I Married the President-Chapter 125: Playing Dirty

You could tell Henry Hartwell held a deep grudge against certain online romance queens, but ’what did that have to do with the article she’d written?’

Claire Sinclair’s mind began to wander...

Henry Hartwell seemed to realize he’d gone off-topic and quickly brought the conversation back.

"I’ve gotten a little sidetracked. Anyway, just remember, we journalists have a mission: to take the lead in guiding public opinion in the right direction. Every single word and every single sentence has to be right. You can’t be making these kinds of basic grammatical mistakes. And if you’re not sure what idiom to use, just don’t use one..."

He spoke casually, but Claire Sinclair listened intently, taking his every word to heart. She silently vowed never to make those mistakes again.

She was completely unaware that someone was standing just outside the archives.

Phoebe Lockwood stood at the door, overhearing every word of their conversation.

When she heard "Iron Pen Literary Award," a spark of jealousy ignited within her.

’As if a bitch like Claire Sinclair could win the Iron Pen Literary Award. Dream on!’

A sudden idea struck her. A wicked smile touched Phoebe Lockwood’s lips as she turned and walked over to Claire Sinclair’s computer.

She glanced around. Her other colleagues had just left for a story-pitch meeting, so the office was empty.

’Perfect!’

Phoebe Lockwood woke the computer screen and deleted Claire’s open Word document. She even remembered to empty the Recycle Bin before walking away as if nothing had happened.

...

When Claire Sinclair emerged from the archives, she felt she had learned a great deal. She was eager to get back and fix the issues Teacher Hartwell had pointed out.

She sat down at her computer, only to find the Word document she’d had open was gone.

Claire Sinclair raised an eyebrow. Someone had clearly been on her computer.

She checked her computer’s folders and even the Recycle Bin, but found nothing. It looked like it had been permanently deleted.

The only other person in the office was Phoebe Lockwood. All the senior staff were in the conference room for the pitch meeting. The culprit couldn’t be more obvious.

Tch...

’That dumbass, Phoebe Lockwood. Did she really think I wouldn’t be able to recover a deleted file?’

’If a hacker couldn’t even recover an accidentally deleted file, I might as well just slam my head into my keyboard.’

Claire Sinclair’s fingers flew across the keyboard. In less than a minute, she had the lost file back.

Incorporating the feedback Teacher Hartwell had given her on the printout, Claire Sinclair threw herself into her revisions. Ideas were firing off one after another.

A while later, Phoebe Lockwood deliberately walked past her, hoping to gloat a little. But when she saw the document was still on the screen, she was instantly baffled.

’I deleted it, didn’t I? So why is it still there???’

Just as she was stewing in confusion, Claire Sinclair suddenly turned around, startling her.

For some reason, Phoebe Lockwood felt a pang of guilt.

Claire Sinclair said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, "You were on my computer, weren’t you?"

Behind those smiling eyes was a certainty and confidence that sent a terrifying chill through Phoebe Lockwood.

"D-don’t you dare accuse me! When did I ever touch your computer?"

"Heh..." Claire Sinclair sneered. Her dark, predatory eyes stared right into Phoebe’s guilty ones, her gaze like a sword plunging straight into Phoebe Lockwood’s heart.

Phoebe Lockwood shuddered and instinctively took a step back.

Claire Sinclair narrowed her eyes, her voice devoid of all emotion. "Don’t ever touch my things again, especially my computer. Otherwise, you’ll face consequences you can’t handle."

"You’re a psycho!" Phoebe Lockwood shot back, then turned and fled.

She was clearly beating a hasty retreat.