Chapter Four – Sabotage
(Staff Room – 9:25 a.m)
Angel
Carolina didn’t waste time.
"This will be your desk," she said, pointing to a small table against the wall. "You’ll organize files, make copies, and if there’s time left, learn how to make coffee."
I smiled, sugar-sweet and venomous.
"Lucky me, having you as my mentor."
She ignored the jab.
"Lucas likes his coffee at 9:30 sharp. Don’t be late."
"Lucas, Lucas, Lucas," I murmured, feigning interest. "He must be amazing at... everything, huh?"
Carolina’s eyes narrowed.
"He’s professional. Something you clearly don’t understand."
"Oh, come on, Carol. Give me a chance," I said, leaning in. "Who knows, maybe I’ll learn some... private lessons from him?"
She went pale.
"You’re disgusting."
Mission accomplished.
I sat down at the makeshift desk with the ease of someone about to commit a crime. Carolina was already back at her keyboard, typing like she was drafting a peace treaty between hostile nations.
"Here," she said, turning around with a rehearsed smile. "I need you to revise this report before we send it to Legal. Everything’s there, it just needs to be organized and formatted to match company standards."
She placed the folder on my desk with the grace of someone offering a gift. A poisoned one, of course. I picked up the material, trying to maintain my posture.
"And what’s the company format? Is there a template or maybe a manual…?"
"Of course, I’ll send it to you by email."
She smiled, turned back to her computer, and pretended to send me something. I saw her fingers typing and then deleting before she hit “send.”
Perfect. I tried not to lose it. I opened the folder, read the reports, and gave it my best shot. I did what seemed logical.
Fifty minutes later, I handed it back to her. Carolina flipped through the material with the most neutral expression on Earth, then sighed, like she was drained.
"Angel…" she started, in a voice so sugary it made me nauseous, "this is completely off-format. Legal would never accept this."
I stared at her like she’d just complained about the clouds being misaligned in the sky.
"You didn’t send me the template. I asked."
"I did send it."
I laughed. A dry, short bark of a laugh.
Lucas appeared at the doorway at exactly that moment.
"Is there a problem?"
"Nothing," Carolina said before I could open my mouth. "Angel’s just getting familiar with our procedures. Everything’s under control."
He shot me a quick look. I must’ve looked like I wanted to strangle someone with a stapler.
"Angel?" he asked, bluntly.
I swallowed what I wanted to say and forced a smile.
"All under control. Just like she said."
Lucas didn’t buy it. But he also didn’t press. He returned to his office without another word. And I realized Carolina played the game very well.
Worse: she knew exactly how to make me look like the problem.
And this was just the beginning.
Two hours later, I was already convinced Carolina hated me more than cold coffee.
She passed by my desk every half hour to point out imaginary mistakes. She corrected the tone of emails I hadn’t even sent. She made a point of saying, “The company values a professional image” when I adjusted my hair with my hands, like it was some sort of federal offense.
The only break I had was to grab a coffee, which I deliberately served in the tackiest mug I could find in the breakroom cabinet. I walked back to my desk with a glitter-covered cup in one hand and pure homicidal intent in the other.
Carolina was on the phone, using that sweet voice she reserved only for people who mattered, which didn’t include me. She pretended not to see me pass, but I felt her eyes on my back, like she was waiting for me to trip so she could silently laugh.
I sat back down and pretended to work. My eyes bounced between the screen and the reception. I didn’t trust her. Not even a little.
Then, at 11:37 a.m., Carolina stood up.
She adjusted her blazer with rehearsed care, grabbed a small folder, and walked straight into Lucas’s office. Two quick knocks and she entered.
The door shut behind her.
I froze for a moment. This is it, I thought.
I knew her type. The sideways glance she gave when Lucas walked by. The way her voice subtly softened when she spoke to him. The way she looked at me was like I was a wrong note in the perfect symphony she had orchestrated there.
She wanted me gone. She wanted me to fail. And she was probably in there right now pitching the idea that I was a liability. A burden. A mistake.
I gripped the mug so tightly that I almost broke the handle. She’s going to complain about me. She’s going to try to get me out of here.
Every minute she spent in that room ate away at me.
I knew I wasn’t supposed to care. None of it was mine.
But there was something about that silent game that irritated me more than I wanted to admit.
And deep down, what bothered me most was not knowing what he was going to say.
Eleven minutes.
That’s how long she was in there.
Carolina walked out of Lucas’s office with the expression of someone who doesn’t smile, but wins. Her posture was straight, and the folder was held to her chest like a trophy.
She didn’t look at me. Walked right past.
And that said more than any words ever could.
She knew I would notice. That was part of the show.
My throat went dry. My hand gripped the mug tightly again.
It felt like the floor had started to tilt slowly, and I was the only one who could feel it.
A few minutes later, the message came:
"Lucas wants to see you."
I turned slowly, standing up from my chair with care, like any sudden movement might make everything fall apart even faster.
But if Carolina thought she was going to beat me that easily, she was dead wrong.
She had no idea how persistent I could be when I wanted something.
And right now, I wanted to prove I could do this.
With determination, I grabbed the doorknob to Lucas’s office and walked in.
Without knocking.