Chapter 2

Frank paused with the car keys in his hands.

"Fine. I'll bring Mike over the day after tomorrow then."

"Don't bother."

He spun around, disbelief flashing across his face.

"Are you firing me? Who the hell do you think you are? Ms. Grant hired me herself. I answer to her, not you!

"You're just a freeloader living off your wife's money. You don't call the shots around here!"

His voice echoed through the garage.

I ignored him and pulled out my phone.

"You've worked 25 days this month," I said. "At $300 a day, that's $7,500."

I made the transfer with a few taps.

His phone buzzed almost immediately.

"I've paid you in full. We're done here."

Frank checked his phone. When he looked up, his jaw was clenched.

"Fine," he spat. "You'll regret this."

He stormed back into the garage, throwing his things into a bag while muttering curses.

I simply folded my arms and watched.

As he turned to leave, I held out my hand.

"The car keys. And the access card."

Frank glared at me, then reached into his pocket and slammed both items onto the hood.

"Happy now?" he sneered. "Men who live off their wives never end well."

I hit the garage door switch. His shouting faded as the door rolled shut.

I'd paid Frank well over the past three years—well enough that he'd never bothered looking for another job. He wasn't going to find another job this easy that paid nearly as much.

We'll see who gets the last laugh.

The next morning, I went out for a walk.

The retirees chatting in the neighborhood park went quiet when they saw me.

Hands froze over chessboards. Heads turned. Every face showed the same look of contempt.

I kept walking, but the whispers followed.

"That's him," a retiree muttered. "Huh. I wouldn't have guessed."

"Don't let appearances fool you. I heard he's got a terrible temper, and he treats Frank like dirt. He yells at him all day and won't even let the poor man eat a proper meal."

"That's not all. They say he's been keeping a young mistress behind Vivian's back, using her hard-earned money to support the affair."

"Poor woman. She works so hard, and this is what she gets in return."

I turned to face them. The residents quickly looked away, suddenly finding the chessboards far more interesting.

I kept walking. Outside the property management office, two security guards stopped smoking and exchanged glances. They whispered to each other and shot me disgusted looks.

I ignored them and walked on.

It was easy to guess who was behind all this.

Frank spent most afternoons hanging around the neighborhood while waiting for Vivian to get off work, chatting with anyone who'd spare him the time.

If anyone could turn an entire neighborhood against me, it was Frank.

Everyone knew him. Compared to him, I was practically a stranger.

By the time I pulled up outside the domestic staffing agency downtown, I'd already settled on my next move.

The branch manager, Bella Kurt, greeted me with a smile and a glass of water. I took a sip and got straight to the point.

"Frank crossed the line. He had a terrible attitude, skimmed money off the household shopping, and spread false rumors about me throughout the neighborhood."

The smile vanished from Bella's face. She sprang to her feet immediately and bowed deeply.

“I'm very sorry, Mr. Reed," she said quickly. "We'll deal with this immediately. He won't be taking another job through our agency."

I nodded.

"I need a replacement as soon as possible. A driver who can also work as my personal assistant. Someone competent, professional, and trustworthy."

Bella opened her drawer and pulled out a stack of files.

"I'd recommend Jack Smith." She tapped on one of the files. "He's worked as a driver for several senior executives and is highly professional. In fact, he's free this afternoon. I can send him to work with you for the day."

I agreed to her suggestion.