Chapter 3

3

I thought I was saved.

Then, I heard a familiar voice coming from the manager's phone.

It was Vince's livestream.

I looked up, and my heart stopped.

The manager was watching the raid.

"Wait, it's you? You're the gold digger Vince is exposing today?"

"You're a home-wrecker and a thief, and you have the nerve to come here and complain?"

"God, you deserve this. I always knew you were a fake. How else could a girl like you afford this place?"

I was shaking with rage and fear.

"What evidence do you have to insult me like that? Just let me use the phone!"

The manager gave a nasty laugh and grabbed my arm so I couldn't leave.

My heart sank into my stomach.

The man who was supposed to protect the tenants was joining the mob.

The contract and the security promises were just jokes.

No wonder Vince felt so untouchable.

He probably had guys like this backing him up everywhere.

Suddenly, Vince's voice boomed from the phone, asking if anyone had caught the "runaway."

The manager connected to the livestream immediately.

"Yo, Vince! I've got her right here in the office. I'm the only one on duty today, and she ran straight to me."

"The b*tch tried to act like a victim, but I was watching your stream. She can't fool me."

He looked so proud of himself, like he was a local hero.

"Also, let me tell the viewers. When she bought this unit, an old bald guy was with her and paid the bill. Definitely a sugar daddy."

"I even saw them hugging and acting all cozy. He had a luxury car parked right outside."

I screamed at him, "That was my father! He helped me set up my business! Since when can't a girl hug her own dad?"

The manager sneered.

"Oh, listen to her. Now that she's caught, she's turning her sugar daddy into her father. How original."

"Trust me, I've seen thousands of girls like you in this neighborhood. You think you're smart? Just wait for Vince to get here. You're done, you gold-digging trash!"

I wanted to rip the smug look off his face.

Why was their version of the truth the only one that mattered?

Why could they destroy a person's life without a shred of real evidence?

Why couldn't a woman be successful on her own terms?

I wanted to argue, but I realized it was useless with people like him.

I looked down at myself.

My clothes were torn, and my arms and legs were covered in bloody scratches.

The soles of my feet were stinging; I must have cut them on the pavement.

I had tried to explain, but no one wanted to listen.

Or rather, they didn't want to believe me.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of sirens.

I looked toward the street.

The owner of the shop across from mine was leading the police toward us.

He had called them for me!

I was actually going to be okay!

I screamed for help, and the officers came running.

The manager's face went pale, and he tried to let go of my arm and run.

I grabbed him with every bit of strength I had left.

"Where are you going? Weren't you the hero of the community five seconds ago?"

He panicked and tried to whisper into the livestream, telling Vince to get out because the cops were here.

I saw it all.

Every bit of this was evidence that would put them behind bars.

Vince started acting tough on the stream, telling his punks to hide the evidence.

He didn't know I had high-definition security cameras in the public areas of my shop.

You want to run? Good luck.

The police reached us, and the manager was shaking like a leaf.

"It wasn't me! I didn't do anything!"

He was so loud before, and now he was a coward.