Chapter 89
Serena
Wesley was still standing in the doorway, his face cycling through expressions too fast to track. But mostly—mostly he looked furious. And confused. And shocked.
"Fuck," he muttered, staring at his phone. "Fuck. How does she have this much money?"
His voice was low, but in the sudden silence of the office, everyone could hear it.
Vanessa spun on him, her face flushed. "I'd like to know that too! You PROMISED me she couldn't pay! You said she was broke! That's why we came here with—" she gestured at the thugs, "—with all this!"
Wesley's face went from red to ashen. "We cornered Lance yesterday. Looked him in the eye and asked if he'd given her a single damn dollar." His jaw worked. "He said no. And Lance—the man's a fucking sphinx, but he doesn't lie. Not ever. So I don't—I don't understand where she—"
My ears perked up instantly.
"Oh?" I stepped closer, my smile widening. "You discussed me with Lance yesterday? How sweet. Tell me more. What else did my sugar daddy say about me?"
Wesley's head snapped up, his face going dark. "Shut up!"
"Because for all your accusations and slander," I continued, ignoring his command, "you got one thing right—he is superior to you in every way. Smarter. More accomplished. Actually knows how to run a business instead of just inheriting a seat at the table—"
"I said SHUT UP!"
Vanessa stepped forward, her earlier shock replaced by something uglier. More desperate. "Just because you paid doesn't mean you get to be smug about it! Who knows if that money is even clean? For all we know, it's dirty money. Laundered. Illegal." Her smile turned vicious. "We might return it. Report you. Tell everyone you tried to pay us off with black market funds—"
"You're reaching," I said flatly. "And you know it."
"Am I?" She turned to the black-suited men who'd been edging toward the door. "Hey! Don't leave yet. Change of plans."
The men paused, looking uncertain.
Vanessa's voice took on a sharp, commanding edge. "Forget the debt. New job. Trash this place. Smash the computers. Break the furniture. Destroy everything."
"Vanessa—" Wesley started.
"And if you accidentally hit someone—" Vanessa continued, her eyes locked on mine, "—that's fine too. Collateral damage. Mistakes happen. I'll cover the medical bills. Call it an unfortunate accident."
The air in the room went cold.
"You wouldn't dare," I said, but my heart was suddenly pounding. "I'll call the police right now—"
"Go ahead!" Vanessa's smile was all teeth. "By the time they get here, your precious little office will be rubble. And oops, some people got hurt in the chaos. So sad. So unfortunate."
Wesley was looking at her like he'd never seen her before. "Vanessa, wait. These guys were hired to intimidate, not to actually hurt anyone. We can't—we can't really—"
"Really what?" Vanessa whirled on him, her face flushed with rage. "Really fight back? Really make her pay for humiliating you? For paying you off like you were some kind of prostitute she got tired of fucking?"
Wesley flinched.
"I don't know why I'm with someone as pathetic as you!" Vanessa's voice rose, shrill and furious. "She just told the entire world you were her plaything! That she got BORED of you! And you're standing here worried about what we 'can't really do'?" She jabbed a finger at him. "She's going to walk all over you forever if you don't grow a spine!"
She turned back to the thugs.
"Do it," she commanded. "Trash everything. NOW."
The men exchanged glances. Then, slowly, they started to raise their bats.
My mind was racing. I could call the police—was already reaching for my phone—but Vanessa was right. They wouldn't get here in time. And these men looked serious. Professional. The kind who'd do exactly what they were paid for without asking questions.
"Everyone out!" I shouted at my employees. "Leave! Now! Don't risk yourselves for—"
"No."
I turned, shocked. Pizza guy—Jason, I'd learned earlier—was stepping forward. Not backing away. Stepping toward the threat.
"Boss, you've spent all morning worrying about us. Protecting us. Thinking about our safety, our jobs, our futures." His voice was steady. Determined. "How could we be selfish enough to run away when you need us?"
The girl from earlier moved beside him, crossing her arms. "We're not leaving you here alone."
One of the other guys—tall, broad-shouldered, looked like he'd played college football—cracked his knuckles. "You want to trash our office? You'll have to go through us first."
"Are you insane?" I hissed. "These are professional thugs with weapons—"
"And we're people who just watched our boss drop two million dollars to protect this company," Jason shot back. "You think we're going to run away and let them destroy everything you're building?"
More employees were moving forward now. Forming a line between me and the advancing thugs. Rolling up their sleeves. Setting their jaws.
My throat went tight. These people—these strangers I'd met this morning, who'd been ready to abandon ship hours ago—were about to get into a physical fight to protect me. To protect what we were building together.
"You don't have to—" I started.
"We know," Sarah said. "We're doing it anyway."
The thugs were advancing now, bats raised. My team was bracing for impact. This was about to turn into an absolute disaster—
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?"
The voice cut through the tension like a gunshot.
Everyone froze.