Wilfred seemed to find my voice familiar, but Fiona's sudden whimpering beside him disrupted his thoughts. His tone turned vicious.
"Then don't blame me for teaching you a lesson my way."
He hung up before I could say another word.
Less than five minutes later, a bodyguard pushed through the door carrying a briefcase. He opened it to reveal stacks of crisp bills—a million dollars, neatly arranged.
"Mr. Rivera's orders: whoever slaps this woman gets a thousand dollars. No limit. Keep going until Mrs. Rivera is satisfied. Any consequences, Mr. Rivera will handle."
My mind exploded. It felt like I was plummeting into an endless abyss.
I remembered last month when I'd had my eye on a spring outfit that cost twenty thousand dollars. My account was short by five thousand.
I'd called him to ask for a transfer, and all I got was complaints.
"Athena, the company's losing money right now. Can you cut back a little? You have work clothes, don't you? No need to waste money. I'll order you a couple of work outfits to rotate."
Yet here he was, throwing away a fortune just to make another woman smile.
Slap!
Someone struck first. A palm connected hard with my face.