Daddy's Little Pet | 18+

|Threats|

I recognized the woman right away. Sally. Renee's friend.

"Mr. Clarke. Good morning." She began with a clipped and professional tone, but a slight hint of fear on her features immediately put me on edge.

"Where is Renee?" I repeated, impatient.

She paused for a split second, debating whether to speak up.

Then, as if making a decision, she straightened up and said, "Renee was fired yesterday morning, Mr. Clarke."

"Wait, what are you talking about?" I asked in disbelief and Sally looked away, with guilt on her face.

"Are you serious? Did she put you guys up to this?" I asked, turning to face the other waitresses, "I know she doesn't want to see me, and if she's hiding somewhere, please tell me. Surely what you said isn't right."

There was a tense pause as I waited for someone to contradict my claims, but no one said anything.

Instead, Sally stepped toward me and dropped a bombshell that had me staggering.

"What I told you is the truth, Mr. Clarke. Our boss called a meeting and announced her dismissal. With all the reports about the scandal..." She paused, struggling to finish, but finally continued with a sigh. "The scandal involving Renee is hurting the restaurant's image. The paparazzi camped outside the building yesterday morning, harassing the staff and customers, demanding interviews, and taking pictures without permission. We were barely scraping by, and when Renee came in, things went from bad to worse. I won't go into too much detail, but I'm sure you understand."

"This is bullshit." I hissed angrily. My jaw clenched as rage coursed through my body.

"I apologize, Mr. Clarke, but—"

"Where's your boss?"

"I... she's... she's..." Sally stuttered, but her words fell on deaf ears because I was already marching toward a door with the words 'STAFF ONLY' written above it.

"Mr. Clarke, you shouldn't go in there."

I could hear Sally's pleas as she hurried behind me, but I didn't slow down.

I ignored her and kept walking, my footsteps echoing off the walls and heart pounding in my chest with anxiety.

Pushing open a large set of sliding doors that led to a small hallway, I continued onwards, only stopping when I got to the manager's office.

The door was slightly ajar—fortunately for me—and upon entering, I saw the manager seated behind a massive desk, with a tablet on top of the surface and a phone against her ear.

Her gaze shot up sharply when she realized someone had entered the office, and it landed on me.

As soon as we made eye contact, her expression shifted from surprise to apprehension.

She stared at me, speechless, as she tried to make sense of my presence.

"Mr. Clarke." She stammered, quickly rising from her chair.

"Did you fire Renee? Tell me you didn't do that!" I roared, slamming my palm hard onto the office desk, causing it to shake violently.

She flinched, surprised by my outburst of rage. I couldn't care less.

"Mr. Clarke, please calm down. I'll explain."

"You'll explain what? That you fired my woman without informing me?"

"I'm sorry I didn't inform you, Mr. Clarke, but I made the decision in haste. I had no choice for the sake of the restaurant's reputation."

"You made a hasty decision. But it's been over twenty-four hours since you fired her, and you didn't think to tell me? I assumed we were friends, Mrs. Andrew. Despite all my favors, this is how you repay me, huh?"

"Calm down, Mr. Clarke, and listen to my reasons."

"You mean your selfish reasons?"

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't do anything else at the moment. Also, I didn't fire her permanently. I only suspended her, and she would..."

"Oh, Mrs. Andrew, you'll pay for this." I interjected with a growl, and she gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

"Mr. Clarke, I sincerely apologize."

"Save your apologies for later because you'll regret ever doing this by the time I'm done with you. I guarantee it."

Her eyes widened at my threat.

I turned on my heel and marched out of her office before she could say anything and pushing past the bemused waitpersons gathered around, I left the restaurant.

As I walked to where I'd parked my car, I whipped out my cell phone from my pocket and dialed Renee's number for the umpteenth time since Saturday night.

There was no response. Again. But I didn't give up and dialed the number once more.

She still didn't answer, and the calls went straight to voicemail. I shoved my phone back into my pocket, sighing with exasperation.

Taking out my keys and stepping into my car, I turned on the ignition and drove away with one last destination in mind.

Renee's apartment.

.......

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