It turned out I had been helping a group of ungrateful people all along.
I pushed Nancy aside, not using much force, but she stumbled and fell back. In a panic, she grabbed my arm, pulling me toward her as she tumbled.
I lost my balance and collided with her, and as I turned, I saw the towering champagne tower behind her start to wobble. Realizing it was about to crash, I struggled desperately to free myself from her grip.
But Nancy held on tightly, her voice frantic. “Miss Jones, I was wrong, let go… Help!”
The panic in her eyes mirrored the same madness I’d once admired in her—the same intensity when she used my money to study and escaped from the mountains. Back then, I respected her drive and determination. But now, it was clear that her first step out of that life was to drag me down with her.
As I glanced at the broken glass scattered across the floor, I thought to myself that at least if I fell, she would serve as a cushion.
At that moment, she was yanked aside by Weston and Vincent, and I crashed to the ground with a heavy thud.
Weston looked at the mess on the ground with disdain, his brows furrowed so deeply it seemed like they could crush a mosquito.
"Imogen, how did you end up like this? It’s absolutely revolting!" he spat, before turning to Nancy with a sudden shift in tone, full of concern. He spoke carefully, almost gently, "Nancy, are you hurt anywhere?"
Weston and Vincent immediately began inspecting Nancy from head to toe, as though she were some rare treasure. They found that her calves and feet had been scratched by glass shards, leaving behind two bloody marks. The moment they saw the injury, their concern seemed to escalate.
"Why are you just standing there? Go to the hotel, get a first-aid kit, and treat the wound!" Weston snapped.
"Imogen, you've really done a great job ruining the celebration banquet," Vincent muttered under his breath as he waved to the waiter, but then pointed at me, adding, "Clean up this mess, quickly."
The implication was clear. I was the mess that ruined the entire event.
If it weren't for one of the male subordinates pulling me up, I would've been left face-first in the glass shards. My palms were cut and covered in the sharp pieces, since I had hastily tried to push myself up off the floor. The pain was unbearable, and tears welled up in my eyes as I struggled to control them.
One of the female subordinates tried to help me, but Vincent stopped her, coldly saying, "She’s just playing the victim. Why waste your time on her?"
Despite the harshness of his words, the female subordinate couldn’t stand by. Ignoring the murderous looks of both Vincent and Weston, she continued to help me.
Weston sneered, "Can’t you see she’s faking it, trying to get sympathy because she’s embarrassed? If you don’t have enough common sense to recognize that, maybe you shouldn’t be working here. I’ll have finance and HR sort out your salary and fire you on the spot."
As soon as he said it, he actually made the call to finance and HR, demanding that they fire the employee right there. I couldn’t believe Weston would treat long-time employees so carelessly. My instinct was to stop him.
"Weston, you can’t fire her as long as I’m here!" I shouted, desperate to make him stop.
Without hesitation, Weston kicked me.
The room tensed instantly, and several people urged Weston to let it go for the sake of company harmony.
I stared at him in disappointment, but he didn’t seem to care at all, and merely turned his attention back to Nancy, trying to console her.
Vincent, seeming to feel a bit of responsibility, bent down to help me up. But as soon as he touched me, the pain in my hand became too much, and I couldn’t help but scream, "Don’t move me!"
Everyone thought I was upset about the kick, and they quickly began advising me to calm down and not escalate things with Weston and the others.
