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A raise a brow. “A sheep? You think I’m a sheep?”
She huffs again, turning her attention to the maids in my closet. I get to my feet and point toward the door. “Get out.”
“I’ll do no such thing.”
“Get out of my room!” I scream.
She rolls her eyes and steps into the hallway, but that only pisses me off further. She stops outside my door, staring at me. Taunting me.
“Get out of this house,” I ground out.
“You—”
“You’re fired!” I scream. “Get out!”
She cackles. “You can’t fire me.”
“I am Vincenzo’s wife. What I say goes in this house, and I’m telling you that you’re fired!”
She ignores me, staring beyond me to get a look at what the girls are doing.
I’m seeing red. I’m furious. Usually, I’m not a violent person, but boy, do I want to ram my fist into her face right now. I’m going to call Enzo again and hope like hell he agrees with me. He better agree with me or—
“What’s going on?” Antonio calls out as he quickly makes his way toward my room.
“She won’t get out,” I explain tightly.
“I am out of her room.” Bernice rolls her eyes.
“Out of this house!”
Antonio raises a brow at me.
“She thinks she can fire me,” Bernice says with a little chuckle, as if it’s a big joke and we all should be laughing. I don’t find it funny. I’m two seconds from calling Enzo again.
“Can’t she?” Antonio asks. The humor is light, but it’s there.
She scowls at him. “I work for Mr. Bramante.”
“I believe you work for the estate, and as she is now head of the estate, alongside Mr. Bramante, I think you work for her too. If Mrs. Bramante says you’re fired, you’re fired.”
She stares at him, laughing some more like he’s joking with her now. When he doesn’t laugh back, and stares at her expectantly, she frowns. Her lips flop open and closed, until she finally squeals out, “You can’t be serious!”
“I don’t joke, Bernice. You know this.”
What is with all the non-joking men in this house?
“I am not fired! I’ve worked here for twenty-five years.”
“Consider it twenty-five years served and don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.” He moves, gesturing down the hall for her to go.
“This is ridiculous,” she snaps, holding her chin high.
“What’s ridiculous is me having to spell it out for you,” Antonio responds. “Get. Out.”
She huffs again. “I will leave for the night, but I will return first thing in the morning, as I usually do. This whole thing will be cleared up.”
She storms down the hall, and I let out a breath.
