He Paid Me $15 While His Mistress Wore My $15,000 Paycheck

Grandma had been wheeled through the emergency room doors 40 minutes earlier, and I had heard nothing since. A nurse approached me with a form. "Miss Winters, the operating room is ready. You need to take care of the 10,000-dollar deductible first. Insurance will cover the rest." I nodded, but my fingers shook so badly that I could barely tap the screen of my phone. It was the 1st, the day my biweekly paycheck arrived. Last month, I had gone drinking with a client until I developed stomach cramps and closed an 80-million-dollar contract. Just 2 days earlier, Damian Blackwood had held me in his arms and said, "Your project bonus and this pay period's salary come to 15,000 dollars. Consider it a reward for all your hard work, babe." I stared at the number on my screen, certain I had misread it. I checked five times, and my stomach sank a little further each time. It wasn't 15,000 dollars. It was 15 dollars. The nurse looked at me. "Will you be able to make the payment?" My throat closed up. The emergency room door cracked open. Through the glass, I saw Grandma on a gurney, her face completely drained of color. When she saw me, she managed to lift one hand and give me a weak wave. Her lips formed the words, "Don't be scared. I'm fine." She was the one fighting for her life, yet she was still trying to reassure me. I turned away and walked to the far end of the corridor before calling the Finance Department. Serena Crawford answered, sounding amused. "What is it?" "Serena, was there a mistake with my paycheck?" She gave a lazy laugh. "Oops. I misplaced the decimal point." I tightened my grip on the phone. "I was supposed to receive 15,000 dollars. You paid me 15 dollars." Serena laughed lightly. "Things have been hectic. I was busy and hit the wrong key." My voice tightened. "My grandmother is in the emergency room waiting for surgery. Can you transfer the rest now? Even part of it as an advance would help." She scoffed. "I can't fix it now. Payroll has already been finalized. We'll make up the difference on your next paycheck." "But Grandma is right outside the operating room, waiting for surgery!" I shouted. Serena clicked her tongue. "Ella, stop being so dramatic. You only have to wait 2 weeks. You're acting like someone in your family is about to die. What a morbid way to talk." She hung up. I leaned against the wall, took two steadying breaths, and called Damian. He answered almost immediately. I forced down my anger. "Damian, Serena paid me 15 dollars instead of 15,000 dollars. Grandma is having surgery today, and the hospital is waiting for the deductible. I need the company to transfer the rest now." Before he could respond, Serena's coy voice came through the phone. Serena was in Damian's office. "Damian, this is all my fault," she said through fake sobs. "I misplaced the decimal point, so Ella only received 15 dollars. She must hate me, but I swear I didn't do it on purpose. She called and yelled at me just now. What if she blames me if something happens to her grandmother?" My temper flared. "I didn't yell at her. I was only..." "Ella," Damian said coldly. "How many times have I told you that Serena is a shareholder's niece? She's young and new to the company. She made one small mistake. Do you have to bully her over it?" I had no time to defend myself. "Damian, Grandma is outside the operating room. The hospital is waiting for me to pay." He spoke as though the problem barely mattered. "Then cover it yourself for now. Is this really worth two phone calls and all this drama?" "Drama?" My voice began to tremble. "Grandma could die, and you think I'm being dramatic?" Serena's choked sobs came through the phone. "Damian, don't blame Ella. She's just worried about her grandmother. This is all my fault. I'll resign tomorrow. I don't deserve to work here." "Why would you resign?" Damian snapped. Then he turned on me. "Are you happy now, Ella? You pushed Serena so far that she wants to resign, all over one paycheck. I'm in a meeting with investors. I don't have time for this tantrum." The line went dead. I stood alone in the hospital corridor as my phone screen went dark. Grandma turned her head on the gurney and smiled at me. "Ella, don't worry about me. I can wait." The green line on the monitor rose and fell. I applied for every loan I could find, called everyone in my contacts, and maxed out three credit cards. When the nurse came back to ask about the payment for the fourth time, the monitor's alarm began to blare. A doctor came out, removed his mask, and slowly shook his head. Grandma was gone. She had died before I could raise the money. I collapsed beside the gurney and sobbed until my voice gave out. By the time I walked out of the hospital, night had fallen. My phone lit up. Serena had sent me a private message. In the photo, Serena was wearing my blue silk robe. Her neck was covered in hickeys as she leaned against Damian's bare chest. He was asleep beside her. The caption was only one line. Serena: He just rolled off me. He won't be coming home tonight. I scrolled back and found another post from an hour earlier. The photo showed a narrow, diamond-studded Cartier bracelet around Serena's wrist. I had stopped to admire that same bracelet in the store window three times the month before but could never bring myself to buy it. Serena: Pretty, isn't it? It cost 15,000 dollars. Damian bought it with your paycheck, so I could only send you 15 dollars. The company was a little short on cash. Hope you understand. I stood beneath the streetlight, cold all the way through. At last, I understood why Damian defended Serena every time and scolded me whenever she complained. They had been sleeping together all along. I stared at those two messages for a long time. Then I took screenshots and saved them. The next morning, I arrived at the office on time. Damian saw me and smiled. "Your grandmother's okay now? Good. At least you still made it to work." I said nothing. I slipped my resignation letter into the stack of documents waiting for his signature that morning. He signed every page without looking. Only then did he look up and frown. "We need to talk about yesterday. Stop picking on Serena. She's a shareholder's niece. You made her cry, and then I had to comfort her." I picked up the resignation letter he had signed, folded it, and placed it in my bag. "Don't worry, Damian. After today, you'll never have to comfort her on my account again."