The Machine I "Destroyed" Was Mine All Along

My junior accidentally broke the most expensive piece of equipment in the lab and asked me to help fix it.

I had just started touching the instrument when she suddenly stepped back, tears brimming, and said, "Michelle, I can't take responsibility for this. I really can't afford it."

Before I could even process her words, Nicky Hardy—the unattainable crush I had chased for three years—rushed in and shielded her behind him. Then he turned to me with a glare that could freeze fire.

"Michelle, don't go too far. You can't expect her to take the fall for you."

I stared at him, dumbfounded. "You know full well I was shoved into this research group. I don't understand any of this stuff. How could I do the experiments on my own?"

His eyes grew colder, dripping with disdain.

"I've been saying it—what can a nepo baby actually accomplish? And now the equipment's ruined, and you still have the nerve to push the blame onto Elizabeth?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but then I caught a flicker of triumph across Elizabeth Horwitz's face in Nicky's arms. That was when it clicked.

They only knew I got in through connections—they had no idea I'd financed this very equipment myself.

They wanted to play their petty power games over a piece of lab equipment worth over ten million?

Interesting.

I was too lazy to waste words on them and simply pointed to the corner where the camera hung. "Whoever broke it, the footage will show, won't it?"

Nicky Hardy let out a derisive snort.

"And who else could it be but you? Elizabeth has always cherished these instruments. And you—know nothing and still insisted on joining the research group."

I looked at him and couldn't help but smirk.

He clearly knew I joined the research group just for him.

I had confessed to him once. He had said, cool and detached, "Michelle, I don't deserve you."

At the time, I thought he was just reserved and slow to warm up. After all, he never rejected my presence. We'd have the occasional meal together, and he'd smile at me. I stayed up late helping him organize literature, and he'd bring me a cup of tea. During holidays, he'd even give me little gifts.

He dangled me there. Neither cold nor warm, neither distant nor near—just occasionally tossing me a sweet, letting me think I had a chance.

And now, he stood in front of me, cradling someone else in his arms, looking at me like I was trash.

Elizabeth poked her head out from behind him just in time and whispered, "Michelle, I know you're under a lot of pressure. The professor suddenly put you in the group, and everyone thought it was strange… but the equipment's broken, and someone has to take responsibility."

Her voice was soft, gentle, even tinged with sympathetic understanding.

"Besides, the professor said this equipment is very valuable. I can understand why you'd be afraid of being held accountable.