$50 for My Villa? I Made Her Regret

Chapter 3

Just before closing time, a Porsche screeched to a stop in front of the office building, flashy enough to make everyone look.

Sylvie rushed outside, cheeks flushed and eyes shining, then threw herself into the man's arms. A few minutes later, she swept back into the office arm in arm with Cyrus Howe, her chin lifted like she owned the place.

Cyrus looked like a man trying very hard to look rich. With a dramatic wave of his hand, he ordered two delivery drivers to carry in boxes of pastries and desserts. "Everyone, you've all worked hard. Treats are on me. Help yourselves."

Cyrus draped an arm around Sylvie and sauntered over to me. He looked me up and down, pulled a hundred-dollar bill from his pocket, and tossed it onto my keyboard.

"You must be Jenna. Go wipe down my Porsche. Consider it a tip. That should cover half a day's pay for you, right?"

I gave him a cold look. "I don't need your money. Besides, that Porsche is rented, isn't it? Rental cars come cleaned. You don't need to pay me to keep up the act."

Cyrus's face went stiff. Panic flickered in his eyes.

Sylvie immediately shrieked, "Jenna, what is wrong with you? My fiancé is worth tens of millions of dollars. You're only saying that because you're jealous!"

Heath hurried over with a fawning smile and ushered Cyrus toward the conference room. "Mr. Howe, please don't waste your time on someone who doesn't know her place. This way, please."

Soon, the entire department was dragged into the conference room for a mandatory team-building meeting.

Cyrus stood at the front of the conference room and cleared his throat, as if he were about to announce a merger. "For this retreat, I want everyone to get a real taste of luxury. The hundred-million-dollar villa is already under my name, and on top of that, I've arranged a private jet and a luxury yacht."

He paused, then looked troubled. "However, services at this level require VIP identity verification. To confirm the final headcount and secure everyone's access, we need a refundable VIP deposit from each person. The amount ranges from five thousand to twenty thousand dollars. Don't worry. Once the trip is over, every cent will be returned to you."

The conference room fell completely silent.

Cyrus quickly added, "Anyone who pays for the twenty-thousand-dollar VIP upgrade will get priority access to the master suite and the superyacht package."

The promise of luxury went straight to everyone's head. Desperate for the so-called superyacht spots, my coworkers threw caution to the wind and started scanning the QR code one after another.

Heath himself sent over fifty thousand dollars. "Mr. Howe, put me down for the top-tier VIP package. Save me a seat at your table. We'll have a few drinks together."

I stood up and fixed my eyes on Cyrus. His gaze had already started darting around the room. "These payments aren't going through a company account, and with this much money involved, this is shady at best and fraud at worst. I suggest everyone stop sending him money."

Heath jabbed a finger at me right then and there. "Jenna, are you allergic to seeing other people do well? If you don't want this perk, then get out. Don't ruin the mood for everyone else."

Facing the entire department's accusations, I still refused to pay.

Sylvie seized the chance at once. "Since Jenna refuses to contribute, she can handle the retreat logistics. She can carry the luggage, run errands, clean up, and mop the floors. Otherwise, I'll report her for refusing to support the team. The director selection is next week, isn't it? She can forget about it."

To protect my shot at the promotion, I clenched my jaw and nodded. I let them treat me like the team's errand girl. Before long, Thanksgiving break arrived, and the whole team flew to Sanyara.

Sylvie stood by the roadside in head-to-toe designer clothes, barking orders while I hauled everyone's luggage.

Just then, my phone buzzed in my pocket. A message had come in from the villa's butler.