Chater 8 Benson had waited in his office all day, fully expecting Sierra to come and apologize. But as the workday neared its end, Sophie casually mentioned that Sierra had taken the company staff out for dinner.

Furious, Benson grabbed his keys and drove straight to the restaurant. By the time he arrived, he caught the tail end of Sierra's announcement-she was resigning.

A surge of inexplicable anger ignited in his chest.

Sierra turned to face him. Benson's bloodshot eyes burned with frustration, his emotions barely contained. Behind him, Sophie stood in her white gown, her delicate, practiced expression firmly in place.

"Yes, I'm resigning. I've already completed all my tasks. Tomorrow, I'll hand everything over to Mr. Gray," Sierra said coldly.

Benson gripped her wrist tightly, almost without realizing it. "Who permitted you to leave? I won't approve it!" he demanded.

His grip was firm enough to hurt, and Sierra frowned.

"Let go," she said sharply.

For a moment, Sophie couldn't hide her glee. She had been hoping Sierra would leave, waiting for this chance to have more time with Benson.

But still, she couldn't shake the suspicion that this might all be a ploy, a game Sierra was playing to get Benson's attention.

wrist, though his glare remained as sharp as ever. "Have you had enough of

voice like ice. "I've already stepped aside so you and Sophie can

words hit Benson like a slap. For a moment, his anger faltered, replaced by a flicker of satisfaction. In

emboldened, Benson softened his tone slightly. "You've misunderstood Sophie, I only see her as a little sister. I've just been looking out for her, that's

let out a cold laugh. "You're telling me she's just your sister after I

"What kissing? What

face immediately changed. She stepped forward, grabbing Sierra by the arm

mad at Mr. Gray because of me. This is all my fault. I'm willing to leave

was earnest, almost pitiful, but the hand gripping Sierra's arm tightened deliberately. Sierra

let out a cry as she

the tension like a whip.

protective arm around her

interjected softly, her eyes brimming with tears, making her look as though she were enduring some

Sophie's frail appearance to Sierra. His jaw tightened, and he spoke through clenched teeth. "Sierra, you're not even

lowered her head, the sting of the scratch on her arm sharp enough to blur her eyes with unshed tears. Benson's words

just be with her. From

herself to suppress the emotions bubbling in her chest as she spoke. She glanced at the other colleagues seated around the table and managed to muster a

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