Queenie leaned coquettishly against Nigel’s chest, clearly loving every second of it as she shot me a triumphant look.
Nigel wrapped an arm around her protectively and shot me a cold look. “Did you hear that, Yvonne? We’re not going to spoil you like before.”
Despite his reputation as The Iron Judge in the office, he used to treat me with warmth and gentleness.
If this were before, seeing this side of him would’ve kept me up all night. But now? Knowing I’d be leaving this house for good, I couldn’t be bothered.
I averted my gaze. My chest ached and felt as though it was about to explode.
Despite that, I replied calmly, “I’ll move out as soon as I can. As for being an assistant… I’m not qualified for the job. I’ll just resign.”
Shawn let out a mocking laugh.
“Trying to act pitiful again? Sorry, we’re not falling for that crap anymore. But for your deceased mother’s sake, we’ll still throw you a bone. We won’t let you starve in the streets.”
I ignored the taste of blood in my mouth, bent down, and picked up the now-filthy notebooks at my feet, then tossed them into the trash.
“No need.”
I, Yvonne Sachman, could live without relying on men.
If something was tainted, I wouldn’t keep it. I’d throw it out.
Back then, I came to the Langston residence all alone. Now, I had barely anything to pack.
All those clothes and accessories were gifts from the Langston brothers.
They used to bring luxury store assistants to the house with new seasonal collections for me to choose from.
Even when I gasped at the price tags and refused, they’d just pull me into a hug and assured me that I deserved the best in the world.
And now? Those same clothes had been secretly cut to shreds, crumpled into corners. The pile even smelled faintly of rot and something foul.
It was obviously the work of Queenie.
Once, I was the apple of the Langston brothers’ eyes.
Now? I was just another piece of trash in their gutter.
I let out a soft, indifferent chuckle.
All I wanted was to take the few things that truly mattered—Mom’s keepsakes in the safe and the little pet turtle by the window.
But when I looked toward the tank, I froze.
The turtle was lying on its back, and its hard shell was covered with vicious bite marks!
