Chapter 117
Chapter 117:
She turned to the security team. “Please escort Mr. Tate to the lounge.” Then, to the furious woman beside her: “Mrs. Tate, please come with me p>
Finally, her eyes settled on Sloane. “You. My office. Now p>
Sloane looked desperately toward Vincent. “Vincent p>
Vincent glanced at Mrs. Tate, then at the crowd of guests holding up their phones. He looked away.
“Go with her,” he muttered.
The door to Jocelyn’s office clicked shut. Jocelyn crossed to her desk and dropped a termination letter onto it. She had prepared it an hour ago.
“Gross misconduct. Harassing a client. You’re fired,” she said.
ѕ𝗁𝖺𝗋e 𝘺𝘰u𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝗏o𝗋𝘪te𝘀 𝘧r𝘰m 𝗴а𝘭𝗇𝗼vе𝗹𝘴.с𝘰𝘮
“You can’t do this! Vincent loves me!” Sloane shrieked, mascara carving dark lines down her cheeks.
“Vincent isn’t here,” Jocelyn said. “And if he tries to save you, I’ll show those messages to his wife. Do you want Aunt Lily involved p>
Sloane went pale. She knew about Lily’s money. She knew exactly how terrified Vincent was of his wife.
“You bitch,” Sloane hissed.
“Get your things,” Jocelyn replied, glancing at her watch. “Security will escort you out in ten minutes p>
Sloane stormed out, sobbing.
Liam, the Head of Operations, stepped in a moment later. “That was… intense p>
“It was necessary. Is Mrs. Tate calm?” Jocelyn asked.
“Comped her a spa day and refunded her last stay. She’s happy you took action,” Liam confirmed.
Jocelyn exhaled slowly. One enemy down.
She looked through the glass wall at the empty desk where Sloane used to sit.
“Next,” she said.
Vincent slammed the door to his office so hard the framed certificates on the wall shook.
“You went over my head!” he shouted.
Jocelyn sat opposite him with her legs crossed, looking entirely unbothered. “I saved the hotel’s reputation. You were letting your mistress harass our VIP clients p>
“Sloane is a valuable asset!” Vincent sputtered, his face turning a blotchy red.
“She’s a liability. And she’s gone. HR has already processed it,” Jocelyn said.
“I can rehire her,” Vincent threatened, pointing a shaking finger across the desk.
“Try it,” Jocelyn replied, her voice dropping. “And I’ll release the security footage of the two of you in the nap room — to the board, and to Aunt Lily p>
The air left Vincent like a punctured balloon. He sank back into his chair, cornered and deflated.
“Watch your back, niece,” he hissed. “You’re making enemies p>
“I’m cleaning house,” she corrected.
Later that evening, on the Upper East Side, Sloane was crying on the pristine white sofa in Aspen Schneider’s apartment, drinking Aspen’s expensive wine straight from the bottle.
“She humiliated me! And Vincent didn’t do anything!” Sloane wailed.
Aspen examined her nails, looking bored. She found Sloane exhausting, but useful.
“Jocelyn is getting bold,” Aspen mused.
“She thinks she’s untouchable because of that Collins money,” Sloane spat.
“Wait.” Aspen sat up straighter. “Does she actually have the money? Really p>
“I don’t know,” Sloane sniffled. “She works all the time — she’s always at the hotel. If she were a real Collins wife, she’d be shopping in Paris, not auditing spreadsheets p>