Page 15 of My Ruthless Neighbor

She glares up at me. “And you stop accusing me of lying.”

“Oh, but you are lying, aren’t you? You have been since you came here.”

She stands straighter, our chests almost grazing. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because I know for a fact that you and Archer can never be childhood sweethearts.”

“Now I am offended!”

I snort.

“I don’t give two fucks if you believe me or not,” Summer says calmly.

“Well, you should, because you are about to be thrown out of this building if you don’t get the fuck out of here in ten seconds.”

“Excuse me?”

“I am done with your lying ass.”

I begin to pull away when she grabs my tie. Jerking me to her, she says, “You are going to regret this day. The moment Archer finds out—”

“Oh, he found out, all right.” Wrapping my fingers around her small wrist, I jerk it away from my tie.

“What do you mean?” She asks, frowning.

“If I ever catch sight of you anywhere near my agency, I’ll call the cops on you.”

She stills, her face hardening. “You don’t call the shots here.”

I smirk darkly. “But I do, considering I am the owner of this building.”

Summer pales, her eyes bulging. When she opens her mouth, her voice is nothing but a whisper. “That’s not true.”

My jaw tightens. She thinks I am lying. The irony. “It is. And you are lucky I am not taking any strict actions against you. Get your things and get out.”

She shakes her head. “You are Archer Kim?”

“Yes. And I am not youranything.Least of all a close friend.”

She just stands there, staring at me. It’s a shock, my revelation. I guess this is the first time she was caught in her lie. And in the worst way possible at that.

When she doesn’t move, I repeat. “You are no longer needed here, Ms. Donovan. Don’t waste my time and see yourself out.Now.”

That shakes her out of her thoughts. “I know I lied. But can’t you give me a chance?”

My jaw tightens so hard, I'm surprised it doesn’t snap. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“Please. You don’t understand…” She wrings her trembling hands. “I need a job. I need money.” She bows her head.

Without wasting my breath, I reach into my pocket and pull out my wallet. Taking out several hundred-dollar bills, I say, “Here. Take it and get out.”

Her head snaps up. She looks at the money and shakes her head. “I need a job, not charity.”

Enough is enough.

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