Chapter 1

Tags: Workplace Rumors, Secret Heiress, Identity Reveal, Revenge, Satisfying Slapdown

It was pouring the day I drove to work, and a male coworker spotted my car.

By lunchtime, he was spreading rumors that I was a kept woman with an old sugar daddy.

I confronted him right there in the office. "Did you actually see this old man?"

He leaned back in his chair with a greasy smirk. "It's just a joke. Why are you being so sensitive?"

I didn't argue. I just smiled.

My dad always told me to stay low-key and never flaunt our wealth.

The car I drove was already the most modest thing in our garage, but clearly, my family's actual wealth refused to stay hidden.

Fine. No more playing modest.

"How fast can you run?"

I pulled out my phone and looked straight at him.

"Because I'm about to have that 'sugar daddy' send ten bodyguards to rip your mouth apart."

The office fell dead silent for three seconds.

Harvey froze, then burst into roaring laughter, rocking back so hard his chair squeaked.

"Serena, you're hilarious. Bodyguards? Does your monthly paycheck even cover one bodyguard?"

He tossed his pen onto the desk and leaned forward. He dropped his voice, but kept it just loud enough for everyone around us to hear:

"I'm just stating facts. A girl from an ordinary family driving that kind of ride, wearing those designer clothes—who's going to believe you bought all that yourself?"

Looking at his smug, punchable face, I almost found it amusing.

My dad had always preached humility. Don't show off. Keep a low profile.

That was why I left the supercars sitting in our private garage and picked the most ordinary daily driver we owned.

Yet here I was, accused of having a sugar daddy.

Whatever.

"You say so, so it's true?" I slipped my phone into my pocket and leaned against my cubicle partition. "Where's your proof?"

Harvey scoffed. "Proof? Everyone in this building saw you pull up in that ride in the rain. That car easily goes for over a hundred grand. You've been here two years. You expect us to believe you bought it?"

"Just because you can't afford it doesn't mean I can't drive it."

"Then tell us, who bought it for you?"

His eyes gleamed with a filthy spark, like he'd already directed an entire dirty drama in his head.

I didn't answer.

At that moment, our department manager, Faye, walked down the hall with a stern face. "What's all the noise about? Don't you people have work to do?"

Harvey instantly wiped the smirk off his face, playing the nice guy. "Nothing, Faye. Just teasing Serena a bit."

Faye glanced at me, then at him, her tone impatient. "Alright, get back to work. The client expects the proposal by three. Do none of you have anything better to do?"

The small crowd dispersed.

As Harvey brushed past my desk, he leaned in, his voice hissing like a viper: "Serena, if you can't even take a joke, you won't last long in the corporate world."

I ignored him.

But I knew this wouldn't end here.

Sure enough.

At lunch, I heard whispers from the table next to mine in the cafeteria.

"Did you hear? Serena in Marketing is someone's sugar baby."

"Seriously?"

"Harvey said so. He saw someone drop her off in a luxury ride with his own eyes."

"No wonder. Her outfits never looked cheap."

"Ugh, so she's basically..."

My forks tapped against the rim of my bowl with a crisp clink.

I set down my forks, picked up my tray, and walked right over to their table.

The two girls from HR had been gossiping enthusiastically. When they saw me, their faces froze, the words dying in their throats.

"What are we talking about?" I smiled slightly. "Sounds fun. Mind sharing?"

One of the girls gave an awkward laugh. "Nothing... just talking about a TV show."

"Oh," I nodded. "What show? Does the lead happen to be Harvey?"

The two exchanged terrified looks, their cheeks burning bright red.

I didn't push further. I turned and walked away.

It wasn't that I didn't want to blow up. Blowing up right now was useless.

When dealing with rumor-mongers, the more frantic you get, the more validated they feel.

I needed a better plan.

That afternoon, while editing my proposal, my phone buzzed.

It was a text on SnapChat from my college roommate, Claire:

"Serena, are you trending in office gossip? My bestie works in the building next to yours, and she said people are saying you have a sugar daddy."

I stared at the screen for two seconds before typing back:

"News travels fast."

"Want me to cuss them out for you?"

"No need. I've got this."

"Cool. If you need backup, call me anytime."

I set the phone down and tapped my fingers on the desk.

In just one afternoon, the rumor had already crossed over to the neighboring tower.

Harvey's mouth was faster than a company-wide WhatsApp blast.

When I walked into the parking garage after work, I spotted Harvey leaning against my car, snapping photos with his phone.

Catching sight of me, he even waved his phone smugly. "Hey Serena, help me write a caption. How about 'Luxury ride gifted by an old man on a stormy day'?"

I walked up and snatched the phone straight out of his hand.

He blinked in shock. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Deleting photos."