I'd pulled two consecutive all-nighters to land a major contract. When my blood sugar crashed and I collapsed right in front of Neal, he refused to even help me up—all because of "avoiding suspicion." He just stood there, watching my forehead slam into the corner of the desk.
To this day, a scar hides beneath my bangs.
And now? Now he was putting on this public display of affection because Tania pretended to faint.
My colleagues' sympathy overflowed—straight onto me as accusations:
"Ivy, Tania practically begged you! How can you be so aggressive?"
"Exactly! It's just a little credit. Is it really worth making such a fuss? You're just jealous of her!"
I swept a cold gaze across the crowd, watching them twist right and wrong without a second thought. Contempt filled my chest.
My sharp eyes caught what they'd all missed: Tania's eyelids fluttering ever so slightly, the faint curl at the corner of her lips. She was faking it.
"Don't let her fool you—she's not unconscious. She's acting!"
The words had barely left my mouth when Neal's hand shot up.
Crack.
The slap rang out, sharp and brutal.
Searing pain bloomed across my face. My cheek swelled almost instantly.