The Platonic Trap novel Chapter 123

The moment she answered the phone, a shrill roar blasted through the speaker. "Celia Stafford! Where the hell are you?! Look at the time! Why aren't you at your desk?!"

Raising an eyebrow, a faint smile touched her lips, though her voice remained the picture of weakness and exhaustion. "Mr. Lambert, I'm sick. I need to take the day off."

"Sick? What kind of sick? What sickness could possibly be more important than the progress of this project?!"

Celia replied, "I caught a cold. I'm running a fever."

"Unless you're in the hospital, you drag yourself in! Get to Zucker Corp right now, you have a mountain of tasks to finish today!"

Some people, it seemed, were just hell-bent on digging their own graves.

Without offering any further explanations, she simply said, "Understood, Mr. Lambert. I'll be right there."

Hanging up, she changed her clothes and headed back downstairs.

A maid tidying up the living room saw her heading for the door and rushed over in concern. "Ms. Stafford, where... where are you going?"

Celia offered a helpless, strained smile, her voice soft. "Something urgent came up at work. Mr. Lambert said I absolutely have to be there."

With that, she didn't linger and drove straight to the office.

--

Zucker Corporation.

By the time Celia arrived, Larry was already standing by her desk with his arms crossed, having waited quite a while.

Seeing her walk in late, he narrowed his eyes, his tone acidic. "Do you seriously think you're a full-time employee here already?"

"As an intern, didn't the company teach you that calling in sick requires formal approval?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Lambert," she explained. "I was planning to call HR..."

"Planning to? You don't even look sick to me. A fever?"

As he spoke, he reached out, trying to touch her forehead.

Taking the files back, she returned to her desk.

In truth, the documents he had given her were completely trivial and had absolutely nothing to do with their actual project.

He was just deliberately torturing her.

The rest of the project team could clearly see what was happening, but no one dared to speak up for her.

—Rumor had it that Mr. Lambert was the nephew of one of the board directors. He was untouchable.

So, for the most part, they could only offer her sympathetic glances, unable to do anything more.

Sitting back at her desk, she spread the files out and snapped a photo with her phone.

Opening her chat with Alistair, she hit send.

Within seconds, a reply came through.