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Chapter 8 Threat

[Ella]

"You said you were considering trying homemade cat food in the video you sent me yesterday. I came here to check that my cat wasn't poisoned by you." He says, leaning against the wall.

Is this man deliberately trying to give me a hard time? He called me personally to ask if Ethan was eating organic food on Monday night. After searching for recipes for homemade cat food and papers on cat food preparation, I listed a few recipes. Today after work, I went to the supermarket selling organic food to pick up high-quality ingredients and pet multivitamins. Now, my boss is questioning me that my homemade cat food is not reliable?

I roll my eyes, pick up my bag, and put the food on the cooking counter. "Today is the first time I will make homemade cat food for Ethan. I have shown the 7 recipes to Andrew. He said those recipes would be great for the cat's health."

Mr. Clapton frowns again at my mention of Andrew.

"From tomorrow on, you are not allowed to work at that pet store anymore. I'll find someone to replace you." Mr. Clapton says.

"What? Why? Do you have a grudge against Andrew?"

As far as I know, Andrew's family are Gammas from a medium-sized pack. They have no relationship with Mr. Clapton. Why does Mr. Clapton show his dislike for Andrew?

"The Blue Moon Group doesn't allow regular employees to have part-time jobs outside."

Well! He gives me a reason I can't refute.

"Fine! I'll tell Andrew tomorrow," I sigh, pouring hot water into a paper cup.

"Where's your sexy roommate?" He asks.

I heighten my guard as he describes Mia as sexy. Does he have feelings for Mia? Realizing this made me feel inexplicably annoyed. Probably because he's a known playboy, and I don't want my best friend to become his plaything. Also, Mia told me she met her mate on Tuesday morning, even though she wasn't interested.

"She's not available. FYI, she's got her mate." I seriously imply to Mr. Clapton not to presume to harass my best friend.

"Mate?" he raises his tone as if he's heard an amusing word. "You know, as we shifters continue to evolve, mate is not unique to us. The Moon God's arrangement is just redundant."

"I respect your opinion. But there are still many shifters in this world who are willing to wait for their destiny mate to appear," I say.

"Such as the girl called Ella Jane Ronan." he laughs lightly, his voice like being wrapped in velvet, silky but hot.

The moment he pronounces my full name, my heart misses a beat. A stream of heat rushes through my body impatiently, causing my cheeks to burn.

He must be teasing you. You have to stay awake. A part of me issues a warning that brings my sanity back for a while.

There is no denying that I had three immature relationships during my adolescence. After entering college, I fantasized about meeting a boy I had feelings for and found out he was the mate the moon gods had planned for me after my shift. I was even naive enough to keep my virginity for this future mate. Of course, this is a secret to me.

However, the reality is always harsher than fantasy. I had met a guy who was my heartthrob, but he had his own mate. And after my 21st birthday, I searched the library, the park lawn, and the bachelor shifters' parties and found nothing. After that, I focused all my energy on finding an internship and a job, even though that didn't go well.

Ignoring the past, I glance at the steaming coffee next to my hand and remind Mr. Clapton, "Your coffee's ready." Then I unwrap the chicken and prepare dinner for Ethan.

"Miss Ronan, when do you want to use the check I left you?" Instead of drinking the cheap coffee, Mr. Clapton switches the topic.

As I chop the chicken into small pieces, I shake my head and say, "I still have savings. Besides, even if I gave Ethan organic food for three meals a day and got him the most expensive cat litter, it wouldn't cost $50,000 a month."

"You can use that money for something else. I remember Ansel said you haven't paid off your student loans." He points out.

"Did you investigate me?" I ask him, raising an eyebrow.

"It's a normal background check for entry-level employees. Plus, if I wanted to know, I have full access to all of your information, including your browsing history and personal preferences. Your private information has already been leaked out in various ways as you sign up for those social apps or surf the net. You know, your information isn't even worth a dime."

My mouth opens into an O shape out of surprise. He has said horrifying things in a casual tone. It sounds as if he's telling me that it's not too hot today, perfect for enjoying the moon. In reality, he condescendingly tells me how easy it was for him, as the one standing at the top of the pyramid, to find out all about me.

"Mr. Clapton, I can't deny that you have unparalleled power and wealth and can do many things. But please show me the proper respect as an ordinary person." I turn and put the chopped chicken and salmon pieces into a bowl.

"I'm just stating the facts. You haven't answered my question." He sees absolutely nothing wrong with his attitude and continues to ask me. It makes me realize I can't communicate with this billionaire with a normal mind.

"You said $50,000 was for Ethan's support. I'll use my salary to pay off my student loans if I get it on time next month." I answer his question while peeling sweet potatoes.

"Don't worry, Blue Moon Group never fails to pay its employees. By the way, if I were you, I'd cash the check to pay off my student loans first." He says.

"Unfortunately, I'm not you," I reply.

"M~e~ow~" Ethan is approaching the kitchen. He should have smelled the salmon. But since Mr. Clapton is standing behind me, he doesn't dare to come in but stands at the edge of the kitchen, keeping a wary eye on his enemy. My poor Ethan, who would generally have been in the kitchen, rubbed his head against my calf while I was cooking dinner.

"Oh, my sweet, wait a little longer. Dinner will be ready soon. I've prepared your favorite salmon and chicken today." I give Ethan a kiss across the air.

"Meo~w." Ethan purrs, then chooses to jump on the cooking table and sit in the corner farthest from Mr. Clapton.

"Coward." Mr. Clapton mutters.

Ethan is like a child to me. No mother wants to hear someone criticize her child, even if that person is her boss.

I put down the food in my hand and remind Mr. Clapton with a smile, "Mr. Clapton, your coffee is getting cold." The implication is, finish your coffee and get out of my apartment.

Mr. Clapton gives me a surprising smile, "Did I mention I like cheap instant coffee? Miss Ronan, I am very interested in discussing the Ronan Family Pack's hospitality with Alpha Matthew, your father."

He mentions my father on purpose because he knows I can't let my old-fashioned-minded father know I'm working as a pet sitter.

I bite my lower lip, squeeze my brow, and widen my eyes. I wish I could make a scary face to keep him from threatening me.

But I'm not someone who often lashes out or intimidates others. So I can tell from his delighted eyes that my expression must have been hilarious and that it has become a source of joy for him. Why is my boss such a jerk?

Oh, dear Moon God, if I throw the chef's knife in my hand at this man, you will surely forgive me, right?

"My dear boss, what can I do for you to repay you?" I force myself to present a friendly smile.

"So, Miss Ronan, what's for my dinner?" Mr. Clapton asks, with his winning smile and neat teeth.

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