Chapter 2: The First Trap

The next morning, I waited downstairs early. When Xavier walked over with Sandra, he was startled to see me. He quickly handed the coffee in his hand back to her. "Lily? What are you doing here? Why haven't you left for work?"

I replied with a smile, "Don't you know my school is near your company? Or have you never thought about giving me a ride too?"

Xavier opened his mouth but couldn’t find the words. Sandra's smiling face turned stiff. She spoke in a pretentious tone, "Is this your wife, Xavier? She's so beautiful—unlike me; I don't know how to dress up."

In my previous life, I had little interaction with Sandra. I now know that she's actually such a pretentious woman.

I replied coolly, "Beauty doesn't matter. Some men simply prefer the ugly women outside."

Xavier caught my underlying message. He lowered his voice, explaining, "This is Sandra, my new coworker. She lives in the building next to ours..."

I wasn’t interested, so I opened the back door and got in the car. Sandra stood by the door, looking befuddled. "Xavier, this..."

Xavier patted her shoulder and opened the passenger door for her. "Lily must be worried that you would get carsick because you look so frail."

I closed my eyes to rest, while the pretentious woman knew better than to speak. The atmosphere in the car grew tense.

After a while, I broke the silence, "Is the car comfortable, Sandra?"

Sandra was taken aback, "Huh?"

I continued, "You’ll be riding the car every day from now on. If it's uncomfortable, you can ask Xavier to change the car."

Sandra blushed. Xavier quickly spoke up for her, "Lily, don’t be so mean. Sandra is very innocent. She doesn’t understand what you're saying."

I sneered and discreetly installed a pinhole camera at the back of the front seat. "Is that so? Good to know."

When we arrived at the school, Xavier surprisingly opened the car door for me. As I stepped out, he asked sternly, "Lily, what are you doing? I'm just giving my coworker a ride. Do you really have to say those things?"

I chuckled at his question. "What am I doing? I want to annoy both of you. Seeing your reaction makes me happy!"

I thought that was the end of it, but the next morning, my phone was flooded with messages.

Confused, I opened WhatsApp to find friends and coworkers texting me: "Lily, is this woman Xavier's coworker, the one that you mentioned?"

I opened the screenshot my friend sent, showing Sandra's Twitter post. In the picture, she looked teary-eyed and pitiful. The caption read: "This is the first time something like this has ever happened to me. I don't know what to do. I was just hitching a ride; I didn't expect..."

She exaggerated the car incident.

I searched for her Twitter page, opened the post and scrolled through the comments. As expected, most of the comments were criticizing me:

"Why can't the guy give you a ride? You live in the same neighborhood and work at the same company."

"Your coworker is a good person, but his wife is so insecure!"

"Our Sandra is beautiful, so it’s dangerous for her to take public transport at night! Women should always help each other out!"

I almost laughed at the moral outrage. I replied anonymously, "I see that you're from the city of Jovialle too. Why not ask your husband to drive her to work instead?"

The commenter quickly replied, "Who are you? Why should my husband give her a ride? It's my husband, not her husband!"

Typical double standards from the people online.

As I continued to amuse myself replying to the comments, Xavier returned home. I glanced at the clock; it was already past ten in the evening.

He took a look at the dining table, then at me lounging on the couch. He was visibly displeased. "Why didn’t you leave me any food for dinner?"

Without looking up, I replied, "Haven't you eaten already?"

His brow furrowed as he spoke slowly, "I just got home from working overtime, and this is how you treat me?"