Heat rushed to Emily’s face.
It wasn’t shame.
It was anger.
For three years, she had cared for Ethan as if he were her own child. She stayed up through his fevers, celebrated his first steps, planned his birthdays—while Richard traveled for business and pleasure. He provided money. She gave love. Yet to him, she was nothing more than “the help.”
Richard turned away with a look of smug superiority, fully expecting her to kneel down, pick up the money, and cry—like anyone else in her position would have done.
But he was wrong.
Emily didn’t shed a single tear.
She took a slow breath, untied her apron, and let it fall onto the expensive rug Richard had always forbidden her to step on. The silence in the room became heavy, almost unbearable.
“Mr. Cole, please wait a moment,” Emily said, her voice calm and icy—so controlled that even the security guards stiffened.
Richard spun around, his eyes bloodshot.
“You’re still here? Get out! You’re fired!”
“No, sir,” Emily replied, pulling a legal document from her bag—one she had kept for this exact moment.
“You cannot fire me. And I strongly suggest you read this before raising your voice at me again.”