When she objected, Martin ended her contract.
When she requested payment for her outstanding invoices, he replied with one sentence:
Nobody believes a freelancer over a company.
He had never even met her face-to-face.
Now Victor handed her an empty breadbasket.
“Try doing the job you actually have.”
She took it without responding.
The table burst into laughter again, convinced she had backed down.
Inside the kitchen, her manager, Paul, grabbed her wrist.
“That table spends more than you make in a month. Whatever happens, apologize.”
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