The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 42

“You chose me, and you mentored me. I respected you for that. I even treated you like a father. But as for arranging my marriage to your son…” She let out a dry, humorless laugh.

That wasn’t a kindness; it was a leash. He had been trying to control her from the very beginning. He’d dressed up deception and humiliation as a favor and had the audacity to expect her gratitude.

“You… you…” Mr. Sullivan was so angry he was sputtering.

“I can delete the video,” she offered calmly.

“Then what are you waiting for? Do it!”

“I want my personal belongings.”

Cornered, Mr. Sullivan had no choice but to agree. But as she turned to leave, he snarled through gritted teeth, “And don’t you ever set foot in Stone Group again!”

“You’d do well to remember that yourself.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you couldn’t pay me to come back to this dump.”

“You—!”

Leaving Mr. Sullivan pale with rage, Penelope walked out of his office with a sense of satisfaction. When she got back to the project department, Wilma told her that Rebecca had moved her box of belongings into a back office. She went inside to find Rebecca and Tracy rummaging through her things.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, her voice sharp with anger.

Rebecca quickly tried to explain. “I know you wouldn’t hide anything, but the CEO wanted to be sure, so Tracy and I are just taking a quick look.”

“And look here,” Tracy said, pulling a notebook from the box. She flipped it open to a random page, saw a list of phone numbers, and assumed it was a log of important client contacts. “Ms. Laurier, you’ll have to leave this behind.”

Penelope glanced at the notebook, frowning slightly. She had tossed it in the box without a second thought, but if she’d been paying more attention, she would have just thrown it straight into the trash.

Rebecca took it from Tracy and scanned a few pages, her expression shifting several times. “Penelope,” she said, feigning reluctance, “maybe it’s best if you just leave the notebook here.”

When Rebecca came home that evening, Penelope greeted her as if nothing had happened.

“Oh my, Rebecca, you’re breaking out around your mouth. What happened?”

Rebecca instinctively covered her lips. “It’s nothing, just a bit of stress.”

“Stress, you say? You should drink more water.”

Rebecca’s cheerful façade was clearly cracking; she ended up ordering takeout for dinner.

Penelope posted a passive-aggressive status on Facebook, and sure enough, a maid showed up a short while later with a delivery of food, sent on Zebulon’s orders.

It had been an incredibly satisfying day, so much so that she found it hard to sleep. Tomorrow, she had to go to Zenith Group to return that shirt. Theodore would almost certainly refuse to see her. She needed a plan.

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