Chapter 124
Isabella finished blending the fragrance and made her way to the restroom.
Moments later, she overheard a cluster of young women chattering by the sinks.
“Can you believe it?” one of them exclaimed. “Our new department head, who seems so poised, is actually scandalous!”
“Marcus told us Isabella is just some orphan with no upbringing,” another chimed in. “No wonder she’s so shameless.”
“I never expected her to be that kind of woman,” a third added with a sneer.
Isabella’s expression frosted over.
She hadn’t anticipated her first confrontation with workplace gossip would happen in a bathroom—of all places.
The women outside showed no signs of stopping.
“Why would Mr. Kingsley even look at someone like her?” one continued.
“Please, if it’s handed to him on a silver platter, what man would refuse?”
Before the words fully left her lips, the stall door swung open.
Isabella, the subject of their whispers, stepped out calmly. Without sparing them a glance, she moved to the vanity, retrieving her lipstick and meticulously tracing her lips.
“Miss… Miss Sinclair… hello…”
The women froze, their faces draining of color.
Finishing her touch-up, Isabella met their eyes in the mirror.
“Don’t stop on my account. Continue.”
The ice in her gaze sent shivers down their spines.
“You were hired to work, not to speculate about your superiors’ private lives. Spreading rumors and stirring drama—clearly, you have too much free time.”
Her voice was lethally soft. “You present yourselves as respectable, yet your words are anything but.”
“We—we’re sorry, Miss Sinclair!” one stammered. “It wasn’t us! We just heard—”
Isabella turned, a cold smile curling her lips. “Heard? So it’s not your fault for repeating unfounded gossip?”
With her cascading waves and bold red lips, she radiated both elegance and intimidation. Her tailored suit only accentuated her authority as she scrutinized them.
“Consider this your warning. Gossiping during work hours? Kiss your quarterly bonuses goodbye.”
These women weren’t the rumor’s source—Isabella suspected Marcus had rallied them.
The group paled. Charisma Company’s bonuses were substantial—$4,000 this quarter. Losing it stung more than any reprimand.
But Isabella’s detached demeanor terrified them more. If she could revoke bonuses, what else was she capable of?
Panicked, one dropped to her knees. “Miss Sinclair, please forgive us!”
Isabella didn’t acknowledge them. When they dared to look up, she was already gone, leaving only tension thick enough to choke on.
Damn. Now they were truly terrified.
Back in the lab, Isabella found Marcus adjusting his glasses. Documents littered his desk as he smirked at her.
“Miss Sinclair, think you can handle this?” Arrogance laced his tone.
The client was infamous—demanding, erratic, and never satisfied. This time, they’d provided a chaotic formula with over forty ingredients and no precise measurements.
Naturally, Marcus had dumped this disaster on Isabella.
“Since this is a VIP client,” he said smoothly, “and we’re… unequipped, we’ll leave it to you.”
Isabella picked up the documents, scanning them swiftly before inhaling the sample.
“Consider it done.”
Marcus blinked. He’d expected hesitation—or failure. Even the observing technicians stiffened in surprise.
“Uh… thank you, Miss Sinclair,” he managed, thrown off-balance.
He’d prepared taunts for her refusal, certain she’d crumble. Now, his rehearsed jabs lodged in his throat.
Isabella uncapped the sample, analyzing it. “Anything else?”
“N-no.”
As he retreated, she focused. Each note was complex, but not insurmountable. Within hours, she’d deciphered the formula, blending it flawlessly.
Marcus watched through the glass, teeth gritted. “She’s faking it. Just wait until the client tears her apart.”
Outside, he nudged a colleague. “No way she nailed it. Last time, this took us two weeks. She’s just grandstanding.”
His smirk returned. “When the client rejects it? That’ll be her downfall.”
