The Battle in the Office novel

Clutching the freshly printed meeting minutes, I stood outside the director's office door and took a deep breath.
From the end of the corridor came the crisp tap of high heels, sharp and carrying a note of swagger.
That was Mary Scott, the company's newly assigned project leader, rumored to have a remarkable background.
She wore a well-tailored white skirt suit, holding a cup of steaming hand-poured coffee, and strode straight to Kevin Lewis's desk.
"Kevin, I look forward to your guidance on our work from now on." Her voice had an intentionally sweet softness as she gently set the coffee down in front of Kevin Lewis.
Without even looking up, Kevin Lewis kept tapping on the keyboard, his tone cold as ice: "Company policy forbids discussing personal matters during work hours. Take your coffee and leave."
Mary Scott's smile froze for a moment, a flicker of embarrassment flashing in her eyes, but she forced herself to pull back her hand and maintain her composure.
I happened to push the door open to deliver some documents and caught the scene, so I instinctively lowered my head.
At the time, I didn't realize this unpleasant first encounter would make me the target of Mary's misplaced anger.
The microwave in the pantry dinged. I got up to pick up my reheated lunch, and as I turned around, I was suddenly bumped into head-on.
It was Mary Scott, and the lemonade in her hand splashed all over me, soaking most of the monthly report I was holding.
"Ah, I'm really sorry," she said, but there wasn't a hint of remorse in her eyes. "How can you be so careless walking?"
I stared at the blurred writing on the paper, growing anxious. This was an important file that Kevin Lewis needed to review this afternoon.
Yet Mary Scott, in her high heels, left the pantry without so much as a glance back, leaving me to clean up the mess in a sorry state.
What was worse happened at the project review meeting.
I stayed up late for three nights preparing the PPT in advance, but when it was my turn to present, the projector screen was completely blank.
In a panic, I checked my computer and found the file had been maliciously deleted; there wasn't even a trace in the recycle bin.
All eyes in the room were on mesome sympathetic, some just watching the drama unfold, and then there was Mary Scott, with a barely perceptible smirk at the corner of her mouth.
Kevin Lewis frowned, told me to sit down, and rearranged the presentation order on the spot.
After the meeting, he pulled me asidenot to blame me, but just to ask me to redo the report and have it ready for him tomorrow.
I thought the matter was settled until the performance review came out at the end of the month, and Mary Scott's team was docked ten points.
Later, I only learned from colleagues that it was Kevin Lewis who found the backend records of the file deletion and directly deducted points from their team.
Mary Scott clearly pinned the blame on me, and her harassment only grew worse.
She would intentionally make me submit a ten-thousand-word report five minutes before clocking out, and sneakily remove pages from the materials I had prepared, causing me to embarrass myself when dealing with clients.
And Kevin Lewis, whenever he caught Mary Scott's sly tactics, would respond by docking performance points.
They never argued, but a silent power struggle had formed between them.
Stuck in the middle, I felt like an innocent scapegoat, living carefully every day.

The year-end Celebration Banquet was held at the city's most luxurious hotel, filled with elegant fragrances and lively mingling, glasses clinking.
I don't really like such noisy occasions, so I used the excuse of going to the restroom to find a quiet place to catch my breath.
Just as I reached the Fire Escape door, someone grabbed my wrist from behind.
It was Mary Scott; her face was flushed from drinking, yet her eyes were unusually clear, and she held a glass of red wine in her hand.
"Do you really think Kevin Lewis helping you means he's interested in you?" Her tone was sharp, dripping with sarcasm.
I struggled to pull my hand away, but she gripped even tighter.
Before I could say a word, a glass of ice-cold red wine was poured over my head.
The red wine trickled down my hair and cheeks, soaking my gown; the sticky feeling made me utterly uncomfortable.
I heard the shutter click of a phone cameraMary Scott was holding her phone, smugly capturing my ruined look.
"What are you doing?" I snapped, furious and shaking with anxiety.
"It's nothing, I just think you look pretty perfect for posting on social media like this." Mary Scott's smile grew increasingly smug.
At that moment, the Fire Escape door swung open, and Kevin Lewis stood in the doorway, his face dark and severely grim.
"Enough." His voice was low, carrying undeniable authority.
Mary Scott, seeing Kevin Lewis, dialed back some of her smugness but still defiantly said, "Kevin, she was the one who started it."
Kevin didn't look at her; his eyes settled on me, complexwith guilt, concern, and a trace of struggle I couldn't quite grasp.
"Delete the photo." He said to Mary Scott.
"Why should I?" Mary Scott pouted, sounding almost coquettish, "But we are..."
"Delete it." Kevin Lewis interrupted her, his tone growing more forceful.
Reluctantly, Mary Scott deleted the photo but still left me with a parting shot: "Just you wait."
With that, she turned and ran off.
Only Kevin Lewis and I were left in the Fire Escape; the silence was suffocating.
I kept my head down, unable to meet his gaze, my breath heavy with alcohol, feeling utterly humiliated.
"Why?" I heard my own voice come out dryly, "You clearly know she's targeting me, so why don't you stop it?"
Kevin Lewis was silent for a moment, then slowly said, "She... was just being impulsive."
"Just impulsive?" I looked up at him, my eyes filling with tears, "And what about me? Am I supposed to just take this bullying from her?"
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end, said nothing.
At that moment, I remembered what Mary Scott hadn't finished saying earlier, and thought about the unclear, unspoken relationship between them.
Maybe they really are a couple; that argument just now was nothing more than a little quirk between lovers.
And I am just an insignificant casualty in their relationship.
The thought was like a cold blade piercing my heart, sending a shiver deep into my bones.
I looked at Kevin Lewis, my eyes full of disappointment and despair. "I understand," I said.
With that, I turned and ran down the Fire Escape, not wanting to see the face that broke my heart any longer.

After the Celebration Banquet, everything changed.
Kevin Lewis no longer came to my aid when Mary Scott made things difficult for me.
Instead, he started nitpicking me in every aspect of work.
The market analysis report I stayed up three nights to finish was sent back by him for rewriting, with the reason being "illogical and unclear data."
But I clearly followed the format and standards he had previously requested, even more thorough than the last report that received praise.
I went to him to ask exactly what needed to be changed, and he just said coldly, "Figure it out yourself."
That kind of indifference hurt me more than Mary Scott's nitpicking.
There was also one time when the company arranged for me to go on a business trip out of town to coordinate a key project the first time since I joined that I had such an opportunity, and I was overjoyed and well-prepared.
But the day before we were supposed to leave, Kevin Lewis suddenly told me the business trip was downgraded to an online meeting, and the spot that was mine was given to a newcomer from Mary Scott's team.
I confronted him, and his reason was, "You don't have enough experience; this project needs someone more reliable to handle the coordination."
I looked at his expressionless face, a cold numbness settling in my chest.
He used to praise me for being careful and dependable, and now he dismisses me with a flimsy excuse like that.
Mary's gaze was filled with sick satisfaction, as if saying, "See? Without Kevin Lewis, you're nothing."
The relationship between Kevin Lewis and me has become increasingly tense and fragile.
In the office, we hardly speak; when our eyes do meet, we quickly look away.
His silence is like an invisible mountain pressing down on me, making it hard to breathe.
Mary Scott's harassment hasn't stopped; she's even stepped it up, deliberately embarrassing me in public.
Once, during a department meeting, she accused me in front of everyone of poor client feedback and claimed I was holding up the project.
But the truth is, the client's feedback was actually very positive; she was deliberately twisting the facts.
I wanted to explain, but Kevin Lewis spoke first: "I know about this, I'll be more careful next time."
He didn't give me a chance to defend myself and tacitly accepted Mary Scott's accusation.
In that moment, I was completely disheartened.
I couldn't hold back any longer; after the meeting, I stopped Kevin Lewis and pulled him into the Fire Escape.
"Kevin Lewis, what exactly do you mean?" I looked at him, tears welling up uncontrollably. "Why are you treating me like this? Is it because of Mary? What exactly is your relationship with her?"
My string of questions was met with only his silence.
He leaned against the wall, head down, his expression unreadable, completely silent.
"Say something!" I choked out. "Even if you told me you like her, that you want to protect her, I'd accept it! But why stay silent? Your silence hurts more than any knife!"
He still didn't say a word; only my sobs and heavy breathing filled the air.
I watched his indifferent face, and the last shred of hope in my heart crumbled.
In this suffocating environment, amidst these stifling relationships, I can't hold on any longer.
Back at my desk, I opened my computer and began writing my resignation letter.
As I typed the words "Resignation Application," my hands trembled, yet I felt a strange sense of relief inside.
The next day, I submitted my resignation to the Human Resources Department.
The moment I stepped out of the Human Resources office, I took a deep breath, feeling as if a huge weight pressing on my chest had finally lifted.
I didn't say goodbye to Kevin Lewis, nor did I inform Mary Scott; I just packed up my things and quietly left this company that had broken my heart.
Stepping out of the office building, sunlight warmed me, but it couldn't dispel the shadows lingering in my mind.

The first thing I did after leaving the company was to move out.
I rented a small apartment far from the city center. It wasn't big, but it was warm and comfortable. Most importantly, it held no unpleasant memories.
I changed my phone number and blocked everyone connected to my previous company, including Kevin Lewis.
I wanted to completely say goodbye to my past and start a new life.
After taking some time to rest at home, I began my job search.
This time, I didn't apply to any big companies, but instead went for a small design studio.
The interview went smoothly. The boss was a gentle, middle-aged woman who appreciated my design philosophy and hired me on the spot.
The atmosphere at the new Studio is great; everyone's friendly, with no scheming or deliberate sabotage.
Every day at work, I can fully immerse myself in design. That kind of focus and fulfillment is something I'd never felt before.
The Studio doesn't have many projects, but each one teaches me something new.
I've gradually rediscovered my passion for work and slowly stepped out of the shadows of my past.
Day by day, my life is steadily falling back into place.
On weekends, I visit bookstores, take walks in the park, try out new recipes, and occasionally have dinner with friends I've recently met.
This calm and fulfilling life makes me feel incredibly comfortable.
One afternoon, three months later, after work, I walked out of the Studio building, planning to pick up some groceries at the nearby supermarket.
Just as I reached the intersection, I spotted a familiar figure.
It was Kevin Lewis.
He stood not far away, dressed in a dark gray suit, looking a bit thinner than before, with eyes that showed signs of weariness and exhaustion.
The moment I saw him, I instinctively wanted to turn and walk away.
"Bella Lynn!" he called after me, his voice slightly hoarse.
I stopped in my tracks but didn't look back.
He hurried up to me, blocking my way.
"Are you okay?" He looked at me, his eyes filled with guilt. "I've been looking for you for a long time."
I looked at him, feeling nothing but calm. "I'm fine."
"I'm sorry," he said, lowering his head with sincerity. "What happened before was my fault. I shouldn't have treated you that way."
"It's all in the past now." I said evenly, "Mr. Lewis, we have nothing to do with each other anymore. Please don't disturb my life again."
"No, Bella Lynn, please let me explain." He hurriedly said, "Between Mary Scott and me, it's not what you think, I..."
"I don't want to hear it." I cut him off, "Whatever your relationship is, it's none of my business anymore. My life is good now, and I hope you don't ruin it."
After saying that, I bypassed him and walked straight ahead.
He didn't follow, just stood there, watching my back.
I didn't look back or give him any more chances to explain.
The past is the past. I don't want to be tangled up in those things anymore; I just want to cherish the peaceful life I have now.

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