I was starving from overtime when I tore open a pack of spicy strips at my desk. The next second, my manager exploded. He lunged across the office like I’d set the place on fire, pointing straight at my face.

chapter 4

That night, another call came.

A woman’s voice.

Sharp. Arrogant.

“I’m Shawn’s aunt. Mr. Carter’s wife.”

Of course.

“Go back and apologize. Now.”

“Or I’ll make sure you can’t work in this industry again.”

I laughed.

Softly.

“Do you think you own the industry?”

She exploded.

Insults poured out.

I didn’t bother listening.

Hung up.

Blocked.

Silence.

Finally.

I leaned back on the couch.

Staring at the ceiling.

They thought they could corner me.

Destroy me.

Because I didn’t obey.

Because I refused to be extorted.

I used to believe—

Skill was everything.

That results earned respect.

I was wrong.

In front of power and connections—

Skill meant nothing.

Fine.

Then I’d use something else.

Strength.

Real strength.