Part 2Fake Data, Locked Archive And My Counterattack

Tabitha's screech echoed right through the blinds, filling the entire floor.

I kept my head bowed, letting her launch into her tirade.

"I don't think you're cut out for this job at all!" Tabitha took a sharp breath, attempting to steady her voice. "Given how crucial this client is, I can't leave this in the hands of an amateur."

She tapped her intercom. "Bianca, get in here."

In less than ten seconds, the door opened. Bianca stepped inside, looking as innocent as a lamb. "You called, Tabitha?"

Tabitha pointed at me. "From this moment on, you are taking over the Easton project. Fiona will assist you."

Bianca immediately put on a show of shock and deep hesitation. "Oh, Tabitha, I don't know... Fiona has been pulling late nights for this."

"She doesn't know a damn thing!" Tabitha snapped. "It's decided. You'll lead the pitch tomorrow. Don't let me down."

Bianca bit her lip, turning to look at me with a look of profound apology. "Well... alright. I'll do my best to teach Fiona along the way."

The chat bar across my vision went into overdrive:

[Wow, she really is the queen of green teas. Just like that, she steals the project.]

[She's dying to show off in front of the CEO, but she plays the reluctant victim so perfectly.]

[The original character was such a pushover. She literally thanked people for stabbing her in the back.]

As I stared at Bianca's delicate, concerned face, a sharp throb flared in my head. It was a memory from the original host of this body.

Three months ago, during the Eastside development bid, she had worked three consecutive all-nighters, compiling an incredible proposal. The night before the submission, she stepped away to wash her face. When she returned, her flash drive was gone.

The next morning, Bianca presented her exact proposal. When the original host confronted her, Bianca cried a river of tears in front of Tabitha, whimpering, "Tabitha, I swear I wrote this myself. Fiona must be confused... I don't know why she's claiming it."

When she demanded to see the security footage, the head of security simply sneered, "The cameras in that sector were down for maintenance. We have nothing."

Tabitha had spent thirty minutes screaming at her for being malicious and jealous, stripping her of her monthly bonus and making her the laughingstock of the office.

The sheer suffocation and despair of that memory still burned in my chest. I took a slow breath, locking the emotion away.

"Are you listening to me?" Tabitha snapped, rapping her knuckles on the desk. "You follow Bianca's lead from now on."

I nodded. "Understood."

The moment we stepped out, Mandy rushed over to drape an arm around Bianca's shoulders. "I knew it! A massive account like Easton needs real talent to carry it."

Bianca sighed softly, leaning on Mandy. "The pressure is so intense. I have to review everything from scratch."

She turned to me, lifting a stack of paper receipts nearly two feet high and dumping them into my arms. "Fiona, could you verify these reimbursement slips and invoices for any typos? Take your time, we just want to make sure there are no errors."

A pile of useless scrap paper.

She was not only hijacking my work; she wanted to keep me entirely occupied with busywork so I couldn't salvage my own standing.

I calmly accepted the stack. "Sure."

Back at my desk, I spread the receipts out. While my fingers appeared to sift through paper, my keyboard was flying as I ran the core scripts retrieved from the private servers.

The true financial structure of Easton Properties took shape in my mind. Not only were their earnings fabricated, but they were also carrying massive, unrecorded high-interest loans. Once their credit dried up, they would fall off a cliff.

The hours ticked by. As the office emptied out for the evening, Bianca stood up and stretched. "Fiona, are you done with those receipts yet?"

"Almost," I said without looking up.

Bianca walked over, picking up a folder. "I'm heading down to the archive room to look up some old case studies. Do you want to come along? Maybe you'll find some inspiration."

I stopped typing and stood up. "Sure."

The archives were at the very end of the corridor, a dimly lit space crowded with dusty filing cabinets that barely anyone visited. The moment I stepped inside, a sharp click echoed behind me.

The door swung shut. I turned around and rattled the handle.

Locked from the outside.

Bianca's airy voice drifted through the thick wood. "It's nice and quiet in there, Fiona. You can take the whole night to find your inspiration."