Claire met her gaze head-on, her voice steady. “Yes, Lisa. I called the police.”
Lisa’s eyes widened in fury. “How could you? You’re going to ruin everything!”
Claire took a step closer, her expression unyielding. “Ruin what? Your suicide attempt?” Her face was cold, devoid of any sympathy. “Go on, Lisa. Perform your so-called suicide attempt.” Lisa’s face hardened. “Do you really want to see someone killed in your building? Think about how that will affect your company.”
Claire’s lips curled into a small smirk. “I can easily find another building. Demolish this one and build a new one somewhere else. It’s no big deal.”
Lisa clenched her fists in aggravation, pointing a finger at Claire. “Just because you’re rich doesn’t mean you can do anything you want.”
Claire chuckled. “Money can indeed make me do anything. Even if you married Alex, money can’t buy you class. You’ll always be the same old Lisa from the countryside.”
Lisa’s eyes widened, shocked that Claire knew about her past. “How did you find out about that?”
Claire shrugged, teasingly. “It’s not hard to find out anything when you have money.”
Lisa had enough. Her rage boiled over as she lunged at Claire, causing them both to fall to the floor with Lisa on top.
Claire struggled underneath Lisa, trying to push her off. “Get off me, Lisa!”
Lisa’s hands tightened around Claire’s wrists, her eyes burning with anger. “Why are you doing this to me, Claire? What did I ever do to you?”
Claire managed to free one hand and shoved Lisa hard, trying to regain control. “You know exactly what you did, Lisa.”
Matthew, who witnessed the attack, quickly rushed over and grabbed Lisa, trying to pull her off Claire. But Lisa was stubborn, her hands tightening around Claire’s neck.
“Die!” Lisa screamed, her eyes wild with rage.
Claire punched Lisa’s face that resulting her grasp to loosen, and Matthew took this opportunity to pulled Lisa harshly, finally prying her hands away from Claire’s neck and gripping her arms tightly behind her back to prevent her from escaping. Claire coughed, glaring at Lisa as she struggled to her feet. “Are you trying to kill me again, Lisa?” she spat out, her voice hoarse.
“You ruin my life!” she snapped.
“You kept saying that. I’m tired hearing all your shit.” Claire felt a stung on her fist since she didn’t punched the right way.
At that moment, the police arrived and quickly secured Lisa, escorting her away as she yelled, “It’s not my fault! It’s Claire’s fault! All of this is Claire’s fault!”
Matthew walked over to Claire, his expression filled with concern. “Are you okay?”
Claire nodded weakly. “I’m fine, Matt. Don’t you worry. It’s nothing.” she managed to say.
“What a punch!” Matthew complemented Claire. She then took a step forward, her vision blurred, and she fainted.
Matthew caught her in haste, shouting her name in shock. “Claire! Claire, wake up!”
Sandra, who had been nearby, rushed over, panic crossing her face. “What’s wrong with Ms. Peterson? Did Lisa do this to her?”
Matthew lifted Claire up in a bridal style, his face set with determination. “Sandra, take care of the rest. Make sure Lisa doesn’t get out of the police station,” he said in a serious tone.
Sandra nodded, her worry evident. “Yes, I’ll handle it. Just get Claire some help.”
Matthew carried Claire out of the rooftop and made his way to her office, moving quickly but carefully.
As Matthew make his way through the hallway, some employees saw Claire fainted. A looked of surprise and concern etched on their faces. They whispering among themselves.
“Is she going to be, okay?” one of them asked.
“I hope so,” another replied.
“I wonder what happen up there.”
“Poor Ms. Peterson.” Another employee chimed in.
Matthew ignored them as he entered Claire’s office and gently laid her down on the couch. He grabbed his phone and called for medical assistance, his voice urgent. “We need a medic in Ms. Peterson’s office immediately.”
Alex sat in a cozy corner of the
restaurant, enjoying the lively banter
with his colleagues. They were all in good spirits, laughing heartily at their latest topic of conversation The sound of laughter filled the room, blending with the clinking of cutlery and the hum of conversation from other diners.
One of his colleagues, Jason, suddenly opened his phone and his face shifted from amusement to surprise. “Hey, Alex,” Mark said, interrupting the laughter. “Isn’t this Metacortex?”
Alex, still chuckling, took the phone from Mark’s hand and looked at the screen. He nodded. “Yeah, that’s Metacortex. Why?”
Mark’s expression turned serious. “There’s news about someone attempting suicide at Metacortex.”
The word “suicide” hit Alex like a punch. “What do you mean, suicide?”
Mark gestured to the phone. “Check the news yourself.”
Alex quickly pulled out his own phone, navigating to the headline news. Sure enough, there was a report about someone standing on the rooftop of Metacortex,
threatening to jump. The detal ne
were vague, but the situation was
clearly dire. Alex scrolled through the article until he came across a
slightly blurry photo.
The angle and the figure looked disturbingly familiar. He squinted at the screen, trying to place the person. Then it hit him. It was Lisa.
Alex’s heart raced. He quickly stood up from his seat, his face pale. “I have to go,” he said urgently.
His colleagues barely had time to react before Alex dashed out of the restaurant. He climbed inside his car in haste.
“Metacortex, and make it quick,” Alex instructed the driver.
The driver nodded and sped off, weaving through traffic.
Alex couldn’t sit still, his thoughts a whirlwind of worry and confusion. He doesn’t have a good feeling about the situation, and he worry if Lisa tried to do something to Claire.
Minutes felt like hours as the taxi sped through the city.
Alex arrived at Metacortex and quickly jumped out of his car, striding purposefully towards the building’s entrance. He had no time to waste. As he approached the reception desk, he was already bracing himself for the usual hassle. “Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you?” the receptionist asked politely, though there was a hint of wariness in her eyes.
“I need a guest card,” Alex said, his tone brisk.
“Do you have an appointment with Ms. Peterson?” the receptionist asked, her fingers poised over the keyboard.
Alex’s face twisted in annoyance. “I need to see Claire. I’m Alex Harris, CEO of Harris Company.”
The receptionist’s demeanor shifted immediately. Knowing that Metacortex and Harris Company were collaborators, she quickly handed him a guest card. “Of course, Mr. Harris. Here you go.”
Alex snatched the card from her hand and muttered, “Thank you,” before making his way to the lift. As he walked, he muttered to himself, “I hate the protocol in this place.”
Inside the lift, Alex slid the guest
card and pressed the button for Claire’s office. The ride up felt interminably slow, each floor passed adding to his irritation. When the doors finally opened, he stepped out and headed straight for Claire’s office, not bothering to knock. He burst through the door, his expression determined.
“Where’s Lisa?” he demanded, his voice echoing in the office.