In Love With My Bully-Chapter 116: The Quiet Mouse

Queen paused mid-stride, her lips tightening around a sigh that didn’t make it out. Was everyone mooning over Chayara now? The quiet mouse?

She reached the bar and knocked back a shot like it owed her money. The burn in her throat did nothing to quell the burn in her chest. She glanced into the mirror set on the bar’s side column, just a quick glance to remind herself that she looked damn good. The mirror confirmed it: radiant, regal, powerful. Her gold dress shimmered like it had a direct link to heaven’s lighting department. Her hair framed her face like a Vogue cover shoot. She looked like money. She was money.

And yet, everyone including her husband was staring at the woman in a dull black dress as if Coco Chanel herself had risen from the grave to sew it on her. Was the slit that magical? Was there a hidden spotlight following Chay around?

Enough. Queen swiped a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter like she was claiming a weapon and marched toward Chayara.

"Her Chay!" she called out in her faux-surprised voice, plastering a megawatt smile on her face. "What are you doing here?"

Chayara turned around, her face lighting up with genuine surprise. "Hey, Queen!" she said, clearly unaware that Queen had seen her the moment she walked into the room. "I was sent an invite. I’m looking for a property, and they thought it’d save a lot of time to just come see all the options at once."

"A property? For what?" Queen asked.

"For Chayssories," Chayara replied, lifting her chin slightly as if the word alone carried weight. It didn’t yet, but she believed it would. "Just an office building with a large work floor area. Somewhere creative. Practical. Something that breathes design."

Queen took a slow sip from her glass, eyes never leaving Chay’s face. "Yeah," she said thoughtfully, letting the pause stretch uncomfortably. "The new business you’re beginning." The way she said it made it sound like a hobby, like knitting, something whimsical that would fizzle out by Christmas.

Chay’s fingers gripped her clutch a little tighter. "Uh... yes," she said, voice faltering only slightly. Her smile remained intact, but there was a flicker of doubt behind her eyes.

Before she could say more, one of the women standing beside them leaned in with an excited grin, handing Chayara her card like she was offering a golden ticket to a secret club. "Your work is quite impressive," she said. "And that dress is sinful." She winked. "In the best way."

Chay blushed and murmured a modest thank-you, but Queen was already shifting the conversation, sliding in like a PR assassin in a sequin gown.

"Oh, Chay actually used to work for Numero Fashion," Queen said brightly. "She did an exceptional job. I could send you some of the outfits she worked on that are already in the market. Her brand hasn’t quite taken off yet..." She smiled sweetly. "If I can have your card?"

The woman, momentarily confused by the sudden redirection, blinked but nodded. "Of course, sure." She reached into her purse to fish out another card, casting a glance back at Chay with a slightly dimmed spark of interest.

Chayara felt her stomach drop a bit. She was standing right there, dressed in her own design, glowing under the lights, being complimented and yet Queen had just grabbed the narrative and rebranded her from bold new visionary to former staff. It was subtle. It was smooth. It was devastating.

Just then, the double doors opened, and a group of formally dressed ladies wheeled in long tables covered with intricate 3D models of various properties. The display was stunning, with tiny architectural marvels, like a mini city begging to be bought.

"Ah, it’s time," Queen said, her voice triumphant, and turned on her heel. The other women followed her.

Chayara stood frozen, her fingers still curled around the first business card she had received. Her heart thudded, not from excitement now, but from embarrassment. The warmth of pride she’d walked in with had been replaced with the cold trickle of insecurity.

Guy appeared at her side. "It’s time," he said, gently. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

Chay nodded, but her movements were delayed. "Yeah... okay."

He glanced at her and frowned slightly. "What’s wrong?"

She looked up at him, blinking away the mist in her eyes before it had a chance to form fully. "I think Queen just sabotaged me."

His brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Chay sighed, running a hand down the side of her dress, grounding herself in the smooth fabric. "I... I don’t know. Maybe I’m just overthinking it. It’s just... I felt like I had a moment. Like I mattered. And then she just... repackaged me."

"We will talk about this later," Guy said in a low voice, his fingers gently curling around Chayara’s hand. Her skin was soft, and he noticed the way her hand rested in his. He tugged slightly, steering her towards the elegant lineup of 3D display models featuring commercial properties, each one a miniature dream trying to sell itself.

"The beauty of a place isn’t everything," Guy advised as they leaned over one of the models. "You need something in a busy part of town. Visibility matters. You want people to wander in just because they saw your signage out of the corner of their eye and got curious."

Chay frowned slightly, tilting her head as she surveyed a sleek glass-fronted design. "You think so? I mean, art loves quiet. Fashion breathes in the silence."

Guy chuckled, his eyes warm. "Sweetheart, we will soundproof your office. You can have all the peace in the world behind triple-glazed windows. But let the outside world see that something fabulous is happening inside."

"Sweetheart, uhn." A new voice cut into the moment. It held just the right amount of teasing, but there was an edge.

Chayara turned, her smile immediate. "Hey Drake, how are you? I didn’t know you were here too."