The Sleeper's Wrath and His Wife's Strike novel Chapter 155

Naomi walked over and tied the doorknob tightly with a length of rope, knotting it securely. She fastened the other end to the handle of a second door across the hall, making sure that anyone inside wouldn’t be able to open it.

Once that was done, she grabbed the mop bucket from the floor and filled it to the brim with water. Hoisting the heavy bucket, she marched back and poured the entire contents straight into the restroom.

A shrill scream rang out from inside—female, but unfamiliar.

Naomi could hear someone desperately rattling the door, trying to get out, but the handles held firm, bound by the rope.

She quickly filled another basin with water and repeated the process. This time, she didn’t even bother with the bucket, abandoning it as she hurriedly made her escape.

From inside the restroom, curses echoed out into the hallway. “You little brat! When I get out of here, you’ll pay for this!”

Back at the Design Department, Naomi was still riding the high of her little act of revenge. A grin split her face, and she couldn’t help but chuckle under her breath.

But her laughter didn’t last long. Lindsay had returned, looking perfectly dry and composed—no sign at all of having just been soaked in water.

Naomi’s smile faded in an instant, replaced by a sudden anxiety.

Lindsay strolled over with a pleasant smile, gently patted Naomi on the shoulder, and said in a low, meaningful voice, “Nicely done.”

Those words chilled Naomi to the bone. Her scalp prickled, and a wave of dread crashed over her. She couldn’t shake the memory of that unfamiliar scream in the restroom. Had it really not been Lindsay’s voice?

But she could have sworn she’d seen Lindsay go into the restroom and close the door behind her.

Lindsay had even gone to the restroom on purpose, giving Naomi the perfect opportunity for retaliation.

When Naomi put up the “out of order” sign, Lindsay had quietly slipped out of the restroom and into the supply closet at the end of the row. It was just then that the elegant woman had rushed in—both women preoccupied, neither noticing the other.

Now, in the Design Department, no one uttered a word. The woman’s anger only grew. She jabbed a manicured finger at the group and snapped, “You’d better watch yourselves. I’m calling my husband down here right now—and you’ll all regret this!”

She had dressed to the nines for a romantic dinner with her husband, only for her stomach to act up as soon as she stepped into the elevator. Desperate, she’d gotten off on the Design Department’s floor to use the restroom. She hadn’t even finished when a bucketful of water came crashing down on her head. In all her years, she’d never been so humiliated.

Everyone was whispering behind their hands, trying to guess who her husband might be. The answer seemed obvious from her designer clothes and haughty air—she was someone with serious influence.

Naomi, sensing the storm that was about to break, tried to slip away. She knew if she didn’t get out now, things could get very ugly for her.