Jiang Wei's POV
>"Look, I don't have to tell you anything. I'm leaving."
My voice is sharp—too sharp—but I don't bother softening it.
I shove the van door open and step out, the slam echoing behind me as if sealing off everything I don't want to hear. The humid night air hits my face, a welcome change from the suffocating atmosphere inside.
Lately, my manager has been... overbearing. That's putting it lightly.
Every interaction is scrutinized. Every outing, questioned. Every female colleague, treated like a potential scandal waiting to happen. It's exhausting.
I get it—after the fallout from everything with Jiang Yuxi, public opinion is on a tightrope. But this? This isn't management. This is surveillance.
I tug my baseball cap lower and shove my hands into my pockets, hoping the growing buzz of frustration doesn't make me reckless.
>"Jiang Wei!"
Her voice cuts through the parking lot, sharp and concerned.
