their child.

Most of her information came through the internet and snippets of conversations she overheard. Many memories were incomplete in her mind.

Thus, she couldn't wield any

miraculous powers or dominate her adversaries like some sort of superheroine. Being powerless and without influence, she was already

doing well to protect you

In this life, having perhaps chosen a different path, the unfolding events diverged from her expectations - especially concerning Rupert.

Lost in thought, Sylvia was brought back to reality by someone standing at her desk.

"Sylvia, are you ready?" Christine asked with a smile.

Sylvia, surprised by the thorough preparation evident in Christine's arms, replied, "You're well-prepared. I was caught off guard by the sudden notice and haven't had a chance to organize my thoughts yet."

Christine bit her lip slightly. "You know I only came in third, so I have to work harder. I stayed up all night preparing this, and it just so

happens to come in handy"

Sylvia admired Christine's perseverance and nodded. "Don't worry, opportunities favor the prepared mind. You'll do great."

"Come on, let's go. Ms. Simpson said she arranged a car to pick us up," Christine reminded her.

"Alright."

Gathering her materials, Sylvia felt a mix of excitement and nervousness at the prospect of designing for a client for the first time. Yet, something felt amiss.

It wasn't until they descended the stairs and Christine opened the door to a limo that Sylvia's brow furrowed.

Bridget was clinging to the arm of a man inside. "Rupert also had a meeting with Bailey, so he kindly offered to take us."

Just as Sylvia was about to decline and make her own way, Christine pulled her up the steps.

"Thank you."

"Hmm." Rupert responded noncommittally, his gaze briefly meeting Sylvia's.

Now half-dragged into the vehicle, it seemed rather awkward for Sylvia to insist on leaving.

Reluctantly, she took a seat alongside Christine.

Despite the comfort of the custom pod seats, the circular seating arrangement was indeed a social minefield.

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