His to Claim, His to Ruin

Chapter 14

Lana

Sandy. Our manager. She was the reason Gwen and Stacy stopped. Everyone’s eyes drifted to her as she walked to where we were. Her facial expression explains everything. Annoyed, irritated, and deeply worried.

Seeing Sandy made me nibble my lip. I knew it. I gently pulled my s**t together as I had no one to help me stand up. Who would've anyway? No one in the audience given that they are entertained.

Tears began to stream down Stacy's face as she held Sandy's arms, begging for sympathy like she always does, acting like she's mistreated and I'm not.

“Lana has started it!” Stacy affirmed. “Right everyone? You saw her throwing the cloth in our faces!”

And everyone began to roar.

“Stacy is telling the truth.”

“Lana started it first. Punish her.”

“Don't pity that girl. She's unfair and deceptive.”

Those are some hurtful comments I got.

“Shut up, all of you!” Sandy raised her voice. She pulled her arm out of Stacy's grip, which made the woman astounded.

Our manager's actions left me in awe. Stacy is Sandy's favorite employee because she brings a lot of customers, and given that they are close, ain't no way she's gonna treat her like that.

I remembered the day Sandy was always complimenting Stacy for bringing in a lot of customers; she's basically the highest-paid escort at the Tune In club, to the point that special treatment is given to her.

Whatever Stacy does, our manager accepts it regardless of the harm she meant for others. Seeing she's being pushed away just like that piqued my attention.

“M-Miss Sandy…”

I glanced at the scratches on my arm. My right cheek is suffering from a little pain, so I guess there was a scratch on it. The heels I was wearing are now broken because Gwen used them against me.

“Assaulting a co-worker is against our policy, Stacy. You're aware of that, aren't you?” Her voice was stone-cold as she looked at her favorite employee.

Stacy dramatically held our manager's hand. “She's unfair! Sleeping with Facundo and deceiving him. What she did was morally wrong. I see myself as a victim of her vicious plans.”

My eyebrows arched. A small groan escaped my lips, realizing explaining myself to someone who has a victim-complex mentality means you're talking to a wall who won't understand a single thing you say.

To be honest, I'm tired. I'm f*****g tired.

“Accusing someone without an ounce of evidence is definitely wrong. Apologize to her now.” What made my eyes wince was Sandy urging Stacy and Gwen to apologize.

Her darkened eyes drifted to mine. Her stares express like she's gonna do something ferocious at any moment from now. Seconds had passed and no words came out from their mouths.

“Fine. If neither of you apologizes to Lana, then expect a fifty percent cut to your profit next month.”

A source of distress flashed on their faces. Mouth half-opened, eyes winced, and an overall astounded reaction.

“Miss Sandy!” Disbelief crawled to Gwen's skin.

“You—” Stacy couldn't finish her words along with her pointed index fingers at me.

Enraged by our manager's decision, Stacy walked out in front of everyone with Gwen silently following her behind.

Meanwhile, Sandy suddenly reversed her eyeballs from them to me. She was cool, casual, and simply unbothered while reading what her face had to say, but to no avail, I found nothing.

“Next time they browbeat you again, make no mistakes and tell me promptly.” She was definitely protecting her employees as evidenced by the words she used.

I took a deep breath and glanced at my manager. Rather than remembering her kindness, I gave her the torn check. “Facundo left abruptly after giving me my paycheck. It seems to be the reason why everyone’s gonna hate me now. Mind to tell the grounds for a raise?”

Sandy spoke plainly. “Keep it.”

“Having one more chance working is already a debt I don’t know how to pay. Multiple absences are equivalent to three strikes, and that means I should be kicked, but you didn’t,” I affirmed as I tried to give the excess pay. “Taking more is absurd.”

My manager only took a deep breath and said, “So what are you gonna do?”

“Take the raise. Give me the deduction to be fair with others. All of us are working equally.”

“Facundo will be back next week. I can’t issue another check. Wait for him.”

I went home with a sore body. Imagine having too much bullshit to handle all at once and suddenly, you didn’t know you’d broken down in the middle of the streets because other people won’t stop making your life a living hell?

That’s exactly how I felt when I left the club.

The cold oozing wind touched my skin while I let myself pour the emotions bottling up inside my chest.

Tight midi dress, broken heels, physically wounded body, and a tired soul.

I haven’t recovered from my family’s debt, the abrupt marriage with Salvatore Mancini, and now I have people at my workplace hating me.

Stacy would probably smile widely if she saw me crying. Breaking down because I haven’t figured out my s**t together. And Gwen might take a video of me and post it to social media since she’s always down for clout.

Club employees will basically watch me being humiliated, and that’s the drama they are waiting for.

My eyes set on the torn check. If Stacy hadn’t torn it, I might have bought my medicine and transferred the excess pay I got to Facundo’s account. And since life hates me so much, Facundo won’t show himself up until next week.

I tried to switch my phone to check if there was any remaining money in my bank account, but it died automatically, so I shoved my phone back in my dress pocket.

And just as I was about to leave the park, three men appeared upfront; tailored in clean black suits, wearing earpieces and shades. One of the three tapped his earpiece and spoke.

“We found your wife, Don.”