Chapter 361

"It's fine, really. This isn't a privacy issue. You're just reviewing surveillance footage from your own workstation—what's the problem with that?" One security guard spoke politely, while the other nodded in agreement.

Sophia and Sophia Carter were granted access to the security feed. Sophia focused on the hour when she had been summoned by HR. Within minutes, she found what she was looking for.

Fifteen minutes after she had left her desk, Olivia Kensington carefully wheeled a swivel chair to Sophia’s workstation, then pushed it away with far less caution than before.

"Why would she switch your chair?" Sophia Carter asked, puzzled.

"That’s exactly what I want to know," Sophia replied.

Leaving the security room, Sophia headed straight back to the design department. Fortunately, it was empty—everyone had gone to lunch.

Perfect.

No witnesses.

Sophia mimicked Olivia’s actions, carefully pushing the chair upstairs to Olivia’s workspace. Sophia Carter had already pointed out Olivia’s exact spot. Sophia swapped the chairs, stashing Olivia’s original one in a hidden corner, then waited.

Olivia returned, laughing with her usual entourage. In her department, everyone followed her lead.

When Olivia’s sycophants spotted Sophia standing at Olivia’s desk, they sneered.

"Olivia, looks like the little country bumpkin Mr. Montgomery praised yesterday is here to grovel."

"She must be here to apologize."

"Pathetic. She caved so quickly."

Olivia smirked. "Even if she begs, I won’t forgive her. She’s the homewrecker who destroyed my sister’s marriage!" She sauntered over. "What do you want, homewrecker? Oh, wait—why are you standing so normally? I thought you’d be crawling by now."

Sophia kept her voice steady. "Why call me that?"

"You seduced my brother-in-law!"

"Did you see it happen?" Sophia countered.

Olivia faltered.

"Because I didn’t," Sophia continued. "Liam Sterling has been chasing me for six years. I never wanted him. Your sister picked up my leftovers. Tell her this—if either of you calls me a homewrecker again, I’ll take Liam back. Should I call him right now and make him dump her?"

Olivia’s jaw dropped. Her entourage gasped.

This wasn’t an apology. This was war.

The room tensed, waiting for Olivia to slap Sophia.

Instead, Sophia picked up the desk phone and began dialing.

Before she finished, Olivia shrieked. "Agh—it hurts! It hurts!"

Olivia was wedged between the swivel chair’s seat and its broken base. The seat had tilted violently, stabbing into her hip. Blood seeped through her pants.

Her pose was absurd—half-crouched, arms braced on the desk like a trapped animal. Her wails made it worse.

The office erupted in stifled laughter before remembering whose side they were on.

Blood pooled beneath Olivia.

"Are you all brain-dead? Call an ambulance! Call the police! Arrest this bitch! Sophia, you murderer—you’ll rot in jail!" Olivia howled.

Sophia froze.

She’d known the chair was sabotaged.

But she hadn’t realized how brutal Olivia’s plan had been. If she hadn’t found out, she would be the one bleeding.

Sophia’s lips curled coldly. "Let the police decide who set up whom. The surveillance footage won’t lie."

She turned to leave.

The office gaped.

Olivia screeched, "Get back here! Sophia!"

But someone had already dialed—not the police, but HR.

Within minutes, the HR manager arrived.

The office flooded with rubberneckers.

An ambulance followed.

HR didn’t assign blame—just rushed Olivia to the hospital. Sophia went too, needing to know the damage.

The doctor’s verdict chilled her.

"Luckily, the victim was wearing thick wool pants. Without that padding, the broken chair leg could’ve pierced her abdomen. She might’ve been sterilized—or worse, suffered fatal internal bleeding. As it is, she only needs bed rest."

Sophia exhaled sharply.

It wasn’t even winter. Most women in the office wore skirts or thin slacks. Olivia’s thick pants? A fluke—her skirt had torn in the elevator that morning.