Jail for Me, Millions for Her - Chapter 8: Chapter 8
You are reading Jail for Me, Millions for Her, Chapter 8: Chapter 8. Read more chapters of Jail for Me, Millions for Her.
His words hung in the air, met only by my stubborn silence.
By the time the bedroom fell quiet again, he was already gone.
Even through my pounding hangover, I forced myself to call my colleagues and apologize.
Eric's voice suddenly cut through the line: "Let me guess—Adam again? Next time that bastard shows up, I'll handle him myself."
I gave a tired laugh. "In a fight? Please. You'd get wrecked. Besides, he's got a special grudge against you now—might fight dirty."
It was supposed to be a joke, but Eric's voice turned deadly serious: "I'm not scared of him."
Rubbing my temples, I muttered something noncommittal before hanging up.
On my first day back, Eric threw an impromptu welcome party at the office—complete with a stack of red envelopes thick enough to choke a horse.
When I tried refusing, he shoved them into my hands. "You moved out in a hurry. Take it."
The gesture made me think of Adam's pathetic $1 "bonus" check. The irony wasn't lost on me.
Some welcome—my first assignment was the same project Lily had recently snatched.
During the car ride, Eric kept fidgeting. "What if we run into Adam? Maybe I should go in alone—"
I stared out the window, my emotions already settling like dust.
Fate had other plans. We barely stepped through the corporate lobby before Lily materialized, dripping in designer labels and venom.
"Rachel," she purred, "do you know what everyone calls you now? Thief. Traitor." Her smirk widened. "And yet here you are, bold as brass."
Eric lunged forward, but I caught his arm.
Meeting Lily's gaze, I kept my voice ice-cold: "We both know the truth. I don't explain myself to liars." A deliberate pause. "But you? You specialize in stealing what isn't yours—first my marriage, now projects. Some labels stick, don't they?"
Lily's face flushed scarlet. Her hand flew up.
"You pathetic hag!" she shrieked, trembling with rage. "Your own husband pretends you don't exist while he spoils me rotten. Where's your dignity?"
I checked my watch with exaggerated calm. "My client's waiting. Do excuse me."
She seethed but didn't dare escalate with Eric glowering beside me.
Miraculously, the pitch was a slam dunk. Three years in prison hadn't erased a decade of corporate instincts.
"Contract's practically in the bag," I told Eric afterward.
He grinned, then hesitated. "Lily was here for the same deal. You sure we've got this?"
I almost laughed. From what I'd heard, Lily's "business acumen" amounted to batting her lashes at Adam's clients.
Watching her storm upstairs, I turned away—only to wake next morning to my prison mugshot trending online.
By the time the bedroom fell quiet again, he was already gone.
Even through my pounding hangover, I forced myself to call my colleagues and apologize.
Eric's voice suddenly cut through the line: "Let me guess—Adam again? Next time that bastard shows up, I'll handle him myself."
I gave a tired laugh. "In a fight? Please. You'd get wrecked. Besides, he's got a special grudge against you now—might fight dirty."
It was supposed to be a joke, but Eric's voice turned deadly serious: "I'm not scared of him."
Rubbing my temples, I muttered something noncommittal before hanging up.
On my first day back, Eric threw an impromptu welcome party at the office—complete with a stack of red envelopes thick enough to choke a horse.
When I tried refusing, he shoved them into my hands. "You moved out in a hurry. Take it."
The gesture made me think of Adam's pathetic $1 "bonus" check. The irony wasn't lost on me.
Some welcome—my first assignment was the same project Lily had recently snatched.
During the car ride, Eric kept fidgeting. "What if we run into Adam? Maybe I should go in alone—"
I stared out the window, my emotions already settling like dust.
Fate had other plans. We barely stepped through the corporate lobby before Lily materialized, dripping in designer labels and venom.
"Rachel," she purred, "do you know what everyone calls you now? Thief. Traitor." Her smirk widened. "And yet here you are, bold as brass."
Eric lunged forward, but I caught his arm.
Meeting Lily's gaze, I kept my voice ice-cold: "We both know the truth. I don't explain myself to liars." A deliberate pause. "But you? You specialize in stealing what isn't yours—first my marriage, now projects. Some labels stick, don't they?"
Lily's face flushed scarlet. Her hand flew up.
"You pathetic hag!" she shrieked, trembling with rage. "Your own husband pretends you don't exist while he spoils me rotten. Where's your dignity?"
I checked my watch with exaggerated calm. "My client's waiting. Do excuse me."
She seethed but didn't dare escalate with Eric glowering beside me.
Miraculously, the pitch was a slam dunk. Three years in prison hadn't erased a decade of corporate instincts.
"Contract's practically in the bag," I told Eric afterward.
He grinned, then hesitated. "Lily was here for the same deal. You sure we've got this?"
I almost laughed. From what I'd heard, Lily's "business acumen" amounted to batting her lashes at Adam's clients.
Watching her storm upstairs, I turned away—only to wake next morning to my prison mugshot trending online.
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