Chapter 3 - The Enemy of My Enemy
Eleanor Vance was a wealthy, formidable woman who owned a chain of high-end real estate agencies in the city. When I met her at a quiet café, she looked at me with assessing, piercing eyes.
"I'll get straight to the point, Clara," Eleanor said, stirring her black coffee. "I never liked Vanessa. She’s a social climber who married your brother because she thought he had potential. That video is a PR nightmare for my family name. But more importantly, what they did to you and your boy was despicable."
I sat defensively. "I didn't post the video, Mrs. Vance."
"I know you didn't. You don't have the spite for it. But Vanessa does." Eleanor slid a sleek folder across the table. "She is currently trying to rally her bridesmaids to contact your employer, claiming you staged the whole thing to ruin her wedding, hoping they'll fire you to 'teach you a lesson.'"
My jaw tightened. "She wouldn't."
"She is a narcissist, Clara. Narcissists double down when cornered." Eleanor tapped the folder. "Inside is an offer. Come work for my corporate office. Double your current salary. Full benefits for you and Leo. I need someone who can handle high-pressure situations with grace, and anyone who can walk out of that banquet hall with her head held high is exactly who I want managing my accounts."
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I looked at the contract. It was a lifeline. It was a weapon.
"I accept," I said.
