Chapter 162

Liam’s POV

“Perhaps what you’ve done hasn’t been outwardly illegal or criminal,” Mr. Gunner said. “Yet. But if you continue to act the way you have, so unrestrained and hostile to your own employees, you are inviting your own lawsuit.”

“They can bring it on,” Joanna said, huffing an annoyed breath. “I am one of the richest women in the country. They think I can’t hire the best lawyers? No one is getting a nickel out of me.”

“Charming,” Mr. Gunner said. He tried to turn his attention back to me, but Joanna was never one to back down, even in her best interest. So she pressed forward, bringing focus back onto herself.

“Let me make one thing very clear to you, Mr. Gunner. I am only ‘vindictive’ against those who try to stand against me. Those that know their place and treat me with respect have no reason to fear me. I will not change the ways that have worked for me in the past and continue to work for me in present. I was brought on to do a job here, and I am doing that job.”

I decided not to bring up the fact that Joanna was only specifically brought on to do this job because she had paid for it, becoming one of the major stakeholders in the company. Mentioning that would likely only extend her tirade.

With the look that passed between Mr. Gunner and me, though, I gathered he had the same thoughts. As an investigator, he would have had access to the records and the numbers. He would have seen that Joanna bought her way in when the team was strapped for cash.

“I will not change, Mr. Gunner,” she continued, seemingly winding down. “Not for you. Not for anyone.”

“Very well, Joanna,” Mr. Gunner said, as if trying to wrap up this conversation.

Joanna wasn’t having it though, needing to be the ever-center of the conversation.

“Need I remind you, Mr. Gunner, that you were only brought on to investigate the cheating this team had been falsely accused of,” Joanna said. “Instead of doing that, you have stuck your nose into matters that do not concern you.”

“That’s enough, Joanna,” I said. Even I’d had enough now, and I was still trying to stay on her good side.

“I can update you on that as well,” Mr. Gunner said.

“Oh?” I looked back at him with renewed interest.

“I’ve found no evidence of cheating,” Mr. Gunner said. “More, I believe the entire accusation was made in bad faith.”

Immediately, as relief flooded me, I exhaled. A heavy weight seemed to disappear off of my shoulders. I hadn’t realize how worried I had been about this. I knew my father capable of orchestrating accusations, but I didn’t know if he had somehow managed to breach the team itself.

Knowing he had yet to infiltrate inside the team put years back on my life.

“That’s great news,” I said. “Thank you, Mr. Gunner.”

He nodded stiffly. “It will all be in my report.”

Really, I couldn’t have imagined better news.

My first instinct? I wanted to tell Aria.

I hated that I had to wait until the end of the day.

Aria’s POV

I knew, in my heart, that Liam’s decision to combine offices was the right one. No one was working in the meeting rooms and hallways anymore. And I wasn’t so hot and cramped as I’d been down in the boiler room.

That being said…

My roommate Anthony was the ultimate test of patience.

He was fresh out of college but already acting like he owned the place. And he treated me like trash, all while being utterly insufferable about it.

“You don’t mind if I have more of the office, right, Aria?”

“You don’t need so much light, do you? I like to look at the screen in the dark.”

“Honestly, I think you probably preferred working in the meeting rooms, right? You should tell Liam you want to go back there.”

It was with great restraint that I rejected all of his ideas and made my own boundaries, maintaining politeness each time.

“I have just as many things as you do,” I said, “So I need as much of the office as you.” In fact, technically, I needed more because of my filing cabinets. But I wasn’t going to push my luck.

“I need light so I can see my paperwork,” I insisted. “If you like the screen in the dark, you can turn it away from my light.”

“I did not prefer working in the boiler room,” I said. “I need my own space, and this is just enough to be perfect.” Another lie. I could use the whole office, but I was willing to share.

Unlike Anthony, who looked like he sucked on a sour grape each time I replied.

“For both our sakes, I hope you find some other place to spend most of your time,” he said, vaguely threatening.

I wasn’t intimidated by him. He was short and thin, and so very young. He was underestimating me for reasons I didn’t quite understand, but in time he would learn. We all learned valuable lessons at our first real job. Sometimes hard lessons.

Even with our disagreements, I never felt particularly unsafe leaving my things behind in the office. After all, I was the one Anthony despised, not my work.

Or so I thought.

Yet when I returned to the office after working with the drivers on the track, I found that over half of the office supplies on my desk had mysteriously vanished.

“Anthony,” I said.

He had his headphones on and couldn’t hear me. Walking to his desk, I rapped my knuckles on the end of it, drawing his attention upwards.

“Anthony,” I said, more insistently.

Finally he glanced up at me. Removing his headphones, he had the gall to look annoyed. “What?”

“What happened to my desk?” I asked him.

“What are you talking about?”

“My cup with my pens and pencils,” I said. “It’s all gone.”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “I’m not in charge of your things, Aria. Maybe you are slipping in your old age.”

Only with the patience that I’d learned from being a mother, did I stop from retaliating against that remark. Whether by chewing him out or otherwise, I held myself back.

“I need my supplies, Anthony.”

“So you are accusing me, now?”

I looked around. “No one else is here.”

“That’s low, Aria. I had thought we were building up a rapport.”

“I just need my supplies. Please stop playing these childish games.”

“You are the one making blatant accusations.”

Looking down, I noticed that he was currently using one of my pens.

“That’s mine,” I said. “Please give it back.”

“Prove it’s yours,” Anthony replied.

With a sigh, I brought my finger closer, pointing to the side of it. “It has my name on it.”

There in cursive script was written, Aria.

Anthony frowned, noticing. “It’s a bad pen anyway,” he said and tossed it aside. It fell onto the floor beside my desk.

“And the rest?” I said.

He rolled his eyes. “In your desk drawer.”

“Thank you,” I said, turning away.

The moment my back was turned, he grumbled, “Dumb bitch.”