Chapter 3

Elio rushed in, eyes red. Two receptionists hurried after him, trying to stop him.

He planted himself in front of my desk, his voice shrill.

“Ansel! What gives you the right to turn me down?”

I put down my pen and looked up.

“You’re not qualified.”

His voice rose. His eyes reddened further, his face full of hurt.

“You’re lying! You hate me. You’re deliberately keeping me from earning a living! My family’s poor. Do you have any idea how much I need this job? You want me dead just because I’m poor?”

A few employees peered through the doorway.

I looked at him quietly, my gaze moving from his limited-edition sneakers to the expensive watch on his wrist.

I knew that watch.

Patek Philippe. Half a million dollars.

I had wanted the same model at an auction once.

It sat in the display case while I held my paddle, hesitantly lifting it before lowering it to my lap.

I had thought about it for ages. In the end, I couldn’t bring myself to bid.

Now Elio was standing at my desk, complaining about his life, that watch peeking out from his cuff and catching the light.

I bought my clothes with money I earned. Which of the designer labels he was wearing hadn’t been paid for by my wife?

He spent our money, then came to me and played poor and helpless.

I was about to speak when he suddenly pitched forward.

His forehead struck the corner of my desk with a crack.

Blood ran down his face. He fell to the floor, clutching his head and screaming.

“Sigourney, help… Your husband hit me…”

I froze behind my desk.

Sigourney strode in, took one look at his bloody face, and glared at me.

“Ansel!”

She crouched and carefully helped him up.

“How could you hit him? He’s a student! You’re the company’s COO, and you’re attacking a young man? Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”

I opened my mouth. Not a word came out.

She had never looked at me like that before.

It wasn’t that I had nothing to say. It was so absurd I couldn’t even find the energy to defend myself.

She helped Elio toward the door, then stopped without once looking back at me.

“You should resign. This company isn’t the place for you anymore.”

I sat in my chair, staring at the open door.

The employees outside looked away and drifted off.

I lowered my eyes to the papers on my desk, both hands braced against its edge.

Day faded into night outside the window. I stayed where I was.

Then I looked at the blood on the corner of my desk, still not quite dry, and laughed.

Sigourney and I had founded this company together. I had put up the money.

I owned half of it. Why should I leave just because she told me to?

My phone vibrated. A message from her appeared.

“Come home. We need to talk.”

I tightened my grip on the phone.

Every light in the living room was on when I opened the front door.

Sigourney sat on the sofa. Elio huddled in the armchair beside her, his forehead bandaged, his eyes swollen and red.

My hand curled into a fist at my side. I looked at them without expression.

“Don’t bring him here again. He makes my skin crawl.”