Page 15 of My Bossy Billionaire Attorney

“Yes, I know he is. He has a lot of flaws, but he didn’t fire you after you barged into his office and accused him of doing something he didn’t. Then you snuck into his office today, which is unacceptable, and you still work here.”

Coming from Michael or Peter, I might have ignored the words and walked away. But Brenda says it in such a way that it strikes a chord.

Am I the nagging type, like he said? I mean, I know I shouldn’t have snuck into his office. And maybe I should have been less hasty to falsely accuse him of being someone he’s not.

But I was livid that day, and I did apologize.

And today…I technically didn’t sneak in. I was worked up that he made Peter partner, and I ended up at his office, only to find it open and empty.

And any sensible person in a panic would have hidden under the desk. I open my mouth to defend myself when my phone rings.

Giving Brenda a polite nod, I turn away, grabbing my phone from my pants pocket while I head down the hallway. My eyes narrow, and smoke pours from my ears when I see who is calling.

I ignore the first ring and contemplate ending the second one, but remembering how persistent Brandon can be, I answer.

“What do you want?”

“My ring, Savannah.”

“Yeah. Hello to you, too,” I say, dipping my words in a deep pool of sarcasm.

He ignores it. “My lawyer sent you a demand letter, asking for my ring, now where is it.”

“I will return it on one condition, you write letters to everybody we invited to our wedding, explaining that we had to call it off because you cheated with my best friend for a year,” I hiss.

“I thought you handled that?” He asks like the oblivious, entitled person that he is. “You said you wrote letters and sent back the gifts.”

“Exactly!” I yell just as the elevator doors open. I take a deep breath as I hear footsteps approaching, jump into the elevator, and press the button for my floor. “I did everything.”

“You went off with her to God knows where while I took all the responsibility. I will not give you the ring back just so you can give it to her. Instead, I’ll sell it.”

“No!” He shouts in my ear, and I have to hold the phone at arm’s length. “Don’t do that. Don’t sell the ring. I need it,” he adds in a pleading tone.

Something about his tone makes me curious.

“Why? Do you want to give it to her?”

“No. I’m not giving it to her. We broke up last week, and I wouldn’t marry her anyway.”

“So?”

“I lost my job,” he confesses.

A snicker wrenches out of my mouth—a snicker accompanied by disbelief.

“You lost your job? How? Why?”

“My boss is a traditional man. He heard that we canceled the wedding and why. He fired me because he didn’t think he could trust a man who would cheat on his fiancée.” he says dejectedly. “And now I have someone who wants to buy the ring.”

“If I sell it to them, I might be able to pay my rent next month. Please, don’t sell the ring or throw it away. I beg you.” The desperation is evident in his tone.

I laugh loudly, and when I see myself in the mirror, I look like a woman finally getting her revenge.

“I don’t care if you are locked out of your apartment or forced to live on the street. I will not give you the ring, Brandon. You have made my life a living hell.”

“I’ll write the letters. I’ll do anything you want me to do,” he says pleadingly. “Please, Savannah. Whatever you want, I’ll do it.”

I feel the seed of revenge germinating into a tree that grows through my body.

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