Chapter 129

Latisha flinched, the ladle tilting in her hand. Hot soup splashed onto her skin, and the bowl nearly slipped from her grasp.

Gritting her teeth against the sting, she set the bowl down and rubbed the scalded spot before nodding at Clifford. Nothing that happened at the company escaped his notice. It was no surprise the rumors about her and Thorin had reached his ears.

Clifford said nothing more. They ate in silence, the only sound the clinking of spoons against porcelain.

After dinner, Clifford went to his study.

Latisha turned on the television and curled up on her designated sofa to sleep. The narrow space gave her a sense of security.

The next day at the office was business as usual. The news that she was mute had spread, and now she was met with curious and pitying glances wherever she went.

Lambert Group was a prestigious company with notoriously high hiring standards. No one could believe a mute had been hired.

Some people tried to strike up conversations, but Latisha merely offered a polite nod and a small smile, refusing to engage further. She knew they weren't interested in getting to know her; they were just satisfying their own morbid curiosity.

When someone they considered beneath them suffered, people felt pity. But when that same person achieved a life equal to or better than their own, a sense of imbalance set in. They felt she didn't deserve her position, and it subconsciously made them feel as if they were less capable than a mute. So they tried to tear her down, to put her back in what they considered her proper place, where they could once again offer their condescending sympathy and feel better about themselves. Most people were hypocrites.

When Latisha arrived at her desk, Rosalie was already there, ready to dump another pile of work on her.

But with Clifford's words from the night before echoing in her mind, Latisha found a sliver of courage. She shook her head, refusing the work.

She wrote on a notepad: My work should be assigned by Ziven.

Rosalie blinked, clearly shocked that she would dare refuse. Her face hardened. "This isn't from me, it's from Ms. Madison! You're in this department, which means you answer to Ms. Madison, don't you?"

Ms. Madison was the manager of the executive assistants' office, holding the same level of authority as Ziven. The two of them were Clifford's most trusted aides. Rumor had it that Ms. Madison was one of Clifford's old college classmates. If it weren't for Yesenia's presence at the company, many would have

assumed Clifford and Ms. Madison were involved.

Latisha pressed her lips together, her gaze fixed on the files Rosalie held. After a moment, she stood her ground and wrote again: Then Ms. Madison should be the one to tell me, not you.

Rosalie's eye twitched, and she let out a humorless laugh, her tone turning hostile. "Well, well. One night is all it takes for you to grow a spine. I guess Thorin made you some nice promises, didn't he?"

Latisha stared straight at her—or rather, at the man standing directly behind her.

"Rosalie, if you have this much free time, would you like me to arrange a transfer to another department?"

Ziven's voice made Rosalie jump. She spun around, her face paling. “Ziven! What are you doing here?"

"I have an assignment for Latisha," Ziven said coolly. "Were you planning on using her as well?"

Rosalie forced a nervous laugh. "No, no, of course not. I wouldn't dare compete with you for staff."

"I thought I heard you say this work was assigned to Latisha by Ms. Madison?"

Rosalie's expression faltered. Of all the bad luck, Ziven had overheard her. Of course, Ms. Madison hadn't assigned any work to Latisha; Rosafe

had been using her manager's name to dump her own tasks. Admitting that now would mean offending two powerful people at once. She couldn't.