Elizabeth POV
What’s he going to do? Throw me out? I’d be super grateful. But it’s Christian Reed, he lived to prove me wrong.
The door barely closed behind me when his voice came, low and lethal.
“Three million dollars, Elizabeth.”
I turned, pulse hammering in my throat. He stood by the desk, his jacket off, sleeves rolled up, muscles coiled with fury. His jaw clenched, veins prominent in his forearm as he gripped his whiskey glass.
“So that’s what you’re mad about,” I said coldly, throwing my purse on the couch.
trying to sound indifferent when inside, my stomach was twisting.
“Not that you fired people for simply existing around me. No. It’s the money.”
His glass hit the desk with a sharp clink as he advanced. “You think I care about three million dollars?” His laugh was dark
