Chapter 3
909 Words
Amy stared at the pure black titanium card on the table, a flash of unconcealed bewilderment in her eyes.
But she quickly straightened her neck, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, and shouted hoarsely, "What is this messy card! Don't try to play tricks and divert attention here!"
I tapped the table with my fingertips.
"A black card. Whenever I go to those private kitchens and clubs, it's an automatic 50% off." I looked into her eyes, my voice devoid of any inflection. "In other words, out of the so-called three hundred thousand squandered on the books, I actually only spent one hundred and fifty thousand."
Amy froze for a second.
Then, as if she had grabbed onto some fatal leverage, she raised her voice and bit back:
"Since this card is used to discuss the firm's cases, the card's privileged discount naturally belongs to the firm's assets! You pocketing this 150,000 difference is embezzling! This 350,000, including principal and interest, cannot be a penny less!"
Looking at her legally illiterate yet forcefully unreasonable face, I didn't even have the desire to argue.
To entangle with an i***t like this over 350,000 was simply beneath me.
I picked up the Montblanc fountain pen on my desk, uncapped it, and cleanly signed my name on that demand note full of loopholes.
"Three hundred and fifty thousand, I accept it."
I pushed the note towards her.
Amy completely didn't expect me to be so straightforward. She violently snatched the demand note, while greedily grabbing that pure black titanium card and clutching it tightly in her hand.
After confirming the signature on it, her face erupted in the ecstatic joy of a petty thief.
"Glad you know your place." Amy carefully guarded the note and the black card against her chest, looking down at me with her chin raised. "Since you admit this card is an asset for the firm's business, this privilege card will be used by Jack from now on. Now get out, your workstation has been moved to that moldy storage room in the lobby next to the restroom."
She couldn't wait to walk around the desk, reaching out to stroke that custom hand-made Italian leather swivel chair.
"From today on, I am the firm's VIP Client Director, and this office is mine."
I didn't even have the desire to get angry. I coldly picked up the cardboard box, which only contained two photo frames and a few lipsticks, and stepped out of the office door without a hint of nostalgia. Behind me came the smug laughter of Amy kicking off her high heels and sinking heavily into the swivel chair.
Holding the box, I directly pushed open the cramped storage room in the corner of the lobby that reeked of mildew.
I slammed the door shut, isolating all the outside noise and the eyes waiting for a good show.
I casually placed the box on a pile of dusty clutter, took out my phone, and dialed the chief counsel of my family's top-tier legal team.
"Charles, prepare to file a case." I looked at my own cold eyes in the dim light of the storage room, speaking word by word. "Comprehensively liquidate every debt Jack Miller owes me. I want him squeezed dry to the last cent, principal and interest included."
Hanging up the phone, I unzipped the inner compartment of my Hermes Birkin bag and pulled out a document stamped with a steel seal.
It was a property title deed.
It clearly stated that the sole absolute owner of this entire floor of Grade A office space in the city center, where Jack's law firm was located, was: Selina.
Three years ago, when Jack first started his business, he was so poor he couldn't even afford rent for a basement, yet he was extremely image-conscious, insisting on renting a high-end storefront in the city center to keep up appearances.
To protect his pitiful ego as a poor boy trying to climb the ladder, I anonymously bought this entire floor of office space and, through an agency, "rented" it to him at the dirt-cheap price of fifty thousand dollars a month.
And the actual market price here was three hundred thousand.
I used my family's real money and top-tier resources to feed an ungrateful backstabber who bit the hand that fed him.
Just then, my phone screen lit up.
Instagram pushed a new update posted by Amy.
In the photo, she was wearing that cheap business suit, sitting triumphantly in my swivel chair, her feet arrogantly propped up on the desk, holding the half-finished cup of black coffee I left behind.
The caption read: "New office, new starting point. After cleaning out the firm's toxic tumor, even the air has become fresher~ ❤️"
I stared at Amy's distorted face of excitement in the photo, and a cruel smile crept up the corner of my mouth.
I opened my contacts and found the number of the real estate agency's manager.
My fingers tapped quickly on the keyboard, hitting send:
"This is Selina. Terminate the lease renewal contract with Jack's Law Firm immediately."
"This Friday at 5 PM, the moment the lease expires, I want to see this entire floor completely cut off from water and power. Kick everyone inside out onto the streets like you're sweeping out the trash."
The countdown to the dual destruction belonging to Jack and Amy was now at four days.
- Writer
