CHAPTER 50: SINFUL PRICE OF VILLAINOUS SEDUCTION

Camela was busy mocking Nancy’s nagging when she bumped into one of the cleaners.

"Hey! Are you blind?" she snapped, fixing her blouse before walking straight to the copier.

The cleaner stared at Camela’s blatant disregard.

She jabbed the button and let the copier run. Then, made her way toward the glass wall, pretending to wander from desk to desk while her eyes kept darting to Rowan inside the meeting room.

Right then, two or three staff members stood up, completely blocking her view. She let out a quiet hiss of annoyance, not realizing the cleaner was still glaring at her.

The cleaner deliberately stepped into the meeting room, lifting her chin at Camela as if to remind her she wasn’t allowed inside. She even gave a smug little smile.

Camela scowled and shot her the middle finger without hesitation.

She watched as the cleaner moved around picking up trash. It irritated her even more to realize the cleaner was doing the same thing she was—circling close to Rowan.

By the time the cleaner stepped out of the meeting room, Camela grabbed her wrist and yanked her into a corner where no one could see them.

"What the hell were you trying to pull?" Camela hissed.

Ivy smirked. "Me? And what about you? You think I didn’t see you acting desperate over him?"

Camela threw her hands on her hips, face twisted with attitude.

"Oh please. A cleaner talking big? You don’t even have the status to breathe near him."

Ivy’s jaw clenched. Her eyes slid to the trash bin beside her.

In one smooth motion, she flipped the bin and dumped the trash onto Camela’s head.

Camela screamed, stumbling back. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

She lunged, grabbing Ivy’s hair. Ivy retaliated instantly, the two of them crashing to the ground and rolling across the floor, hair flying, nails clawing.

Nancy rushed over in a panic. "Hey! Enough! Both of you, stop!"

Ten minutes later, the three of them stood in front of John, the Head of Human Resources, with their heads bowed.

He tapped his fingers against the desk, eyes on them, leaning back in his chair without saying a word.

Ivy raised her hand. "She started it," she said, pointing directly at Camela. He didn’t react. His eyes moved from Nancy to Camela.

"Nancy, you may go," he said at last. "If this happens again, you’re fired."

Then he looked at Ivy. "You too. Leave."

Ivy and Nancy hurried out, pulling the door shut behind them.

John stood from his chair, walked over, locked the door with a quiet click, and then slowly turned back to Camela.

He approached her slowly, and Camela tensed, stepping back without realizing it.

"You want to keep your job, don’t you?" he asked. She nodded quickly.

"Then you know there’s a price. You caused a mess today," he said, watching her carefully.

Camela’s voice shook. "W—what do I have to do?"

"Simple..." He touched the zipper of his pants, and Camela’s eyes widened in shock.

"Wait—hold on." Camela turned away and lifted her hand, stopping him from getting any closer.

"I’ve got my own request too," she said, seizing the chance to flip the situation.

He arched a brow. "What request?"

Camela stepped back, inwardly relieved that she had stopped his disgusting attempt.

"I want a position closer to the CEO."

The manager hesitated. Her request carried weight, normally only the CEO chose the staff around him.

But she didn’t know that, and he didn’t care. He could use her before she ever figured it out.

"Okay, done," he said, moving closer. He grabbed her backside and leaned in to kiss her.

Camela instantly calculated her exit.

"Not now," she said quickly. "Nancy’s waiting for me. If I... do anything with you, she’ll notice. Her eyes are too sharp."

John leaned back, considering it.

Camela softened her voice. "Why don’t we meet at a hotel tonight?"

His eyes lit up. "Sure. Which hotel?"

"I’ll give you the address later," she said.

Relief washed through her. She’d slipped out of his grasp, at least for now.

By lunchtime, the office was empty. Camela called Dante, her leg bouncing with impatience as she waited for him to pick up.

"...Mm? Who’s this?" he muttered, his voice raspy, like he’d just opened his eyes.

Camela heard a muffled sound, and he faintly shooed someone away on the other end of the line.

"Dante... who are you dealing with?" she whispered. "That man... his name’s John, isn’t it?"

"How did you know?" Dante asked.

She drew in a slow breath, irritation simmering under her skin. "So it is him."

"It’s irritating—he can’t even keep his damn dick in his pants," Camela hissed.

Dante let out a low, dragging chuckle on the other end.

"You want me to teach him how to keep his dick where it belongs?"

"Exactly. Teach him," Camela said, her voice firm. "But don’t kill him—I can still use him."

"What do you want me to do?" Dante asked.

Camela paused for a moment, then an idea clicked into place.

"Send a girl to me. Find someone who looks like me. I’m going to have her disguise herself as ’Camela.’"

The next morning, as soon as Camela stepped into the office, John summoned her in.

"Camela, you look surprisingly lively today... considering how half-dead you were last night."

A small twitch pulled at her face. The girl she’d sent in her place yesterday had come back utterly wrecked after John was done with her. The thought alone made her skin prickle.

She gave a faint cough and pulled on a calm smile. "I took a strong energy tonic. It helps me feel energized."

"Is that so?" He licked his lips and leaned in, about to kiss her.

Camela jerked back and shoved him away—enough to wipe the smirk off John’s face.

"Your energy’s back, right?" he muttered, irritation rising. "Then why don’t we start our morning with a little sweat?"

A cold shiver rippled through her, every hair on her arms standing upright.

"Um... but my whole body’s still sore," she said quickly.