"Exactly, and those big deals of hers weren't even clean. I saw her with my own eyes going into a hotel with a client in the middle of the night."
"Who knows what kind of disgusting tricks she pulled behind closed doors."
"Right? She's an absolute disgrace to the Delgado Group."
"You— all of you—"
I stared at these people, the same ones who used to call me "Philippa" this and "Philippa" that, now tripping over themselves to stab me in the back just to curry favor with the new director.
All I felt was a bone-deep chill and revulsion.
Bertram delivered his ultimatum. "Philippa Sullivan, the people have spoken loud and clear."
"Sign this penalty agreement today, hand back the money, and I might still let you walk out of here in one piece."
"If you refuse, I'm calling the police. Extortion and embezzlement. That kind of record follows you for life. What company would ever touch you after that?"
I looked around this office, at this company I had built with my own two hands, and let out a cold laugh. "Fine. You're all just wonderful."
"I'm not paying back a single cent. Go ahead and call the police."
I snatched the agreement off the table, ripped it to shreds, and hurled the pieces straight into Bertram's face. Then I turned and headed for the door.
I was done playing servant. With my abilities, I could make eight million anywhere.
"Leaving? Not so fast." Tamara's eyes turned venomous in an instant. She snapped her fingers, the sound crisp and sharp.
Four or five hulking men burst into the room and locked the door behind them.
I tried to force my way through. I'd barely reached the doorway when two massive bodyguards shoved me hard.
I stumbled and crashed to the floor. My forehead struck the sharp corner of the coffee table, and something warm immediately trickled down my temple.
"Let go of me!" I struggled to get back up.
But Tamara walked over to me.
She pulled out her phone, unhurried, and dialed a video call. Then she shoved the screen in my face.
"Recognize this place?"
One glance was all it took. Every drop of blood in my body went cold.
On the screen was the nursing home where my grandmother lived.
Inside the ICU, several men were roughly shoving nurses aside. One of them already had his hand on the ventilator tube keeping my grandmother alive.
She was unconscious, but her brow was furrowed tight, as if she were enduring tremendous pain.
"Stop it! Don't touch her!" I thrashed and fought, but the bodyguards pinned me to the floor.
"Tamara Cooley, if you lay a finger on my grandmother, I will kill you!"
Crack. Tamara's palm connected with my face so hard my ears rang and my vision blurred.
"Shut your mouth, you worthless tramp." She grabbed a fistful of my hair and forced my eyes back to the screen.
"Here's something you didn't know. Just yesterday, I used the money you earned to buy that nursing home."
"Your grandmother's life is in my hands now. The second I say pull the plug, they pull it."
On the screen, the hand actually switched off the ventilator.
My grandmother's body seized violently, convulsing on the bed. The heart monitor shrieked with alarms.
"No! Please, no!" Tears poured down my face. Every wall inside me shattered at once.
"I'm begging you, leave her alone! I'll sign! Whatever you want me to sign, I'll sign it!"
Tamara smiled, satisfied, and spoke into the phone. "Stand down for now."
She casually picked up a cup of dirty water that had been used to wipe down tables and poured it onto the carpet in front of me.
"You want your grandmother to live? Sure."
"In a civilized society, it's survival of the fittest. The world doesn't need superstitious old deadweight like her."
Tamara pointed at the puddle of filthy water on the floor. "But lucky for you, I'm a generous person."
"Get on your knees right now. Lick that clean. Then sign the papers. And maybe, just maybe, I'll be merciful enough to let her live one more night."
