One Night Stand With My Ex's Billionaire Enemy-Chapter 61 I Quit

Minutes later, Violet Lin sashayed back to her desk.

Her smug little smirk said it all: she thought she’d bagged the project.

As she passed me, she let out a little scoff. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

Had she pulled something shady again? Probably.

I didn’t bite. Didn’t even blink in her direction.

My proposal was solid.

But showing up late this morning was a stain I couldn’t scrub off.

If I were Eliza Black, I wouldn’t trust someone who couldn’t read a clock either.

Thirty agonizing minutes later, Savannah stepped out of the office with her phone still in hand.

From the look on her face, she’d just hung up.

"Eliza Black’s people got back to us," she said, scanning the room. "She picked Violet Lin."

Silence.

Then—

"Really?" Violet gasped, one hand clapped to her cheek like she’d just been proposed to. "Eliza Black actually picked me?"

Savannah nodded. "Yes. Prep starts now. Contract’s getting signed tomorrow. The budget’s generous, and this project’s top priority. Violet, build your team. Everyone else, give her full support. I want a completed design draft on my desk as soon as humanly possible."

"Got it," Violet chirped.

Her eyes locked on me.

I knew that look.

Knew exactly what she was about to pull.

"Mirabelle," she said, sugary sweet. "Be my assistant?"

Assistant?

Please.

That was just a fancy word for errand girl in Violet’s dictionary.

The kind who fetches lattes and hauls garment bags up five flights of stairs because the lift’s out—yeah, that kind.

I’d seen her pull this stunt before.

She called it team building.

I called it hazing.

Last time, she ran some poor intern into the ground, sent her up and down the building so many times the girl nearly passed out.

The girl quit the day after.

I would’ve too.

And now she was trying it on me.

Across the room, Savannah caught my eye.

I didn’t say anything, just raised my brow a fraction.

She knew it wasn’t protocol for one designer to play lapdog to another.

But Violet got in first.

"This project’s a big deal," she said, all sweet and reasonable. "I just want to make sure there are no mistakes. Mirabelle, you’re okay with helping out, right? If Eliza Black’s happy, that’s a win for all of us. Gotta think about the company."

Savannah hesitated, lips pursed.

"Violet’s the lead, we’ll go with her arrangement," she said.

Her tone was flat, but her eyes flicked to me.

She wasn’t thrilled either.

Too bad the client had already picked sides.

Violet was about two seconds away from gloating when I leaned back in my chair and said, "Yeah, no. I’m not doing it."

Her smile twitched.

I was still fuming about the job being yanked from under me, and now Violet had the nerve to bounce over like a rabid cheerleader, trying to stick me with the grunt work.

Hell no.

Seniority. Skill. Portfolio.

I ticked every damn box.

At Nyx Collective, I wasn’t just a designer—I was THE designer.

I’d rather jump in front of a moving bus than work as Violet’s assistant.

I stood. "Not happening. I’m taking leave."

Violet blinked, fake-shocked. "Oh, don’t be dramatic. It’s just one project. You’re not seriously quitting because you don’t want to assist me?"

Then she got all performative. "If you were the lead designer and I had to assist, I’d totally cooperate."

"That’s cute," I said. "But if I were the lead, I’d rather rope in Paul the Octopus to help me sketch than let you anywhere near my project. At least he had better accuracy. And taste. Besides, I don’t need this job badly enough to play your stooge."

Violet didn’t expect me to hit back that hard.

Her eyes narrowed, and she slithered closer.

"Mira, come on, we both know you need this job. You’ve got no family backing you, and I heard the wedding with Rhys Granger got called off. If you lose this job too... how are you going to survive?"

I barked a laugh. "Worried about me? Thanks, but save it. What you really need to worry about is yourself. When Eliza Black shows up in your design looking like a cautionary tale, you won’t just be losing face like you did at the Laurent party. This time, it’ll be international. Front row, high-def, full-on global humiliation. Should be fun."

That shut her up.

Then my phone buzzed on the table.

I picked it up, expecting some spam or another passive-aggressive group chat message.

Nope.

It was a text from the bank.

Account balance update.

I blinked.

Counted the zeroes.

Twice.

Two. Million. Dollars.

What the actual—?

I figured the bank had glitched or something.

Like, maybe it accidentally thought I was Alice Walton for the day.

Then another message buzzed through, this time from Dominic Everett, Ashton’s assistant.

[Mrs. Laurent, Mr. Laurent has requested a new card be issued in your name. A monthly deposit of one million will be made as agreed. An additional million is Mr. Laurent’s personal gift to you. Please confirm receipt.]

I stared at the screen for two whole minutes.

Not blinking. Not breathing.

"As agreed"?

When had I agreed to receive a million dollars from Ashton?

And from the sound of it, this was going to be a monthly thing.

I didn’t marry Ashton for his money.

Hell, I barely listened to whatever he said in the dark hallway that day; I was too busy ogling.

But now, with two million just chilling in my account like it was pocket change, I couldn’t lie—I felt it in my bones.

Money really did slap different.

Sure, I’d always known Ashton was rich, but this was the moment it truly hit me.

I was now officially one of those people who could buy a whole boutique just because the salesgirl looked at me funny.

Across from me, Violet Lin waved a hand in front of my face. "Earth to Mira. Why are you staring at your phone so hard? Trying to find another job already?"

I blinked out of it, shoved my phone into my bag, and got to my feet.

When Violet tried to block my path, I shouldered her aside.

Everyone in the studio turned to gape at me.

I shot them all a look, grabbed my bag, and announced: "I quit, bitches!"