The Unwilling CEO's Love Game novel Chapter 88

Jocelyn had had enough. She couldn't bear to waste another second in that place and couldn't stand to exchange another word with him. It would only demean herself.

His cold voice sliced through the tension, " I would've agreed to help if anyone else coming to me today,. Unfortunately, it was you."

Her heart sank as she saw his disdainful look. And then he added three more words that cut deep.

"You're not worthy."

...

Stepping out of the hotel, Jocelyn looked up at the sky, feeling a numbness that eclipsed the pain. Over three years of her love, now she realized, had been misplaced.

Her love was unrequited.

She immediately called the principal, apologizing that she had done her best.

Walking down the street, her mind felt numb. Perhaps the pain was too deep or maybe she had seen through it all. So the pain just wasn't there anymore.

Then her phone rang with an unknown number.

It was a call from a senior official at the Board of Education, asking if she could meet someone.

Jocelyn guessed that the principal must have spoken to the official.

In the workplace, sometimes you have to do things against your will.

She arrived at a country club not far from the hotel and saw the official waiting for her.

As soon as he saw her, he called out, "Jocelyn, is that how you dressed for the meeting with Mr. Martinez?"

She looked down at her attire, not seeing any problem.

"You're too conservative," the official shook his head and said, "Anyway, come meet the benefactor."

Jocelyn followed him through the opulent corridors and made a turn to face grand double doors.

Before entering, he advised, "Jocelyn, make a good impression, relax. You're here to secure benefits for the school, to fight for a better learning environment for the students."

She nodded, not knowing what to say or what difference her presence would make.

Once inside, the place was buzzing with vigour.

She instinctively wanted to leave, but the official nudged her forward and closed the door behind them.

"Jocelyn, go sit by Mr. Vance. He's a philanthropist, you know, and he's looking to generously fund a new building for the school," the official urged her toward a man whose stomach bulged more than a nine-month pregnancy.

She wasn't naive; she understood the situation.

She stood still, "Maybe we should call Mr. Fletcher instead."

"What's gotten into you?" the official frowned, "Fletcher asked you to keep Mr. Vance company. Don't you trust me?"

"It's not that. Such an important matter should be handled by the school leaders. I'm afraid I might say something wrong," Jocelyn didn't budge. She didn't want to get caught in these unwritten workplace rules or sacrifice herself.

It shouldn't be up to a mere teacher to influence the school's future.

Dissatisfaction marked the official's face as he stared at her, "You teach literature, Jocelyn. You should understand the subtext."

"That’s why I can't go through with it," her mood was already sour. Flattery and pandering were out of the question.

She apologized, "I'm sorry, I have to go."

"Are all the teachers at the school this uptight?" Vance stood up, approached Jocelyn, and grabbed her arm, "I've seen your news online. They say you're a good teacher. But flies don't buzz around an uncracked egg. Surely, you have your moments, right?"

"Just keep me company tonight, and I'll sign the contract with your school tomorrow." Vance had his eyes set on Jocelyn, having made this specific request.

Jocelyn slumped to the floor, her eyes vacant. Even as the bottles shattered on Vance, causing him to scream and clutch his head, she remained unmoved.

The room's chaos turned to cries for mercy, and when the din finally quieted, Jocelyn lifted her gaze.

She saw Melvin holding an ashtray, ready to strike. In a flash, she grabbed his arm.

Melvin turned. His eyes were a fierce red, sending a shiver down Jocelyn's spine.

She reached out for the ashtray he was holding, and Melvin gave her without resistance.

Jocelyn gripped the hefty ashtray, her gaze fixed on the man now trembling from his beatings, his pleas for mercy shrinking to a whisper.

With vengeful force, she crashed it down on the hand that had dared to graze her waist.

A ghastly scream echoed through the confined room, while the official stood petrified to the spot, shivering with fright.

Jocelyn struck once and once again.

Like a cold, unfeeling automaton, she hammered down until his palm bled, and even the sound of bones breaking did not halt her revenge.

It was Zephyr who burst in and stopped Jocelyn, wrenching the bloodied ashtray from her grasp. He stared at her in disbelief, unable to fathom that she could be so merciless.

"Melvin, why didn't you stop her? What if she had crippled him?" Zephyr, though impressed with Melvin's restraint, was aghast at the scene.

Melvin glanced at Jocelyn, whose pallor was as white as a sheet. The ferocity in her eyes was slowly receding, leaving behind a hollow, lifeless gaze.

Jocelyn seemed not to see him as she staggered to her feet, nearly collapsing, if not for Melvin's steadying hand.

Finally, she looked at him squarely.

It was the first time Melvin had seen her like this. Her eyes were growing increasingly dark. He took back the ashtray from Zephyr and handed it to her. "If you feel it's not enough, keep going. I've got your back if there’s any trouble."