The Influencer Who Tried to Destroy Me

My head buzzed—what agreement? When did I sign anything?

Chief Inspector Dickerson took the paper, studied it carefully, then looked at me. "Did you sign this?"

I leaned in. The agreement was covered in dense clauses, and at the very bottom, there it was—my name, with a bright red fingerprint beside it.

The position matched the red mark on my thumb exactly.

"No!" My scalp went numb. "I didn't sign this! I got hit on the head, and while I was unconscious they—"

"What nonsense." Derek cut me off. "You admitted you used gutter oil. Said you'd pay compensation. Now you're backing out?"

Marcus held his phone high, shouting at the camera. "Family, did you see that? The black-hearted boss wants to weasel out!"

He turned, pulled the photo from his pocket, and handed it straight to the inspectors.

"Evidence—him scooping gutter oil in the kitchen!"

Chief Inspector Dickerson studied the photo. His expression darkened. "We need an on-site inspection."

They walked straight into the kitchen. I followed.

I cleaned that kitchen spotless every day. They wouldn't find anything.

But when I saw the black plastic bucket in the corner, I froze.

That wasn't mine.

Chief Inspector Dickerson walked over and shined his flashlight into the liquid. A sour, rotten stench hit the air.

"What is this?" He turned to me.

"This isn't mine!" My voice came out hoarse. "I've never seen this bucket! They must have snuck it in!"

Derek sneered. "Still arguing? Caught red-handed and you want to deny it?"

Marcus stepped closer to Chief Inspector Dickerson, lowering his voice. "Sir, this is the evidence. These workers trusted him—ate gutter oil for three years. Ruined their health."

Chief Inspector Dickerson photographed the bucket, then collected a sample in a test tube. "This is serious. You'll need to come with us for an investigation."

My legs went weak.

Derek fanned the flames. "Sir, you've got to investigate thoroughly. This kind of black-hearted vendor deserves the harshest punishment! The agreement says five thousand per person. He's backing out, and we won't accept it!"

The workers' voices rose and fell. "Yeah! He has to pay!"

Chief Inspector Dickerson raised his hand for silence. "We'll handle this according to the law. Everyone calm down."

I watched Marcus secretly flip me off. Every word stuck in my throat.

He'd set up this trap long ago. Calculated every step.

Then Derek's expression changed. He clutched his stomach, doubling over. "Ow… my stomach…"

Several workers grabbed their stomachs too, cold sweat breaking out on their faces.

"Mine too! Like knives twisting inside!"

Someone vomited. Someone collapsed.