Immediately after I was done preparing breakfast, I hurriedly took my bath. The warm water did little to wash away the heaviness in my chest. I dressed carefully, choosing something simple yet elegant — a cream blouse tucked into a pencil skirt — then tied my hair into a neat ponytail. A light touch of makeup followed, just enough to make me look awake and composed, even if I felt anything but that inside.

Before leaving the guest room, I reached for my vitamins and, like every morning, took them quietly, hiding the bottle behind the wardrobe shelf again. No one knew. No one could know — not yet.

As I walked out of the Markson estate, the air was fresh but my heart wasn’t. I hailed a cab and gave the driver the address of KNT Designs. My hands rested on my lap as I looked outside the window. I couldn’t stop replaying Vincent’s cold eyes from earlier, the way he brushed past me like I was invisible. It still stung.

The cab stopped in front of the magnificent glass building. I stepped out, staring up at the familiar logo glimmering under the sunlight. The same place where I once poured my heart into designs, the same company that had once turned its back on me.

I took a deep breath and walked in.

The moment I entered, I could feel their eyes.

Whispers.

Gasps.

Judging stares that sliced through the air.

> “Wait—isn’t that Miss Alice?”

> “Didn’t she get fired?”

> “I thought she was dismissed for… you know.”

> “Shh, don’t say that! She’s here again, so maybe the boss brought her back.”

> “I actually liked her work… maybe she wasn’t the problem after all.”

I kept walking as though I heard nothing, my heels clicking steadily against the marble floor. But each word, each whisper, clung to me like dust. I had learned long ago that pretending not to hear was easier than letting their opinions break me.

When I got to the HR desk, the clerk glanced at her list before giving me a small, apologetic smile.

“You’ve been reassigned, Miss Alice. You’ll be joining the design department again—but this time as a lower assistant.”

A short laugh escaped my lips. Lower assistant?

So, this was Vincent’s way of teaching me a lesson.

“Thank you,” I said, keeping my composure. “Please point me to my workspace.”

I followed the directions to the far end of the department. My desk was small—barely enough space for my sketch pad and coffee mug—but I sat down anyway. I had started from worse. I wasn’t going to break now.

Moments later, a familiar voice rang out.

“Miss Alice!”

I turned and saw Jenna, my former assistant, rushing toward me, her face glowing with excitement. She handed me a coffee cup just like she used to.

“I can’t believe you’re back! I missed you so much Miss Alice,” she said, her voice full of sincerity.

My lips curved into a genuine smile for the first time that morning.

“I missed you too, Jenna.”

She grinned and leaned closer. “Don’t worry, Miss Alice. I’m sure you’ll get promoted soon. Everyone knows you’re one of the best designers this place ever had.”

“Thank you,” I said softly. “Now, get back to work before someone catches you chatting.”

She giggled and hurried away.

I sipped my coffee and turned my focus back to the pile of papers before me. My new role meant going through batches of design orders, verifying fabric details, and double-checking schedules — tedious, exhausting work. But I kept at it, determined not to show a hint of weakness.

Still, every now and then, I could feel the stares from other staff members — some curious, some judgmental, others plainly dismissive. They greeted me out of politeness but avoided further interaction, whispering again whenever I passed by.

I ignored them all.

Hours passed. I stretched in my seat, rubbing the back of my neck. I had just finished reviewing the first batch of orders. “Finally,” I muttered, staring at the clock. “It’s already noon.”

Time flies when you’re busy trying to prove your worth.

Tomorrow, I’d start on my actual design sketches. For now, I just wanted to get through the day. “Good job, Vincent,” I murmured sarcastically. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

I stood up, smoothing my skirt. The office had gone quiet. I looked around and realized most of the staff had already gone for lunch break. “When did everyone leave?” I whispered to myself, glancing around the empty room.

That’s when I remembered the lunch box I had packed earlier that morning — the one I made for Vincent.

Even after everything that had happened, I still wanted to make peace. Maybe food could do what words couldn’t.

I gathered the neatly wrapped lunch box, tucking it under my arm. My pulse quickened as I made my way toward the CEO’s exclusive floor.

The hallway leading to his office was silent — polished floors, golden light reflecting from the glass walls. I walked carefully, hoping no one would notice how nervous I was. My shoes echoed softly against the tiles.

I didn’t know what I was expecting — maybe a simple thank you, maybe another cold stare. But I wanted to try. For once, I wanted to be the one to make things right, even if he refused to see it.

As I approached the door, my grip on the lunch box tightened.

One deep breath.

Then another.

“Alright, Alice,” I whispered to myself. “Let’s do this.”

And with that, I walked toward Vincent’s office, ready to face whatever came next — not as the woman he pushed away, but as the woman determined to stand her ground.