“Scared?” he barked a dry laugh. “You’re a single mom with eight kids, right? What happens when I tell Payroll you’re not meeting performance targets?”
I stepped closer. “Do it. But if I lose my job, I’ll make sure every journalist in this city knows exactly how you treat women here. You want to play games? Bring it, Evan.”
He sneered. “You’ll regret this.”
“Not as much as you will.”
His eyes darkened. He leaned in close, his breath foul with something synthetic and cheap. “You’re going to wish you stayed quiet.”
I didn’t flinch. I stood there, heart pounding, teeth clenched, and let him see I wasn’t scared. Not of him. Not of anyone.
He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
I exhaled slowly.
The high of adrenaline faded quickly, leaving me shaky and nauseous. I wanted to scre
