Wild Billionaire Romance - Chapter 26: Chapter 26

DESTINY
The day started out shitty.
I’d had a message from my brother back in Jersey and my mother’s health was rapidly deteriorating. I was filled with the usual guilt and angst as I sent him my last two hundred bucks.
Money didn’t make up for twelve years of absence, and I only hoped he understood how I felt. My family life had pretty much ended when I was eighteen. But that didn’t mean I’d stopped caring.
Two hundred dollars didn’t make up for anything, but it was all I could afford. Rent was due. My roommate skipped out. And if I didn’t give in to my manager, I was likely going to get fired.
The weight of the guilt I carried was enough to bring me to my knees. Add to it the pressure of trying to maintain my job and keep the wolves at bay, and it was a perfect recipe for disaster.
Mr. Royce’s beady eyes pinned me in place, and I did my best to hide the revulsion I felt. He was a slimy creep who used his position to force women into bed.
Testing the goods.
That was what I’d heard him call it when he bragged about his supposed conquests to the male employees.
Not that they liked him, either. No one did. His vibe was just cringe.
Like all caps. Boldface. CRINGE.
What was it about guys like that who thought they needed to date tons of women to prove their manhood? And was it even a conquest if you used the threat of firing someone to make them go out with you?
It was so fucking unfair. Why did some people think this behavior was okay? But I was in no position to voice my disdain.
I just stood there, and I hated myself for it. Mr. Royce pretended to check my uniform over, but it was just an excuse to stare at my tits and ass for way longer than necessary. The uniform was a purple corset and black pants with high heels.
But yes. I was breaking the rules.
“You’re wearing the wrong shoes. That’s your third infraction this quarter, Destiny,” he said, smacking his lips together.
I shivered at the sound, and not in a good way. Mouth noises were a serious pet peeve of mine, and somehow this man made them even when he wasn’t eating. So gross.
“I’m going to have to send you home⁠—”
“No! Mr. Royce, please. Um, my roommate skipped out on me, and the rent is due, and well, it’s my birthday. I could really use the money. Please do me this favor,” I whispered, hating myself for showing weakness and begging this jerk.
“Well then, if you promise to be grateful,” he said, heavy emphasis on the last word. “Put on a big smile on that face, Destiny, and get your ass out there. Oh, and I expect you to kick back 20% of your tips to the house to make up for this. You can deliver them to my office after your shift, and we’ll talk,” Mr. Royce said, his gaze never rising above my tits.
I opened my mouth to say something, but what could I reply with? Shit. That was not what I meant when I asked him for a favor, but it was too late. I was going to have to run out the door at closing.
“See you later, Dollface.”
Mr. Royce smacked his gums together again. I swallowed back bile. It was all I could do to stop from throwing up the two chicken tenders I’d scarfed before the start of my shift from the tray in the employee breakroom.
“Sexist pig,” I muttered to myself, putting my fake smile in place as I scurried away from my asshole boss.
Mr. Royce had already reamed me out for wearing the wrong shoes tonight, but this was the first time he’d actually threatened to fire me. And docking my tips on top of the insinuation that I would give him any kind of favor after closing was just impalpable.
It really was a shitty day.