
One False Charge, One Full Rampage
Chapter 3
I kicked Jayla's wrist, sending the scissors flying, then shoved her hard onto the trashed couch.
She looked completely unhinged. Ash and spilled liquor stained her clothes and face, and she kept cursing nonstop, "Carmen, aren't you something? When did you start sleeping with Sebastian?
"Cutting off someone's income is basically asking for a fight. I swear I'm going to take you down today!"
She tried to lunge at me again, but all I felt was pity for her. "I didn't do anything. Sebastian is just my boss."
"Bullshit!" Tears smeared across her face as she leaned in close, her voice sharp with pain. "If you didn't seduce him, where would a clueless fresh graduate get money for a brand-new runway bag? He handed all my clients over to you. Last month I only made a thousand dollars!
"Do you think he chose me for the interview tomorrow because I'm qualified? He just wants to piss you off! It's all because of you that I can't even pay my dad's hospital bills now!"
Jayla suddenly grabbed a vase and swung it at my head.
I ducked hard, sidestepped, and immediately hit the record button on my phone. "Jayla, think very carefully. You don't know where this video might end up."
Seeing my cold expression, she froze. Fury burned in her eyes, but she still had enough sense left to back off. With that, she stormed out.
I felt nothing but exhaustion.
Mom had brought that LW handbag back for me from Braoze. Jayla could never pay for the damage she had caused.
I looked at the mess covering the floor, and the adrenaline that had carried me through her attack began to drain away. I sat there in a daze for a long time.
It took nearly an hour before I returned to my senses and started documenting the damage.
By the time I finished cleaning and gathering evidence, it was past midnight. I was about to rest when my phone lit up. It was a message from Sebastian.
A disgusting, stomach-turning photo of his lower body flashed on my screen.
I clutched my phone and shot to my feet before rummaging through my bag.
After I took my medication, my racing heart slowly settled.
When I looked at the photo again, he had already deleted it.
"Carmen, Ms. Buckley isn't feeling well, so you'll do the interview tomorrow. You've contributed so much. I will make sure you're rewarded."
I took screenshots of his text, but didn't reply. Instead, I turned my laptop on and drafted a civil lawsuit through the night.
The next morning, I intentionally showed up late and ignored all his calls.
At the entrance of the building, the place was packed. The lobby was filled with flower stands and banners.
"Mr. Emerson, you're really making a name for yourself!"
"Helping students to get top scores in the exam is an incredible achievement!"
"Mr. Emerson is truly devoted and selfless…"
The more festive the scene appeared, the heavier my chest felt.
His "success" was built on teachers' and students' sweat and suffering. He had done nothing, yet he was the one basking in all the glory.
As the Adrana TV crew arrived, several program directors rushed forward to greet them. "Where's the star teacher?"
"Inside, please come in."
I slipped out of sight and headed toward the back entrance. Right then, his call came through again.
"I told you to be here early! What the hell are you doing?"
I mumbled vaguely, and he immediately blew up. He shouted, "Carmen, this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance! Don't blame me if you miss it!"
I couldn't help but smile as I watched Jayla walk in, all dolled up for the cameras.
I said, "Mr. Emerson, I appreciate the offer. But I'm not interested."