This Time, I Fight Back: The CEO's Daughter Returns

The staff party was a dull throb, a familiar exhaustion settling deep in my bones.

Then Sabrina Chavez held out the brownie, her eyes wide and innocent, just like before.

But I remembered the last time.

Taking that brownie led to my throat closing, my lungs burning, and a severe anaphylactic shock.

I was dying on the floor, gasping for air, while my boyfriend, Ethan, comforted Sabrina, who claimed it was just cross-contamination.

He called me "dramatic" at my hospital bed.

That "accident" cost me my promotion, gave me lifelong respiratory damage, and shattered my relationship.

It all ended when Ethan, defending Sabrina again, pushed me, and my head hit the counter.

I died.

Now, I' m back, standing at that exact moment.

Sabrina' s smile was sickeningly sweet.

The world snapped into focus.

This time, everything changes.

The pounding music of the staff party was a dull throb in my head, a sick rhythm matching the exhaustion that settled deep in my bones. It was the same party, the same music, the same faces.

And the same brownie.

Sabrina Chavez held it out to me on a small napkin, her eyes wide and innocent. "Jocelyn, I made these just for you! I know how hard you worked for the critic's dinner. They're totally gluten-free, I promise."

Her voice was sweet, a little clumsy, the same way it always was. The same voice that had convinced everyone, including my boyfriend Ethan, that she was just a harmless, well-meaning girl.

A memory, sharp and suffocating, flooded me. The last time, I took the brownie. I thanked her. Then my throat started to close, my lungs burning as if they were filled with fire. Anaphylactic shock. Severe. The ambulance was called too late because everyone believed Sabrina when she cried, saying she had no idea, that it must have been cross-contamination.

Ethan had held her, comforting her while I gasped for air on the floor. He later stood by my hospital bed, his face a mask of annoyance. "Can't you be less dramatic, Jocelyn? It was an accident. You're making Sabrina feel terrible."

The "accident" cost me my promotion. The long-term respiratory damage made every shift a marathon of pain. The stress, the weakness, the constant fighting... it all ended when Ethan, defending Sabrina during another argument, pushed me. Just a shove. But I was weak, and I fell wrong. The crack of my head against the countertop was the last sound I ever heard.

Now, I was back. Back at the moment it all began.

Sabrina' s smile was a perfect picture of sweetness. "Go on, try it."

The world snapped into focus. The rage, cold and pure, burned away the exhaustion. This time would be different. This time, they would all pay.

My hand shot out, not to take the brownie, but to slap it.

The dense, chocolatey square flew from her grasp, splattering against the polished concrete floor. A collective gasp went through the small crowd around us.

Sabrina' s eyes widened, and then, right on cue, they filled with tears. Her lower lip began to tremble. "Jocelyn... why would you do that? I... I just wanted to do something nice for you."

"Nice?" My voice was low and steady, cutting through the sudden silence. "That brownie is loaded with peanut flour, Sabrina. You know I have a severe allergy."

Ethan was by her side in an instant, his arm wrapping around her protectively. He glared at me, his face twisted with anger. "What the hell is wrong with you, Jocelyn? She baked for you! Why are you always such a bully to her?"

He used the exact same words as last time. The memory was so vivid it made my stomach turn.

"A bully?" I laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "Ask her what she bought at that specialty nut shop on 47th Street this afternoon. Ask her why she insisted it had to be peanut flour when they offered her almond."

Sabrina sobbed harder, burying her face in Ethan's chest. "I don't know what she's talking about! I would never..."

The restaurant's General Manager, Andrew Lester, pushed his way through the crowd. He was a man who practically sweated ambition, and his crush on Sabrina was pathetic. He saw her as his golden ticket, mistakenly believing her common last name, Chavez, connected her to the group's biggest, most reclusive investor.

"Jocelyn, that's enough," Andrew said, his voice firm with authority. He placed a comforting hand on Sabrina' s back. "Apologize to Sabrina right now. This is completely unprofessional."

"Unprofessional is trying to murder your sous-chef," I shot back, my eyes locked on his.

Andrew' s face hardened. He was protecting his investment, his fantasy of promotion. "You're making a serious accusation. If you're so sure, then prove it."

A triumphant, vicious glint flashed in Sabrina's tear-filled eyes as she peeked over Ethan's shoulder. It was the same look she'd given me in my past life, just before everything went dark.

"Yes, Jocelyn," she whispered, her voice laced with venom disguised as hurt. "Prove it."

Then, the world tilted.

Ethan grabbed one of my arms, his grip like iron. "You're going to apologize, Jocelyn."

Andrew seized my other arm, his face red with fury. "You've caused enough trouble tonight."

They were strong, fueled by their righteous defense of the "victim." They pinned my arms, holding me fast.

Sabrina stepped forward, a piece of the broken brownie in her hand. She scooped it up from the floor, her movements no longer clumsy but precise and full of hate.

"It's okay," she said loudly, for the benefit of the onlookers. "I forgive you, Jocelyn. Here, just have a little bite. You'll see, it's perfectly safe."

With Ethan and Andrew holding me down, she brought the brownie to my lips. I clamped my jaw shut, but Andrew used his free hand to pinch my nose. My mouth fell open, gasping for air.

In that instant, Sabrina shoved the brownie inside.

The gritty, oily texture of the peanut flour coated my tongue. I was forced to swallow.