Her call came through seconds later, worry bleeding through every word.
"Boss, are you sure about burning bridges with Ms. White like this? Your family needs money—your mom's medical bills..." She exhaled sharply. "And that night—you shouldn't have transferred that hundred thousand to the company out of spite. You're basically down two hundred thousand now!"
As if I didn't know exactly what that money meant.
But if I wanted Blair gone, that hundred thousand was the price of admission.
My phone buzzed again. My boyfriend.
"Bella, what the hell is wrong with you? Did you use my bank card to transfer five thousand to your company?"
"Yes. My card hit its daily limit, so I used yours. But I transferred it back to you from a different account right after."
Silence stretched between us.
Then: "I think that was pretty disrespectful. And I heard you got fired." A pause. "I think we should break up."
Before I could respond, the line went dead.
When I tried calling back, my number had already been blocked.
Back home, I lit a cigarette.
Fired and dumped in the same day. I had to be the unluckiest person alive.
That's when my parents showed up.