Evelyn Is Unyielding

Evelyn’s eyes met Genevieve’s, her expression unwavering and composed.

Then, she moved closer, her voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "That's right. I poured the coffee on purpose."

Genevieve’s face flushed crimson with rage, her eyes narrowing to slits.

But before she could speak, Evelyn’s next words iced the blood in her veins.

"I'm here to work and earn a living. If you continue to interfere, next time, it won't be coffee."

Evelyn’s gaze remained fixed, scanning Genevieve’s features as if selecting her next point of impact.

"You have a lovely face. It would be a shame if something... unfortunate happened to it."

Terror locked Genevieve’s limbs. Her breath hitched.

As Evelyn released her, panic seized Genevieve. She instinctively threw her hands up to shield her face, terrified of a blow.

If Evelyn wanted to make Genevieve regret her actions, Genevieve had her own methods of retaliation.

But one thing was certain—she could not risk her face being damaged.

Fury simmered beneath the surface, but Genevieve suppressed it. She was not ready to escalate further.

After a tense moment, she stamped her foot in frustration and stormed away, her exit swift and dramatic.

Evelyn watched her leave without a flicker of emotion. Her face was a mask of calm detachment.

There was no remorse in her eyes. Only cool indifference.

She glanced down at the stain on her blouse and sighed softly. Then she turned and walked toward the restroom.

Once both women were gone, the office atmosphere shifted. A collective sigh of relief was almost audible.

One colleague finally broke the silence. "Evelyn is unyielding. She actually stood up to Genevieve like that."

Another murmured, "I heard Evelyn already challenged her during the interview yesterday. So this isn't really a surprise."

A third voice added, "But don't you think Evelyn is the one you really don't want to cross?"

A heavy silence descended, the weight of the observation settling over everyone. It was clear Evelyn was not someone to provoke.

Breaking the tension, a colleague who seemed oblivious took a sip of his coffee and grinned. "Honestly, this new café makes a fantastic brew."

The others exchanged exasperated looks, rolling their eyes at his poor timing.

"Anyway," another colleague said, his voice hushed, "even though Nathanial said we could have Evelyn run errands, we should be careful not to push her too far."

"Agreed," came the unanimous, cautious reply.

"Alright everyone, back to work."

"Someone call maintenance to clean the floor," another muttered, trying to move on.

From that moment, the Fashion Design Department had a new understanding of Evelyn. Her temper was not to be tested.

Later, Genevieve returned after changing her clothes. The moment she saw Evelyn, her eyes widened.

But this time, it was different. There were no insults or dirty looks. Genevieve didn't even acknowledge Evelyn, pretending not to see her. She walked past, deliberately avoiding any contact.

In fact, Genevieve immediately took it upon herself to move her desk away from Evelyn's, relocating to the other side of the office. The message was clear: she wanted nothing more to do with her.

The shift was noticed by all. Despite Nathanial's earlier instructions, no one dared to ask Evelyn to perform any trivial tasks.

The caution among the colleagues was palpable. They treaded carefully around her.

After a quick lunch, Nathanial called Evelyn into his office.

"Evelyn, a major client is arriving soon. I need to handle this personally. Take these documents to the main conference room on the seventeenth floor."

He hastily thrust a stack of files into her arms, grabbing his coat as he rushed out.

Evelyn nodded and headed for the elevator, documents in hand.

Aethelgard Industries' headquarters was a labyrinth of offices and departments, each floor with a distinct purpose. It also featured numerous break areas, meeting rooms, and reception spaces.

Although the building was well-organized with clear signage, Evelyn felt a wave of disorientation when she stepped off the elevator on the seventeenth floor. The unfamiliar layout confused her for a moment.

"Damn," Evelyn muttered under her breath. "If I'm late and disrupt this meeting, it will be a catastrophe."

Just as she was about to give up, she noticed a conference room door open nearby. A group of people filed out.

Instinctively, she moved toward them, intending to ask for directions to the main conference room.

But then she stopped. Her gaze was drawn into the room she was passing.

Her eyes locked onto a familiar face.

Was that... Alexander?