I began to suspect that Golding Corp was selling Happy Capy merchandise instead.
"Mel, please pour me a glass of warm water," someone said. The voice came from the lounge area.
Mel? Yves sure didn't hold back when calling out to her.
With a calm expression, I poured a glass of hot water and walked into the lounge. The moment he saw me, he became a little flustered. "What… What are you doing here?"
"You're such a big shot that I even need an appointment to enter my own company." I sneered.
I calmly looked at him as he took the cup, drank a large gulp, and quickly spat the water out.
"Hot! Whot did youth do?" His tongue was so burned that his speech became slurred.
"Just disinfecting your mouth a little," I replied.
I looked at the lipstick mark on his shirt with disdain. It was the same shade as what Melissa was wearing.
I added, "If you keep licking cheaply made lipstick, you'll end up with lead poisoning."
Yves changed into a new shirt before coming up with a poor excuse. He said, "Don't misunderstand. Melissa fell, and I just happened to catch her."
"Really? She just happened to fall on your shirt collar? What a coincidence.
"It seems like it won't wash off. This shirt is custom and handmade in Kintaly. Melissa probably can't even afford it with several years' worth of her salary," I said. I raised my brows and looked at Yves.
"It's just a shirt. I can buy a new one. Why make things difficult for others? You weren't like this before," Yves retorted.
It seemed like he really had forgotten. In just half a year, he had forgotten that this was the birthday gift I gave to him. He even said he would cherish it.
Melissa, with her head lowered, brought in a cup of coffee. She was about to leave after setting it down when Yves called out to her, "Bring me the bidding document for the project in North City."
"It's… It's here," Melissa stuttered as she dug it out from the many folders on Yves' desk and handed it to him.
When he sensed the strangeness in her voice, Yves furrowed his brow and asked, "What's wrong?"
She looked up, and instantly, a teardrop fell into the coffee. Her eyes were slightly reddened, with tears welling up in them. There was also a clear handprint mark on her cheek.
"Who did this?" Yves asked, his gaze full of distress.
Melissa said nothing and simply turned to look at me. Another teardrop slipped down her face again. She really looked quite pitiful. Even though I didn't say anything, just her one expression conveyed a thousand words.
Was she an actress? It would be a shame if she didn't enter the acting industry.
"Cynthia, did you hit her?" Yves snapped.
Melissa held his wrist and gently shook it. "No… It wasn't Mrs. Golding. It was my mistake."
"No matter what the mistake was, hitting someone is wrong, let alone slapping them. Cynthia, what you did is too harmful to one's dignity!"
I began, "Where did you—"
However, Melissa interrupted me as soon as I spoke. She choked up, saying, "I-It's… It's because I didn't know… I-I shouldn't have told the receptionists to stop Mrs. Golding… I didn't know…"
Yves' distressed gaze lingered on Melissa's face before he pulled her over to stand before me.
At that moment, I was seated on the couch and savoring my tea. When I looked at the two of them, I took a small sip and remarked, "This tea is delicious."
Yves snatched the teacup from my hand and glared fiercely at me. "Apologize to Mel right now!"
"Apologize for what?" I asked, tilting my head.
"You hit someone, yet you're still this audacious!"
"I hit someone?"
"You hit Mel! Look at her swollen cheek!"
I stood up and leaned closer to Melissa. "I hit you?"
"N-No. Mr. Golding, Mrs. Golding didn't hit me. I fell…"
Then, I graciously slapped Melissa's face twice, the sound echoing through the room.
"Now, I've indeed hit you," I said.
Melissa acted like she had suffered a great injustice. Covering her face, she ran out of the office in tears.
