Hurricane

8

Luna Hart steps into the office, the murmur of hushed conversations immediately capturing her attention. She feels the weight of her colleagues' gazes following her, their whispers intensifying as she walks past. The air is thick with tension, making every step she takes feel heavier. As she approaches her desk, the whispers grow louder, snippets of conversation reaching her ears. "Did you hear what she did?" "I can't believe she would stoop so low." "I always thought she was different."

Luna's heart pounds in her chest, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach. She places her bag on her desk and looks up to see Isabella emerging from her office, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. Isabella's presence commands attention, and the room falls silent as she strides forward.

"Luna," Isabella begins, her voice dripping with mock sweetness, "I asked you to take a contract, not sleep with Adrian."

A collective gasp ripples through the office, followed by a surge of whispers. "Is she serious?" "Luna did what?" "How could she?" The words cut through Luna like shards of glass, each one leaving a sting.

Isabella's smile widens, her eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction. "Adrian Knight is the nephew of Mr. Knight," she continues, her tone condescending. "You can't get Cassian, so you go for his nephew? Pathetic."

Luna's cheeks burn with embarrassment and anger. She opens her mouth to protest, but the words catch in her throat. The room feels stifling, the air heavy with judgment and disdain. Isabella folds her arms, looking as if she's won a grand prize. "You're fired," she declares, her voice echoing in the silence. "You can take your pathetic belongings from your desk and leave. I'll have HR contact you."

Luna's vision blurs as tears well up in her eyes. The room seems to close in on her, the walls pressing closer with every heartbeat. She swallows hard, trying to compose herself, but the weight of the accusations is overwhelming.

"Isabella, this isn't fair," Luna finally manages to say, her voice trembling. "I didn't do anything wrong."

Isabella's expression hardens. "Fair? Life isn't fair, Luna. Now get out of my office."

Luna's hands shake as she begins to gather her things, the whispers around her growing louder.

 "Did you hear that?" "I always knew she was trouble." "Good riddance."

As she fumbles with her belongings, a sharp voice cuts through the din. "Luna," one of her colleagues sneers, "you should be ashamed of yourself. Sleeping your way to the top? Disgusting."

Luna's throat tightens, the tears threatening to spill over. She tries to focus on packing her things, but the words keep coming, each one a dagger to her heart.

Another colleague chimes in, "Yeah, Luna. Did you really think you could get away with it? Pathetic."

The room feels suffocating, the air thick with scorn. Luna's hands move mechanically, her mind numb with shock and despair. She glances up briefly, catching sight of Rick standing by the coffee machine. His eyes meet hers, filled with sympathy and concern. He opens his mouth to say something, but Isabella's glare silences him.

"Luna, hurry up," Isabella snaps, her patience wearing thin. "We don't have all day."

Luna swallows hard, forcing herself to keep moving. She gathers the last of her things and stands up, her knees feeling weak. The room falls silent again as she makes her way to the door, the weight of their judgment heavy on her shoulders.

As she steps into the hallway, Luna lets out a shaky breath, the tears finally spilling over. She leans against the wall, her vision blurred by the flood of emotions. The world outside the office feels cold and unwelcoming, but she knows she can't stay.