Part 3My Colleague Offered Me $50 For My Designer Bag

Mandy didn’t confront me again in the following days, but my life at the company became significantly harder.

The design project I was in charge of was for none other than Mandy’s “L&M Group.” It was a massive account, and nearly all the company’s resources were being directed toward it.

But my work was being blocked at every turn.

The data I needed from Admin was perpetually “in processing.” For three days straight.

The samples I requested from Purchasing were suddenly “out of stock” from the supplier, with no new shipment until next month.

Even the printer seemed to have a personal vendetta against me, jamming every single time I tried to use it.

My colleagues in the design department saw it all, but no one dared to say a word. They just gave me sympathetic looks.

Director Lee called me in once more, hinting that I should try to “make peace” with Mandy.

My only response was, “It wasn’t my fault. I won’t apologize.”

He gave up on me after that, adopting a hands-off approach.

I ignored the petty sabotage and poured all my energy into the design proposal. I knew it was my only chance to prove myself.

Friday was the final project review.

I walked into the conference room, my arms full with a thick binder of schematics and a physical model.

As head of sales, Mandy was, of course, present. When she saw me, a malicious smile curled her lips.

Ten minutes before the meeting started, I went to the breakroom for a glass of water. On my way back, I ran into someone right at the conference room door.

It was Mandy.

She was holding a steaming cup of coffee. It tilted, and the entire scalding contents spilled directly onto the design proposal in my arms. The white paper instantly soaked up the dark brown liquid, wrinkling and warping.

“Oh my god! Lily, I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

Mandy’s mouth said sorry, but her eyes showed no remorse. She even made a show of grabbing a napkin. “Here, let me help you clean it up…”

Her hand smeared across the wet pages, transforming the soaked drawings into a blurry, indecipherable mess.

The room was utterly silent.

Everyone stared. Director Lee’s face was so dark it looked like it was about to storm. Everyone knew how important this project was. With the proposal destroyed, weeks of work had just gone down the drain.

They all thought I was finished.

Mandy’s eyes gleamed with triumph, waiting for my inevitable breakdown.

But it never came.

I just stared at her, my face a blank mask, as she finished her little performance. Then, I reached into my laptop bag and pulled out a USB flash drive.

“It’s a good thing I have a backup,” I said, my calm voice echoing in the quiet room.

The smile on Mandy’s face froze solid.

I walked past her and whispered, so low that only she could hear, “By the way, Mandy, I think they just installed a new security camera in the breakroom. HD. With audio.”

I saw the color drain from her face. For the first time, her eyes flickered with genuine panic.

During that review, I delivered a flawless presentation using my digital backup. My design concept and proposal received unanimous approval from all the senior executives, including the Vice President who had flown in from headquarters specifically for the meeting.

When it was over, Mandy was the first one out of the room, practically stumbling over her own feet.

Back at my desk, my phone buzzed.

It was a text from an unknown number.

“I need that bag tonight.”

“Or next time, it won’t be coffee I spill on you.”