"What about me?" Paul asked quickly.

I let out a scoff. "We agreed from the start that lunch wasn't included. What you eat is none of my business. But you bought the lobsters with my money, and they cost 40 dollars each. That's a fifth of what you make in a day. If you want to eat it, I'm taking it out of your pay."

At that, Paul fell silent. He turned back to the counter and began working on the lobster, slamming the knife against the cutting board. It was as if he were venting his anger.

He scowled as he finished preparing the meal, then marched to the fridge and started rummaging around.

"Elijah, you've still got some seafood in here," said Paul. "Since you're leaving in a couple of days, you won't finish it. Why don't you just give them to me? I'll take them home for my wife.

"You've got plenty of good liquor in your cabinet too. If you can't take them with you, give me a few bottles."

He practically wore his greed on his face, and just looking at the food on the table made my stomach turn.

I put down my cutlery, stormed over, and snatched the seafood from his hands with a grim expression.

"I'm leaving, but I'm not moving away for good. Mind your own business!" I snapped. "Don't touch anything in my house. If so much as one thing goes missing, you'll be the first person I come after."

Paul pursed his lips and reluctantly averted his gaze. "I was just saying. If you don't want to give it, then don't. I've never seen an employer as stingy as you."

He complained about me right to my face without the slightest restraint.

At last, the anger I had been holding back for days boiled over. "Stingy? Know your place! Do you seriously think you're the boss here just because I tolerated you for a few days? Should I call the agency and ask if they even trained you properly?"

For a moment, Paul lowered his head and said nothing.

Before he left, I gave him one last warning. "Don't come tomorrow. If you do, you won't get paid."

As soon as Paul heard that, he threw the apron onto the floor and spat in my direction from across the room.

"Fine! I won't come! You think I care?" he yelled. "Just look at how stingy you are! You won't give me the house, and you refuse to leave me a dime for retirement!

"What woman would ever want to be with you? And who knows what shady business you're involved in to make all this money?"

Having said his piece, he turned and jogged out.

The words died on my tongue as the door slammed behind him.

…

The next day, Paul kept himself in check and didn't show up.

The day after that, I left to work in a neighboring city and stayed there for a full month.

When I finally had a week off, I decided to return home. I contacted the housekeeping agency to arrange for someone to clean my place, but I specifically told them not to send Paul. I'd had more than enough of him.

Yet, what infuriated me was that the person they sent was still Paul. I arrived home to find him just about to walk out.

Before I could get a word in, he launched into accusations. "Elijah, that's messed up! I've worked for you for so long. How could you hire someone else? If I hadn't seen it in time, this job would've gone to another person!"

"Didn't I say I didn't need you to come?" I snapped at Paul.

He rolled his eyes and shot back, "The person who was supposed to clean your place had something come up, so I stepped in. Besides, I don't remember doing anything to you. Why exactly aren't I allowed to come?"

The nerve of him to turn it around on me! Paul was truly something else.

I didn't want to argue, so I waved him off. "I'm the one paying. I decide who comes."

With that, I stepped into my house.

Paul, on the other hand, let out a snort. "Hurry up and pay me! It's 300 dollars."

300 dollars? Hadn't it always been 200 dollars?

"Why the price hike?" I asked, confused. "The agency never mentioned anything about that."

Paul retorted, "That's the price now. Just transfer me the money already. Don't try to stiff me!"

But I didn't quite believe him, so I pulled out my phone, ready to call the housekeeping agency myself.

Seeing that, Paul hurried over to stop me. "What are you doing? We've been dealing with each other for years. Do you really think I'd lie to you?

"If you don't want to pay 300 dollars, then just pay 200. You're my longtime client, after all."

The way he changed his tune so fast only made me more suspicious, and I couldn't help but feel my temper flare at the thought that he might be trying to rip me off.

"If you're not lying, then why are you panicking? One phone call, and we'll know the truth."

When Paul saw how serious I was, he backed off, saying, "I was just joking. It's still the old price. 200 dollars."

As soon as he finished speaking, he turned to leave, as if it were that simple.

I grabbed him by the arm and asked coldly, "A joke? This is fraud. You've tried to get extra money out of me more than once, and I let it slide. Do you really think I don't know? Want me to take you to the police station?"

My harsh tone clearly rattled Paul. He gulped several times before speaking again.

"Hey, it's not as serious as you're making it sound. It was just that lobster last time and trying to get a little extra from you today. That's not worth dragging the authorities into this.

"I swear I won't do anything like this again. Please, be the bigger person and forgive me. Besides, you didn't even give me the money. There's no need to waste the police's time. I promise it won't happen again."

His words barely sank in before he yanked his arm free and bolted out the door.

Even though I didn't call the police, I still phoned the housekeeping agency and filed a formal complaint. To their credit, they handled it fairly.

The very next day, they replaced Paul with someone new and refunded half the fee.

This time, Paul seemed to have learned his lesson. But over the next few days, I still ran into him now and then. He had been reassigned to hourly cleaning work in the unit downstairs.

…

That afternoon, as I was heading home, a few elderly men were sitting in the courtyard gazebo, chatting.

When I walked past, one of them spoke up without the slightest attempt to lower his voice. "So, this is the guy Paul was talking about? The one who climbed his way up by leeching off women? He doesn't look like much to me. Which rich lady is he living off of?"

I stopped in my tracks. Paul said I was leeching off women?

That was all I needed to hear. I knew immediately that I had been slandered.

Paul really had some nerve. I chuckled in exasperation, realizing it was time to settle the score.

I cursed at the old man spreading the rumor before hurrying home. But the moment I opened the door, I froze.

A young man was sprawled across my couch. I instinctively pulled out my phone, ready to call the police.

However, when I saw his face clearly, my hand stopped mid-motion. How could it be him?