Still Your Dog? No, I'm Gone novel Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Camille stood there with that smug, entitled look on her face, like she thought she was running the show.

I met her gaze calmly without the slightest bit of emotion in my eyes.

“Ms. Layton, I think it’s time I reminded you of something,” I said.

She sneered and looked at me.

“Oh? Since when does a lapdog get to remind its owner of anything?”

Even now, she didn’t bother hiding her contempt She stood there with her arms crossed, watching me with that same smug, challenging stare, like she had me completely under her thumb.

I suppressed the anger and said coldly, “There are nine days left before I leave. If you don’t start taking the handover seriously now, whatever problems that show up after you take over … those will be on you.”

Camille covered her mouth like she was about to burst out laughing. She plopped herself right onto the desk with one leg swinging over the other. Then, she stared me down with absolute disdain.

“You’ve still got nine days, right? While you’re still here, stay in your seat and do the damn job. Don’t even think about trying anything.”

She added, “You were mine when you got here, and you’ll still be mine when you’re gone.”

With that, she sauntered off while swaying her hips.

The project manager stood frozen with the folder still in his hand, looking like he had no idea what to do next.

“Mr. Wexler, this…”

“Give it to me.”

I waved him off and took the folder.

Since that was what Camille wanted, I went along with it. I was leaving soon anyway, and whatever mess that was left behind would be hers to clean up.

I found a large box and packed up all my personal stuff from the office.

In nine days, I’d be done with this place for good, and I wouldn’t be coming back. As long as I stayed until the last day and finished the job, I’d feel like I’d done right by Benson for everything he’d done for me.

Chapter

I carried the box out, and everyone in the office gave me strange looks.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Wexler.”

“Mr. Wexler…”

“Let me help you with that. Are you moving offices?”

One of the more quick–witted employees ran over, probably hoping to stay on my good side.

I shook my head and declined politely, “Thanks. I’ve got it.”

Behind me,

I could vaguely hear the employees whispering in low voices.

“Didn’t Mr. Wexler just get promoted? Why’s he packing up already?”

“Yeah. It could be that he’s making room for his own people. That’s what new bosses usually

do.”

“That’s not right. I can see from his expression that he didn’t look too good. Ms. Layton probably pissed him off.”

“If I were Mr. Wexler, I would’ve snapped ages ago with the way she keeps messing with him.”

I pretended not to hear anything and quickly walked away.

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