New beginning: Billionaire love story

Chapter 209 Wrong Target

"Excuse me," Claire said, her voice icy. "What did you just call me?"

The woman, who had crossed her arms over her chest in a way that screamed arrogance, met Claire's gaze without flinching. "You heard me," she retorted, her tone dripping with disdain.

Claire felt a headache forming. Of all the ways her morning could go wrong, this wasn't even on the list. She stared back at the woman, her eyes narrowing. "And what exactly is the reason you felt the need to call me that?" Claire asked, her patience wearing thin. The woman rolled her eyes and huffed as if she couldn't believe she had to explain herself. "You stole my best friend's boyfriend," she snapped her expression a mixture of irritation and accusation.

For a moment, Claire was too shocked to respond. Stolen a boyfriend? Who even says that?

"What?" Claire finally managed to say. "I didn't steal anything, let alone someone's boyfriend. You must have me confused with someone else."

The woman frowned, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized Claire more closely. "Aren't you Claire Peterson?" she asked, a hint of suspicion in her voice.

Claire nodded slowly, still trying to wrap her head around the accusation. "Yes, I am, but-"

"Then I'm not wrong," the woman cut her off, her tone resolute.

Claire was still utterly puzzled by the whole situation. "Look," she said, raising a hand in a plea for clarity, "why don't you start from the beginning and explain this to me?"

The woman sighed heavily, as if this was all a great inconvenience to her, and then began, "You stole Lisa's boyfriend, Alex. That's why I called you a bitch."

That was the last thing Claire had expected to hear, and she couldn't help it-she burst out laughing. The sheer absurdity of the accusation was too much.

The woman's face flushed with anger. "What's so funny?" she demanded, looking as if she might throw something at Claire next

Claire took a moment to catch her breath and then gave the woman a good, long look. That's when it clicked. She remembered the woman's face from that one time she had accidentally bumped into Lisa at a cafe. This must be one of Lisa's friends, though Claire couldn't recall her name.

"Wait a second," Claire said, crossing her arms over her chest in a mirror image of the woman's stance. "You're one of Lisa's friends, aren't you?"

expression was more

scoff. This was ridiculous. Turning to the bakery staff, she offered

staff member just nodded, offering a polite,

demeanor shifting from slightly amused to downright

feeling like this encounter had already taken up too much of her time. But before she could take more than a few steps, the woman grabbed her wrist. Claire immediately yanked her arm back,

but quickly recovered. "Why did you steal Alex from Lisa?" she pressed, clearly not ready to

this time. "Lisa is

Kayla," she continued, "what Lisa told you is a complete

serious. "How do I know you're not the one lying?" Kayla challenged, though there was a hint of uncertainty in

I don't care what you think," she said coldly. "You've already ruined my

front of her, blocking her path. "Wait," Kayla

a raised eyebrow. A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. "You really want to know the truth about your precious Lisa?" she asked, her tone

but then nodded.

leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to

.....

at her workplace after months of being away. As she sat on the crowded bus, she couldn't believe she was actually on her way to work. Her once-comfortable life had taken a turn, and she knew exactly who to blame-Claire. If it weren't for Claire, she wouldn't be squished between a sweaty guy with questionable hygiene and a woman who

gripping the metal bar so hard her knuckles turned white. "This is all her fault." She was so close to pulling her hair out right there on

passed on what she hoped was a sweet, innocent smile. "Fake it till you make it,"

into the

the button for her

her as if she had done something scandalous,

she have something on her face? Was there a rogue piece of breakfast clinging to her teeth? She hurried to her desk, fumbling for her compact mirror. She inspected her face closely. Nope, no toothpaste smears, no mascara disasters. So,

her desk, eyebrows raised in that trademark judgmental way. "Well, well, well, look who

smile, one she hoped looked natural. "Yeah, I'm back. Anyway, what's with the staring?" a confused look crossed

just

the room. "Surprised? That's one way to put it," she thought. Out loud, she

just curious about where you've