EIGHT

JULIE

“Now, that arsehole, Adam would regret all he ever did to me. I would be his worst nightmare. As for Samantha, I’ll make sure she gives me my respect, even if it means going to war for it” I soliloquized.

It’s been about two weeks since I resumed work at the Jones Group of Companies. Things were still very much like they used to be 6 years ago. The only difference was that I was more respected, unlike when I was still Adam’s little bitch whom he used to satisfy his never-ending urges.

Whenever I saw the face of Adam Jones, I saw that of a villain. One that promised me the whole world and threw me outside in the cold to die. Some days, I wished I could do more than yell at him; probably beat him up in retaliation for all that he made me pass through with my son.

I swore never to let him know Bryan was his. After all, he was nowhere to be found when I was striving in Birmingham, multitasking between work and taking care of the boy. That bastard doesn’t deserve to father my child!