“Think you have a chance because you look a bit like the woman in this picture? Well, let me tell you—my husband hates this woman’s guts. The only reason he keeps you around is because you resemble her, so he can take his sweet revenge. If you have any sense, you’ll get out while you still can.”
Zoey kept her head lowered, hiding her expression. Her voice came out low and muffled.
“Understood.”
June even had someone draft a resignation letter on the spot and ordered Zoey to give it to Fletcher.
When Zoey brought the letter to his study, she found Fletcher drunk again, slouched in the armchair, staring blankly.
His eyes were fixed on a pendant hanging on the wall.
One glance and Zoey recognized it—a cheap trinket from a street stall.
How could a billionaire like Fletcher treasure something so worthless?
Before she could ask, he spoke first.
“This was a gift from Ashley. Back then, I was dirt poor. She’d been with me since she was eighteen. She told me as long as this little ‘good luck’ pendant stayed with me, I’d become a rich man someday.”
A faint, bitter smile crossed his face.
“Shame the day came, but she’s not here to see it.”