Claimed By The Billionaire At The Altar
I poured my coffee, gave them a mock salute, and strolled out.
And just like that, a new weapon was born—sarcasm.
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By Friday, the office was a battlefield and I was fully armed.
When Ada—the queen of sly remarks—snickered to someone loud enough for me to hear, “She probably doesn’t even have to touch her salary anymore,” I turned, leaned against her desk, and said with faux innocence, “Oh no, I still collect my salary. I just use it for snacks and impulse shopping. Shoes, bags, you know. The big stuff is his department.”
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