He had signed off on it that quickly?
A sharp ache pierced her chest. He must have been waiting for the perfect excuse to get rid of her.-
"Who gave you permission to come back to New York?" Julian demanded, his voice slicing through the tension.
It was the same ruthlessly aloof tone he always used with her.
This was the Julian she knew.
"I told you on the phone yesterday," Willow replied, forcing herself to look away so his freezing glare wouldn't shatter her resolve.
"And did I agree to it?"
"I told you, my mother is severely ill."
"And?" He stared at her with zero empathy. "Is the firm supposed to bankroll your personal emotional crises?"
He looked at her as if she were completely insignificant, stripping her down to nothing. "Report to the office and accept your disciplinary penalty."
A penalty?
She almost wanted to laugh. What point was there in disciplining her when she had just resigned? But arguing would only waste time, and she had far more pressing issues.
"I'll handle the HR paperwork later, but that's not why I'm here."
"Whatever it is, tell the housekeeper." Julian checked his Rolex, clearly done with the conversation.
Seeing him turn away, Willow abandoned all pretense. "I need money."
Julian paused, a deep frown marring his perfect features. "How much?"
His question sparked a desperate glimmer of hope inside her. Her tense shoulders dropped a fraction. "Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars."


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