Chapter nine
870 Words
"That will be all," Max said, not looking up from the contract spread across his desk.
Charles, his chief secretary, stood and smoothed down his tie. "Of course, sir. I'll have the revisions ready by—"
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, frowning at the screen. "Apologies, Mr. Larson. I need to take this."
Max waved him off, already scanning the next page.
Charles stepped into the hallway, lifting the phone to his ear. "Hello?"
But Max's focus had shifted. Something felt off. He patted his jacket pocket. Then his pants. His frown deepened.
"Charles."
His secretary poked his head back through the doorway. "Sir?"
"That call—was it from my phone?"
Charles glanced at his screen, then nodded. "Yes, actually. I thought it was strange, but—"
"Call back. Now."
Charles didn't ask questions. He hit redial and handed the phone over.
Max pressed it to his ear, his jaw already tight.
---
In the lobby, Gia stood near the reception desk, Sharon perched on the bench beside her, swinging her little legs.
"There's no crime in being poor," Gia murmured, more to herself than anyone else. "Or overweight. I got healthy for my daughter. That's all that matters."
Her words were quiet. Steady. But her hands trembled as she folded them in front of her.
The receptionist—Christy—sat behind the desk with a smug smile plastered across her face, scrolling through her phone like Gia and Sharon were invisible.
Then Max's phone, sitting on the corner of Christy's desk, rang.
Christy snatched it up without hesitation.
"What?" she snapped.
There was a pause. Then a male voice, sharp and controlled. "Who is this?"
Christy's smile widened. She leaned back in her chair, twirling a pen between her fingers. "Oh, I get it. You're the janitor, aren't you? Trying to impersonate a Maxlarm Corp employee?" She laughed, cold and cutting. "I can already tell by your voice—you sound like a nobody."
Gia's stomach dropped. She stepped forward. "Christy, don't—"
Christy held up a hand, silencing her.
"I want to talk to Gia Haynes," the voice on the other end said, low and dangerous.
"Your bastard child and baby mama are in the lobby," Christy said, her tone dripping with disdain. "If I were you, I'd hurry up before I throw them out on the street where they belong."
Gia's breath caught. Sharon looked up at her, confused.
"You have no idea who you're messing with." The voice was ice now, barely restrained fury. "If Gia or Sharon gets hurt in any way, I swear to God I'm going to come down there and—"
"I'm *so* scared." Christy rolled her eyes. "What are you going to do, Mr. Janitor? Mop me to death?"
The other receptionists nearby snickered.
Christy's grin turned vicious. "I'm sick of looking at them."
She hung up.
Gia stared at her, her chest tight. "Christy—"
"Just let them wait here," Christy said, turning to the two security guards standing near the entrance. "When the loser pretending to be a Maxlarm employee shows up, call the police. Got it?"
The guards nodded.
Gia's hands curled into fists at her sides.
---
Max stared at the phone in his hand, the line dead, his pulse pounding in his ears.
Charles hovered near the doorway, his face pale. "Sir?"
"Find out who just answered my phone." Max's voice was deadly calm. "Whoever it is will never work in this business again."
He handed the phone back to Charles and stood, buttoning his jacket with sharp, precise movements.
"And call security. Tell them not to let anyone leave the lobby."
Charles nodded and scrambled to follow as Max strode toward the elevator.
---
Back in the lobby, Christy was enjoying herself.
She leaned against the desk, arms crossed, watching Gia with a smirk. "Your little janitor boyfriend is going to spend the rest of his life in jail if you don't get on your knees and beg me not to press charges."
Gia shook her head slowly, disbelief flickering across her face. "You've changed."
"It's not like you have any pride left anyway, you little whore."
Gia's jaw tightened. "Every cent I've ever earned, I worked for. I got healthy. I built a life. And I'm not asking for favors from you or anyone."
"Shut up."
Christy shoved her.
Gia stumbled backward, catching herself against the edge of the bench.
"Mommy!" Sharon jumped to her feet, her small face twisted in fear and anger.
"Daddy's going to make you pay!" she shouted, pointing at Christy.
Christy's smile turned sharp. "And *you're* getting on my nerves, you little bastard."
She stepped toward Sharon, reaching for the little girl's arm.
Sharon yanked back, but Christy grabbed her wrist and hauled her off the bench. "Let's go for a time-out in the janitor's closet."
"Let go of me!" Sharon's voice cracked, tears streaming down her face.
Gia lunged forward. "Don't you *dare*—"
One of the guards stepped between them, blocking her path.
"Christy, stop!" Gia's voice broke.
But Christy just laughed, dragging Sharon toward the hallway.
And then the elevator doors opened.
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