World Cup Final Eve, I Blocked My Husband and His Childhood Sweetheart Chapter 03

World Cup Final Eve, I Blocked My Husband and His Childhood Sweetheart Chapter 03

I looked at the smug, high school queen bee expression on her face and almost laughed.

“Miss Winslow, this company has procedures for a reason. Senior management appoints project leads. You don’t get to replace one just because you say so.”

I pulled the project file out from under her hand.

Clara didn’t look offended. Instead, she smiled lazily.

“Vivian, you’re still just as stubborn.” She tilted her head. “Did you really think moving to Miami meant you could escape Ethan? All he has to do is snap his fingers, and every bit of hard work you’ve put in becomes his.”

She took out her phone and called Ethan.

He answered almost immediately.

“Ethan…” Clara’s voice instantly softened into a sweet, pitiful whine. “Vivian doesn’t seem very willing to cooperate with me.”

His irritated voice came through the speaker.

“Vivian, what are you pulling now? Clara doesn’t know anyone in Miami. I arranged for her to work at your company so you’d have someone looking after you.”

“So what if you hand that project over to her? If you’re worried about performance bonuses or promotions, I’ll just pay for whatever you want.”

His tone was so matter-of-fact, as if I were someone waiting for his charity.

I took a slow breath before speaking into the phone.

“Ethan, do you really think money can buy everything?”

“You treat people’s careers like a child’s game. I don’t have time to play along.”

“If you want my project, have the executive board issue an official reassignment.”

Then I hung up.

Clara’s smile disappeared.

“Vivian,” she said coldly, “you’re making this harder than it has to be.”

Late that afternoon, just before everyone left for the day, my department manager, Gary Miller, called me into his office.

He looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“Vivian…” He sighed. “This came from upstairs. Project Apollo is being reassigned to Miss Winslow.”

He hesitated before continuing.

“The investors specifically requested that she lead it. Our hands are tied.”

I met his evasive gaze and understood everything.

Ethan had bought three months of my work with a fifty-million-dollar investment.

I didn’t argue.

I simply nodded.

“Understood. I’ll start the transition.”

When I returned to my desk, Clara was sitting in my chair, scrolling through my computer.

“See?” she said smugly, twirling a pen between her fingers. “Wouldn’t it have been easier if you’d cooperated from the beginning?”

“Ethan told me that as long as you’re obedient, you’re always welcome back in New York.”

I tossed my external hard drive onto the desk.

“Clara, does it help you sleep at night, taking credit for someone else’s work?”

She stood, leaned close enough for only me to hear, and whispered,

“As long as it makes you miserable, I sleep like a baby.”

“Ethan’s money…”

“And Ethan himself…”

“They’ll both be mine sooner or later.”

Looking into her greedy eyes, I suddenly laughed.

“Then you’d better hurry.”

“Because once I dump him, you’ll be fighting over leftovers.”

Over the next few days, Clara became the star of the office.

As the fiancée of the Harrington Group’s CEO, she acted like she already owned the place, barking orders at everyone in the department.

As for me, she assigned me to nothing but busywork.

Making copies.

Picking up lunch orders.

Organizing meeting minutes.

One errand after another.

My coworkers’ sympathetic glances gradually disappeared.

Soon, most of them avoided me altogether.

No one wanted to get on the wrong side of a woman who had arrived carrying fifty million dollars in investment money and the backing of the Harrington family.

Friday afternoon, I was rinsing my coffee mug in the break room when loud shouting erupted outside.

“Where’s that little bitch Vivian?”

“Tell her to get her ass out here!”

I dried my hands and stepped into the hallway.

The first person I saw standing in the middle of the office was Eleanor.

Wrapped in a luxurious mink coat, she stood beside my desk, pointing furiously as she screamed.

“You little curse!” Eleanor shrieked. “Ever since you ran off to Miami, Ethan’s been getting drunk in bars every single night! What did you do to him? Put some kind of spell on him?”