JOY IN CHAOS

Mabel Lexington gripped the manila file tightly, her knuckles turning white as she stood outside Richard Sinclair's office door. For the third time this week, she was about to hand him the same report-edited, revised, and re-checked more times than she cared to count.

Yet she knew how this would end. He'd find another fault, tear it apart, and send her back out like a scolded schoolgirl.

With a deep breath, she straightened her back, pushed open the glass door and stepped inside.

Richard Sinclair sat behind his massive mahogany desk, a picture of power and arrogance. His sharp, tailored suit clung perfectly to his broad shoulders, and his taper-fade haircut gave him an air of modern sophistication. But his intimidating presence was nothing compared to his attitude.

His dark eyes, which might have been handsome under different circumstances, seemed to pierce through her as if she were an inconvenience he had to endure.

He didn't even look up as she entered. His hands were clasped in front of him, and his gaze was fixed on the computer screen, his expression neutral but carrying the same air of superiority he exuded at all times.

"You're late, Miss Lexington," he said, his voice a low, sharp command.

Her heart dropped. Every time.

"No, I'm not," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady despite the frustration creeping into her chest. "It's noon. You said noon."

"Twelve-oh-two," he corrected, his voice flat. "You're late."

Her throat tightened, but she forced herself to swallow the lump that had formed there. This was the same routine she'd gone through every time. She'd show up on time, file her reports, and he would find some reason to criticize her, always, with that same condescending attitude.

But this time, she wasn't going to let him get under her skin. At least, she tried not to.

She placed the file on his desk with a little more force than necessary, but she quickly masked it with a smile she knew didn't reach her eyes. "Here's the updated report."

Richard picked it up without a word, flipping through it slowly, his eyes scanning each page with the precision of someone who lived in a world of perfection

Mabel watched him, her pulse quickening with each second. She'd double-checked every number, verified every source, and made sure everything was in order. She knew it was perfect.

But she could still feel the familiar sting in her chest. She could guess what was coming.

"This is wrong. Again," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. He tossed the file back onto the desk, the papers slipping and scattering across the surface. "Page six. The projections are inaccurate. How many times do I have to tell you to verify your sources?"

Her fingers clenched at her sides. Again? This was the same page he'd complained about the last two times.

"It's not wrong," she said through gritted teeth, trying her best to keep her voice calm. "This is exactly what your finance team provided."

"Clearly, you didn't check hard enough," Richard snapped, leaning back in his chair. His posture was the picture of arrogance, his eyes cold and dismissive. "Fix it."

Her jaw tightened. Fix it? What exactly was there to fix when nothing was wrong? But this wasn't about the report, was it? He'd been like this from the day she started.

And yet, even as she stood there, fuming, she couldn't stop her mind from running through everything that had brought her here. She'd taken this job to rebuild her life, to find stability after years of chaos.

At twenty-four, she'd already faced more hardships than most people her age.

Her family had been drowning in debt for years-her father's small business had barely scraped by, and her mother's health had worsened to the point where she couldn't work anymore. The bills piled up, and Mabel had taken it all on. Her brother's tuition, her sister's mounting coma bills, the endless utility and medical expenses.

She'd worked herself to the bone juggling three part-time jobs to make it all work. She'd sacrificed sleep, comfort, and even her own dreams to keep her family afloat.

When Sinclair Enterprises offered her a position, it felt like salvation. The job that promised to be her ticket out of the chaos.

The pay was better than her previous three jobs combined, and for the first time in years, she'd seen a light at the end of the tunnel.

Why does he hate me so much? she wondered, her heart aching from his constant disapproval. What did I ever do to him?

And then, as she stood there staring at his cold, detached expression, the answer came to her: It's not me. It's him.

Richard treated everyone this way. She'd seen it. How he barked orders at his employees like they were beneath him. How he barely acknowledged his clients, dismissing them with a rudeness that made her cringe. His arrogance had no limits, and his respect for anyone outside his social circle was non-existent.

But with her, it was worse. He seemed to go out of his way to criticize her work, nitpicking every detail, finding fault where there was none. She'd heard whispers among the staff, theories about why he was so harsh with her. Some thought it was because she'd stood up to him during her first week on the job-a bold move that had clearly rubbed him the wrong way. Others believed it was something deeper, something personal.

Whatever the reason, Mabel knew one thing for certain: Richard Sinclair was determined to make her life miserable.

"Anything else you'd like me to 'fix' while I'm at it?" she asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

Richard's eyes flicked to hers for the briefest moment, and for a split second, something shifted in his gaze...something that was not quite cold, not quite indifferent. But then it was gone, buried behind his usual mask of disdain

"Your attitude could use some work," he said, his voice as condescending as ever. "But that's not my problem, is it?"

Mabel fought to keep her composure, but inside, a storm was brewing. She wanted to scream, to throw the report in his face and tell him exactly what she thought of him. But she couldn't. She couldn't afford to lose this job, no matter how much he made her want to quit.

Instead, she forced a smile, a smile that felt like a mask. "I'll fix it, Mr. Sinclair."

She turned and walked out of the office, her heart pounding in her chest. The door clicked shut behind her, but the weight of Richard's words stayed with her, wrapping around her like chains.

This job was supposed to be a fresh start, she thought bitterly as she sank into her chair. But Richard Sinclair is turning it into a nightmare.

Still, she couldn't afford to lose this opportunity. No matter how much he pushed her, she would endure. She had no choice. Her family was counting on her, and failure was not an option.

Fine, she thought, opening the file again. If he wants perfection, I'll give him perfection. But I won't let him break me.