Chapter 5 The Mistress’s Fate

Cheryl laughed bitterly in rage.

Whatever. She was leaving anyway. Whoever wanted this mess could have it.

Compared to Andrew's overseas resources, the domestic supply chain was nothing.

"Fine by me." Cheryl didn't even blink. She walked straight to the desk, completely ignoring Jasmine's presence.

She bent down, unplugged the power cord, closed the silver laptop, and slipped it into her bag.

She'd bought this laptop in her junior year with money from working three jobs. It held not only her design drafts from the past few years, but also her personal inspiration journals and sketches—the entirety of her fashion design career.

Seeing this, Jasmine immediately pressed her hand on the laptop. "Cheryl, Zachary said everything here has to be transferred to me. What are you doing? This is company property. You can't just take it."

Cheryl's icy stare made Jasmine flinch and pull back her hand.

"Jasmine, get this straight—this is my personal laptop, not company property. Get your filthy hands off it."

"But..." Jasmine looked at Zachary with wounded eyes.

"Zachary, this laptop has all the core design files for company projects, right? What if Cheryl sells them to our competitors?"

Zachary frowned and stepped forward, grabbing the other end of the laptop.

"Put it down." His tone was cold. "You're not taking this laptop."

Cheryl looked up, eyes red, staring at the man who'd once promised to protect her forever.

"Zachary, this is my own laptop. It has all my design work! You can take the projects, but this—I have to take this!"

"I said put it down!" Zachary didn't listen to her explanation.

His grip tightened.

The two of them struggled violently across the desk.

Jasmine stood to the side, a triumphant smirk tugging at her lips.

She suddenly reached out, pretending to help. "Cheryl, don't be like this. Let go."

The moment her hand touched the laptop, she deliberately pressed down hard, just as Zachary yanked it back.

Cheryl's hand slipped unexpectedly.

The three opposing forces instantly lost balance.

The laptop crashed heavily to the floor.

Bang!

The silver casing slammed against the hard marble floor with a sickening crunch.

The screen shattered instantly, splintering like a pale spiderweb. Components scattered, sliding into the corner beneath the desk.

The colleagues eavesdropping outside the door exchanged shocked looks.

"Ah!" Jasmine covered her mouth and stumbled back two steps, tears instantly pooling in her eyes.

"Cheryl, I'm so sorry! I really didn't mean to! I was just worried you'd take company secrets. I was trying to help hold it steady. I don't know how it just..."

She tugged at Zachary's sleeve, her voice trembling.

Cheryl didn't care about Jasmine's two-faced act.

She just looked at Zachary.

Her once clear, detached eyes now churned with indescribable pain and despair.

That laptop held more than her youth.

It held countless sleepless nights with bloodshot eyes, every design she'd painstakingly sketched line by line—the soul of her work.

Yet Zachary, looking at the wreckage, showed no guilt. Instead, he frowned impatiently.

He pulled Jasmine protectively behind him and looked down at Cheryl with contempt and condescension.

"Enough with that funeral face. Who are you trying to impress? It's just a broken laptop. What could possibly be so valuable on it? It's smashed—so what? I'll buy you ten top-of-the-line replacements!"

Zachary snorted coldly, continuing matter-of-factly, "Besides, it's better this way. My wife doesn't need to be working in public anyway."

"You should stay home where you belong and be a housewife. Isn't the tens of thousands in monthly allowance enough for you? Why do you insist on stirring up trouble at the office and making everyone miserable?"

Hearing these words, Cheryl felt a wave of grief crash over her.

She couldn't help but think back five years.

Back then, Zachary had just taken over the family business. His foundation was shaky, enemies on all sides.

It was her—she'd given up the chance to study in Emerald City. She'd brought her design team to work day and night on blueprints.

She'd single-handedly launched several industry-shaking hits that stabilized the company's cash flow.

Back then, he'd held her tightly, eyes red, and said, "Cheryl, your talent is priceless. I swear, I'll build you a fashion empire of your own."

And now?

Now that he was successful, he thought her talent was just "stirring up trouble."

Cheryl lowered her head, staring at the ruined laptop on the floor. Suddenly, she let out a soft, bitter laugh.

What Zachary didn't know was that this personal laptop held more than just her design sketches.

It also contained the complete design files for three major projects the company was bidding on next month.

Because the company intranet had been upgrading recently, she'd saved everything locally to meet deadlines. She hadn't even backed it up to the cloud.

In other words, this laptop held the company's lifeline for the second half of the year.

Before, she would've panicked.

But now?

Screw it.

If he wanted to treat her life's work like trash, let him clean up the mess himself.

Cheryl looked at them, then picked up a pen from the desk and scrawled a few lines.

She slammed the paper down hard on the desk.

"No need to replace it."

Cheryl's voice was eerily calm. "Zachary, since you love giving my things away so much, I'll gift her these projects—and this director position—too."

Zachary's gaze darkened. He stared at the A4 paper with "Resignation Letter" written across the top. An inexplicable panic flickered in his chest.

"Cheryl, what tantrum are you throwing now? Threatening me with resignation?"

Cheryl sneered, her eyes full of disdain. "Didn't you just say Mrs. Francis doesn't need to work in public? Changed your mind already?"

Zachary's face turned red and white.

Without another word, she turned and walked out.

Jasmine watched Cheryl's retreating figure, wild joy flashing in her eyes.

She could barely suppress the triumphant smile tugging at her lips.

She'd won.

She'd finally driven Cheryl out.

From today on, this luxurious private office and all those high-profile projects that would make her famous in the design world—they were all hers.

She deliberately leaned sweetly against Zachary. "Zachary, Cheryl has such a temper. Has she been planning to abandon you all along...?"

Before Jasmine could finish, the half-open glass door was suddenly kicked open with violent force.

"Abandon your ass!"

A sharp curse rang out as a young woman in a Chanel suit stormed in, radiating fury.

It was Zachary's younger sister—Pearl Francis.

Pearl had come to pick up a custom dress Cheryl had made for her.

But as soon as she stepped off the elevator, she'd heard a cluster of employees whispering about how the CEO had disabled his wife's access card for his mistress and forced her to hand over all her projects.

She was livid.

"Pearl?" Zachary frowned at his sister's sudden intrusion.

But Pearl didn't even look at Zachary. She stared at Jasmine, still clinging to her brother.

"So that's it! I knew Cheryl wouldn't just leave. It's because of you, you shameless homewrecker!"

Pearl had a fiery temper and had been close to Cheryl since childhood. She'd hated this two-faced snake for ages.

Without hesitation, she lunged forward and grabbed a fistful of Jasmine's hair before she could react.

"What are you doing?! Let go!" Jasmine shrieked.

"What am I doing? I'm delivering justice and teaching you what happens to mistresses!"