Pampered By My Three Brothers: The Return Of The Neglected Heiress - Chapter 1383

Chapter 1383: Bathroom break!
Patricia tapped her foot on the floor, fidgeting with her fingers as she glanced around uneasily. It wasn’t nervousness or anxiety that made her restless — after two hours of waiting, her bladder felt like it was about to burst.

The number of people in the room had already halved, and she didn’t want to risk missing her turn when her name was called. So, despite her growing discomfort, she kept her eyes glued to the door, hoping she wouldn’t be summoned just yet.

Her eyes lit up when the door opened, revealing the person calling names. The moment her name wasn’t announced, she sprang from her seat and rushed to the bathroom.

Relief flooded her body as soon as she stepped into a toilet cubicle.

‘Gosh… this journey is like a rollercoaster ride,’ she thought with a grin as she finally relieved herself. ‘Well, if I impress everyone, this will all be worth it.’

As Patricia went about her business, she heard voices outside.

“Gosh, why is this taking so long?” a woman’s voice echoed through the restroom. “It’s been three hours since I got here. I came in early to get first in line, but still…”

“I know, right?” another woman chimed in, frustration lacing her tone. “Even people who arrived after me got called in first. Wasn’t this supposed to be first come, first served?”

“Look on the bright side!” a third voice interjected, noticeably more upbeat than the others. “The best always comes last. Besides, if the interviews are still going, it means they haven’t chosen anyone yet. Otherwise, they wouldn’t waste everyone’s time.”

Patricia rolled her eyes as she wiped herself clean. She had overheard too many conversations like this to care anymore. While she agreed with some of what they were saying, she wasn’t interested in making friends.

To her, all these girls were enemies.

They were her competition.

A competition she would and should win.

Just as Patricia flushed the toilet, a loud and abrupt noise startled her. She flinched, nearly hitting her leg against the toilet.

“What are you doing?!” one of the women outside shrieked. “Hey—what—stop it!”

Patricia’s brows knitted together as the sounds of a struggle echoed through the restroom. Her curiosity was piqued, prompting her to carefully crack open the cubicle door and peek out. Through the large mirror above the sinks, she caught sight of two women dragging the third into the farthest stall.

“Huh?” Patricia wrinkled her nose in confusion. ‘How did their little chat turn into this?’

“Stop—! Why are you doing this?!” the struggling woman cried. She thrashed against them, making it difficult for them to shove her inside the cubicle. “Aren’t we friends?! What are you doing — stop!”

“Friends?” one of the aggressors scoffed. “Sure, I guess we are. So, if we’re friends, why don’t you just drop your dream of becoming T. Mouse’s assistant and let us have a chance instead?”

“What?! Are you out of your mind?!”

“I’m sorry, hun, but this is a competition. We’re not here to make friends.” The other woman yapped, exerting more force to shove their so-called friend into the stall.

‘Gosh…’ Patricia’s expression soured, as if she had seen this coming from a mile away. ‘I knew it. I know evil when I see one.’

Shaking her head, she tiptoed out of her cubicle. These two had approached her earlier, too. The way they had snatched her résumé from her hands had been a dead giveaway—they were just trying to scope out their biggest competition. They had left Patricia alone when they saw her résumé.

Quite insulting, to be honest.

As the scuffle continued behind her, Patricia’s gaze landed on something to the side. A mop leaned against the wall.

Pursing her lips, she reached for it, a mischievous smile creeping onto her face.

“Hehe,” she giggled, taking the mop with her.

—

“Hey!!”

Minutes later, one of the women slammed her hands against the cubicle door. “Open this door! Hey—you bitches!”

The other two cackled outside.

“Don’t worry,” one of them remarked as she walked to the sink, washing her hands. “We’ll let someone know you’re here… after the interviews are over.”

The other woman folded her arms across her chest. “Try to understand, alright? You said you already have a job, so you can always go back to that. This just isn’t your opportunity.”

“I don’t care! Open this door!” the trapped woman shrieked, banging on it furiously. She yanked at the handle, but it didn’t budge. The other girls had stacked things outside to keep it shut. “You bitches! Do you really think if you get the job, I won’t report this? How pathetic do you have to be to stoop this low?!”

“Yeah? And what if one of us gets hired?” One of the women smirked, applying a fresh coat of lipstick. “You think you’ll ever set foot in Prime Group again? Remember what role we’re aiming for. Before you even get near the CEO, you’d have to go through the assistant first.”

“All those medals and achievements, yet you don’t understand how the real world works,” the other sneered.

Laughing, the two turned to leave. But then—

“Huh?” The woman who reached for the doorknob frowned.

“What’s wrong?” her companion asked.

“It’s locked.”

“Huh?” The other woman tried the handle, yanking at it. Nothing. “What—why won’t it open?”

Inside the cubicle, the trapped woman froze, listening intently.

“Let’s try together—” one of the girls suggested. They both pulled on the door, but it barely rattled, as if something was blocking it from the outside.

—

Outside, Patricia smirked.

She had wedged the mop’s handle between the door and the frame, effectively trapping them inside.

“Hey!” she called, crossing her arms under her chest. The rattling stopped. She knew they had heard her. “I’m sorry, girls, but this is a competition. And I also have to survive. I hope you understand. Anyway, I’ll let someone know you’re here… after the interview.”

She giggled as she turned away. “Oh, and by the way—karma’s a bitch.”

“I am the bitch.” With that, Patricia strutted off, laughing wickedly.

Meanwhile, the girls in the restroom screamed in fury—except for the one still locked in the cubicle, who suddenly burst out laughing.