Tamed by the Vengeful Billionaire

CHAPTER 1

EMERALD SANDOVAL

[YOU WILL KNOW NO PEACE, and I will ensure that. I'll make your life a living hell. I promise.]

I scrutinize the text word for word to ensure my eyes aren’t deceiving me. However, one thing is constant each time I read it: the voice. I can feel her yelling in my head. Lindsey, that's her name—I learned.

Her last name is Hayes, but I can call her Trouble since Drama Queen sounds cliché. That, and the fact that I’d be crowning her something. The word queen doesn't quite fit her. She’s pretty, yes, and must come from one of the most affluent families in the city, but why is she hell-bent on making my life a living hell? Hasn't she done enough already in a single day?

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Six hours earlier.

“You’re the greatest,” Alicia squeals excitedly on the other side of the call, barely seconds after relaying the news about my minor achievement.

“It’s not a big deal, Alicia. Besides, I’ve won it three times in a row. I’m kind of used to it,” I tell her, earning a round of scolding.

“Emerald Sandoval, are you kidding me? Winning employee of the month back-to-back, in one of the biggest hotels in New York! We’re talking about The Galaxy. That, my friend, isn't something you can refer to as a minor achievement. Girl, take time and appreciate yourself.”

Well, well. That’s Alicia for you. She can be your brother, sister, mother, father, best friend, or even your therapist. Right now, I'm not sure which role she’s playing, because I swear she sounds just like my mother…or father…whatever. The important aspect is that she's the most supportive friend I have ever had.

If I'm being fair to myself, she has a point. I have been working my ass off ever since I got this job seven months ago. In that period, I don’t think anyone has taken more extra shifts than I have. I need to make more money than a typical waitress, which means there's so much to be done.

“Emerald, your lunch break is over.” Cecilia walks into the break room, where most of the workers take turns to grab something to eat.

“Your tables won’t attend themselves.” She adds.

Fifteen minutes have never felt like two seconds, especially when I’ve spent most of it yapping with my best friend on the phone.

However, complaints won't get me anywhere either. The chief of staff has always been strict about time management. Winning employee of the month back-to-back doesn't put me above the rules.

“I have to go, Alicia. Duty calls,” I say in a hushed tone, just as Cecilia’s back disappears. If she came to fetch me for the second time, I would be in trouble. It wouldn’t matter how many times I’ve won the employee of the month. Work does continue around here.

I walk to one of my tables wearing a smile, as it is my obligation. Cecilia believes that frowns scare patrons away. If she catches so much as a wisp of it, there is no telling what ‌repercussions might follow.

“Good afternoon, sir…ma’am.” I greet the middle-aged patrons before me. The man places his hand on the woman's and smiles. The woman giggles in response. I can feel their connection.

I would tell them to get a room, but they're probably going to do so after this. They are seated on either side of the table. The woman has a bright smile, and if I knew her well, I’d tell her she’s glowing.

They remind me so much of my parents. The love, care, and affection they portray have been constant for as long as I’ve lived. I can sternly call them my role models. That's how love is supposed to be, isn't it?

The only difference is that they can't afford lunch at this luxurious hotel. Yet.

The keyword is yet. If being ambitious could send someone to the grave, I would be long gone. I have dreams. Big dreams. When I set foot in this hotel months ago, I had promised to do my best. I remember the sudden desire to afford this place…

“Are you going to serve our orders anytime this year?” The man’s voice snaps me from my thoughts.

Jesus Christ.

How long had I zoned out? Have I been staring at them all this time? Did they give their orders? What is wrong with me today?

If you want a day off in the middle of the week, you can have it, but don't ever come back. Cecilia's voice plays in my head. It’s what she says whenever she finds someone slacking at work, and that's what I just did. Part of Cecilia’s job is to drill us on maintaining the status of the hotel.

The man, especially, isn't happy that he has to repeat his order, which I quickly take down to avoid another mistake. I could get fired if he attempted to raise his voice in complaint.

I serve them just as quickly.

“Enjoy your meal, sir…ma’am.” I bow my head slightly and turn to leave.

“Excuse me, the woman calls out when I have barely taken two steps.

“Can I have some chicken soup?” She requests and then turns to her man. “They have the best.”

Right away.

A few minutes later, I’m approaching the couple’s table with a bowl of soup when a hand suddenly grabs my wrist with so much force that the nails almost dig into the inner layers of my skin. I barely manage to steady myself, but adjust quickly before I look up to a pair of blue eyes, projecting fury.

What the hell? I snarl inwardly, because if the words got out, I would lose my job in a second.

“You moron!” The woman screeches, her voice loud enough to attract the attention of patrons at closer tables.

Before I know it, the bowl of soup in my hand is emptied on my apron by the bizarre woman. The shatter of the bowl against the marble floor startles me out of my momentary shock. I grab a napkin from the nearest table and dab it at my chest, wincing as the liquid scalds me despite my desperate attempts to stop it. Things happen so fast before my mind can process any of it.

I gasp, staring down at my spicy apron and then back at the furious woman. I didn't see this coming.

“Who are you and—” I don't get to complete the statement since I have to stop the slap coming my way. I grab her wrist before her palm comes into contact with my cheek. There are sudden gasps in the air. Our little fiasco has attracted a horde of people.

“Are you going to pretend you don't know who I am?" Yells the woman. "Yet you're the bitch trying to wreck my home."

I squint at her, not understanding a word.

This must be a mistake. What are the chances I just received insults on behalf of someone else?

“Home?” I ask, letting go of her hand, but still cautious, in case she unleashes another attack.

“Gabriel. Remember him? The man you’ve been trying to seduce for months?” She says with ‌obvious spite in her voice.