The Set-Up Chapter 2

Now, the cries for help were still coming from the conference room.

A slow smile spread across my face. I quietly closed the door to my office and walked away.

On my way home, I stopped by the grocery store. I was going to cook dinner for Emily tonight. I didn't blame her for leaving me in my past life.

She was the daughter of a wealthy family, raised with every comfort, yet she chose me—a poor kid from the sticks with nothing to his name. From our first tiny rental apartment after graduation to the small home we owned now, she had always been by my side.

When I walked in, she was at her computer, finishing up some work.

Watching her focused profile, I made a silent vow: You suffered so much because of me. It will never happen again.

The next day, I went to work as usual.

Rachel stormed right up to me, her hand flying. She slapped me across the face, her voice a shrill accusation.

"Why didn't you help me yesterday?!"

I didn't hesitate. I slapped her back. Twice. Hard.

The force of it stunned her. She stood there, clutching her cheek. "You… you hit me?!"

"Everyone saw it," I said coolly. "You hit me first. I was just defending myself."

She wouldn't let it go. "You heard me! Why didn't you come in?!"

I raised my voice, making sure others could hear. "I have no idea what you're babbling about. Get away from me, you psycho." Then, to my nearby colleagues, "Watch out for this one. She attacks people for no reason."

She lunged, grabbing my bag with one hand and clawing at my face with the other.

I shoved her away and delivered two more sharp slaps.

She was about to come at me again when our department head, Mr. Evans, rushed over, drawn by the commotion.

Rachel immediately burst into tears, spinning her tale, trying to pin it all on me. It made my blood boil.

Mr. Evans’ brow furrowed. "So, you're saying Jeff saw you being assaulted after work yesterday, did nothing, and just left. And that's why you attacked him this morning?"

Rachel nodded, tears streaming down her face like a stage actress.

"You're unbelievable!" I cut in. "I didn't see a thing, so stop trying to drag me into your mess! And let's say I did see something. Am I legally obligated to play the hero? What law says I have to save you? That's nothing but moral blackmail."

The memory of my last life flashed before my eyes—the humiliation, the pain, all because of this baseless accusation.

Seeing her stammer, unable to respond, I pressed on. "The person who attacked you is the criminal. You should be calling the police to catch him, not standing here blaming me."

Humiliated and furious, Rachel shrieked, "We're colleagues! If you had just helped me, none of this would have happened!"

"Don't you yell at me! As for last night, I—know—nothing!"

Losing all control, she grabbed a heavy glass ashtray from a nearby desk and hurled it at my head.

"Enough!" Mr. Evans roared. "If you two can't sort this out, we'll do it at the precinct. I'm calling the police. It's the end of the year, you should be focused on hitting your targets, not this drama!"

He pulled out his phone.

Rachel lunged and grabbed his arm, her voice trembling, her face pale. "No, you can't call the police… If you do, my life is really over."