Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother - Chapter 169

Chapter 169: Chapter 169
Seraphina’s POV

“I don’t have a husband,” I said through gritted teeth, my hands clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms.

Gary’s eyes narrowed, looking me up and down like I was some kind of puzzle he couldn’t solve. “Boyfriend then? Because somebody sure as hell did that to your face.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“It is my business when you show up to work looking like a domestic violence poster!” His voice was getting louder, drawing attention from other employees. “Jesus Christ, Sara. You’re scaring the customers. I had three people complain yesterday that you looked ‘threatening.'”

The word almost made me laugh. Three weeks ago, I couldn’t threaten a fly. Now apparently my face was too scary for the precious customers.

“I’ll wear more makeup,” I said flatly.

“Makeup isn’t going to cover that!” Gary gestured at my face like it was personally offensive to him. “You look like you got hit by a bus! And frankly, I’m starting to think you’re bringing drama into my store that I don’t need.”

My jaw clenched. “Drama?”

“Yes, drama!” He was on a roll now, his face getting redder with each word. “First that incident with the customer and the card reader—which you still owe me two hundred dollars for, by the way. Then Mia disappears and leaves me short-staffed because apparently she felt ‘unsafe’ around you—”

“What?” The word exploded out of me.

“Oh, don’t play dumb. She called me from her mom’s house. Said you were harassing her about some money, sending threatening texts, making her uncomfortable.”

Heat flooded through my entire body. That lying, manipulative little bitch.

“She borrowed money from me!” My voice was shaking now. “She lied to me, stole from me, and then blocked my number!”

“That’s not what she told me.” Gary crossed his arms over his chest. “She said you were acting crazy, stalking her, making up stories about her boyfriend hitting her.”

“I’m not crazy!” The words came out louder than I intended. A customer at register three looked over nervously.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Gary shot back. “You show up here looking like you’ve been in a bar fight, acting paranoid, making wild accusations—”

“They’re not wild accusations! She stole from me!”

“So you say. But I’ve known Mia for two years. Sweet girl. Never caused any problems until you showed up.” His eyes were cold now, calculating. “And honestly, Sara, you’ve been nothing but problems since day one.”

My hands were shaking. Not from fear this time. From rage so pure and hot it felt like my blood was boiling.

“Yet here we are.” Gary’s expression was smug now. Satisfied. Like he’d been waiting for this moment. “You know what? I think it’s time we had a serious conversation about your future here.”

He waved vaguely at my face without looking up. “Making other employees uncomfortable. Creating a hostile work environment—”

“I’m creating a hostile work environment?” Another step closer. My vision was going red around the edges.

“And then there’s the matter of your attitude.” Still staring at his phone. Still completely oblivious. “You’re argumentative, defensive, unable to take constructive criticism—”

“Constructive criticism.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears. Flat. Cold. Dangerous.

“Yes. Like right now, for instance. I’m trying to have a professional conversation with you about your performance, and you’re getting emotional—”

I moved.

Three weeks of training. Three weeks of learning how to hurt people. Three weeks of Flint and his crew teaching me where the vulnerable spots were.

My hand shot out and grabbed Gary’s throat.

Not hard enough to crush. Not hard enough to do permanent damage. But hard enough to cut off his air. Hard enough to make his eyes go wide with shock and fear.

Hard enough to make him drop his phone.

“S-Sara—” he choked out, his hands flying up to grab my wrist.

I squeezed harder. Not enough to kill. Just enough to make a point.

“You want to talk about hostile work environments?” My voice was eerily calm. “Let’s talk about how you’ve been docking my pay for things that weren’t my fault.”

“I c-can’t—” His face was turning red.

I released his throat just enough to let him breathe. He gasped, sucking in air like a drowning man.

“I’ll fire you!” he managed to gasp out. “I’ll call the cops! I’ll—”

I slammed him backward into the wall. His head hit with a satisfying thunk that made him see stars.

“You’ll do nothing,” I said quietly. Deadly. “Because if you call the cops, I’ll tell them about all the labor violations. The wage theft. The unsafe working conditions. The sexual harassment complaints you buried.”

“Sara, please—” His voice cracked completely. Tears were starting to stream down his red face.

And God help me, I liked it. Liked seeing him scared. Liked having power over someone who’d had power over me for so long.

Was this what Damien felt like when he used his alpha authority? This intoxicating rush of control?

“Get on your knees,” I said.

“What?”

“You heard me. Get. On. Your. Knees.”

He hesitated. I squeezed his throat again, and he dropped like a puppet with cut strings. His knees hit the floor hard enough to make him wince.

“Good.” I released his throat completely and stepped back. “Now listen very carefully, Gary.”

He looked up at me with watery, terrified eyes. This man who’d made my life hell for weeks. This man who’d taken advantage of my desperation. This man who was now kneeling on the floor like a scared child.

“I quit,” I said simply.

“You—what?”

“I quit. Effective immediately.” I yanked off my employee vest and threw it at his face. “You can mail my final paycheck. And you better not dock it for anything, or I will come back here.”

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay, fine. Just—just go. Please.”

“One more thing.” I crouched down so we were eye-level. “I know you’ve got a new girl starting next week. Nineteen years old, fresh out of high school, desperate for a job.”

His face went even paler. “How—”

“I saw the hiring paperwork on your desk last week.” I grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at me. “If I hear that you’ve been treating her the way you treated me—if I hear about any wage theft, any bullying, any of your bullshit—I will come back here. And next time, I won’t be so gentle.”

“I won’t!” he said quickly. Too quickly. “I swear, I won’t touch her, I won’t—”

“Good.” I released his chin and stood up. “Because I know where you live, Gary. I know you drive a 2015 Honda Civic with a dent in the passenger door. I know your wife left you six months ago because you’re a miserable excuse for a human being.”

I turned and started walking toward the exit. Behind me, I could hear Gary scrambling to his feet, his breathing harsh and panicked.

“You’re crazy!” he shouted after me, his voice cracking with fear trying to masquerade as anger. “You’re fucking crazy! No wonder your husband beats you!”

I stopped. Turned slowly.

He immediately took a step back, his bravado crumbling in real time.

“I told you,” I said softly, dangerously. “I don’t have a husband.”