Sacked for Scamming at the Service Center

"Adriano, is there some kind of mix-up?" Chad Graham stammered, his voice laced with guilt and nerves.

"Mix-up?" I snorted. "You think I'm the type to make trouble out of nothing? This isn't a discussion. It's a directive. Handle your employee right now!"

My harsh words took him aback. He recovered quickly, trying to placate me. "Take it easy, man. Pass the phone to her. I'll figure out what happened."

I sneered, handing the phone to the manager, Beryl Merritt.

She rolled her eyes and grabbed it half-heartedly. "I already told you, Chad. Cut ties with these freeloading relatives. They just use your name to score perks. This one is the worst, thinking he can bail after the maintenance is done."

Chad tried to explain, but she steamrolled him. "You're just too nice, always hung up on family ties. If you can't make tough calls, that's fine. I'll be the bad person today."

She hung up, tossed the phone back, and jutted her chin out. "Heard that? Chad is not bothering with your drama. The total is $280,500, and I'll knock off the $500. Cash, card, or transfer? Pay up, or security is showing you the door!"

She stressed her tone at the end of her speech, making the threat crystal clear. Her sheer nerve and cluelessness made me laugh.

In fact, no one had dared to pull this crap with me in years.

Right then, the VIP room door swung open, and Chad hustled in, jogging over with a forced smile. "Adriano, hey. This is a total screw-up. Ms. Merritt is really just doing her job. Don't take it personally."

Before I could say a word, Beryl howled like a banshee, "Chad, come on! I'm looking out for you here. You want to let every sketchy type use your name to bleed the business dry? That'd make you happy?"

She grabbed his arm and shook it, all the while shooting me a provocative glare. I'd be a fool if I couldn't figure out what was going on.

That explained why a mid-level manager like her was so arrogant. She had an inside track.

Confirming my suspicion, Chad squeezed out a grin and went for the family angle. "Beryl is my girlfriend. We're getting engaged next month. We'll all be family, seeing each other around. Let me pick up the tab, okay?"

"No need," I refused flatly, dissatisfied with his attitude.

If not for our family ties and pitying his situation back then, he'd still be scraping by at job fairs.

The whole setup for this service center—the design, the decor, the business plan, the connections, and even the seed money—came straight from me. I'd kept it quiet to spare his ego, so he had no idea I was the real owner.

But now, for this narrow-minded, toxic woman, he was ready to burn bridges. If that was how he wanted it, I wasn't pulling punches anymore.