Her stiletto heels clinked noisily and rhythmically against the marbled floor drawing people's attention to her as she walked with effortless grace. Her chin held high, her piercing green eyes concealed behind her dark shades, her sleek dark hair pulled in a high ponytail, and her short, flawless, sophisticated dress accentuated her pretty body.

She gave off the don't-fuck-with-me vibes.

And she was also aware that people were staring at her, some with envy while others with admiration — yet, she gave no fuck! People's opinion of her mattered more!

She thumbed the call button as she reached the elevator and waited. Finally, the elevator door came to a halt, and the door swiped open. The people inside the elevator were instantly intimidated by the mean-looking woman standing in front of them; they scurried out without a word.

She smirked in utter satisfaction. She really loved the impression she was making.

She entered the elevator and thumbed the highest floor, where the CEO's office was located. Throughout her ride to the top floor, the elevator stopped countless times between levels, yet no one joined her. Despite having pressed the call button earlier, not a single person stepped inside.

The elevator door finally came to a halt after a long ride and she stepped out. She knew exactly where the CEO's office was, so she headed there, passing the blonde receptionist without so much as a glance.

"Ma'am!" The receptionist stood trailing behind her "Do you have an appointment? Ma'am! You can't go in there?"

She reached the office, pushed open the glass door, and entered the office.

"Ma'am! You can't meet Mr Jenkins without an appointment…!"

It was then that she took off her glasses, her hard green eyes staring deep into that of the receptionist. Even though she said nothing, her chilly eyes had said everything for her.

The flustered receptionist turned to the CEO, a fat, bald man in his mid-fifties who was lounging behind his desk with documents splattered on the desk that needed his signature.

"I tried to stop her, Mr Jenkins." The receptionist's voice trembled from the fear of losing her job.

"It's okay, Mary." The fat CEO assured her "You may go."

She nodded and quickly left the office, which now felt suffocating to her, leaving her CEO alone with the unknown woman.

"Who are you?" Abe Jenkins, the CEO, asked in a chilly voice as he deeply regarded the mysterious woman from his seat.

The woman folded her spectacles and held them firmly in her hand. Then, as if Jenkins hadn't spoken, she began sauntering around the office as though she was on a tour — her demeanor unimpressed.

"I ask again." Jenkins' exasperated voice came again "Who are you, young lady?!"

Then she snapped her head towards him, her gaze landing on him as though she'd just heard his voice for the first time. Then, in quick, graceful strides, she advanced towards Jenkins. When she was within grasping distance, she grabbed his collar and threw him out of his seat — Jenkins fell and sprawled out on the floor.

He quickly stood up in livid fury, ready to lash "What the fuck…"

A hot slap landed on his fat cheeks cutting off his words.

"What the…"

He tried to speak again, but another slap landed on his cheeks again, cutting off his words.

Then, without a word, the woman dived into her handbag and brought out photographs, which she spread on the desk.

Abe Jenkins' beady eyes widened in utter shock as he stared at the photos scattered on his desk.

He grabbed the photographs and began to sift through them.

Then with trembling hands, he dropped the photographs on the desk and then asked…

"What is all this? Who… who are you?" This time, his voice was trembling with fear unlike a few seconds ago. "How did you get this?"

"Good." The woman spoke for the first time and sat at the swiveling chair, then she folded her slender arms and gracefully crossed her long slender legs. "Your question should be — 'What am I going to do with them?' I know who you are. Name, Abe Jenkins. Age, fifty-five. Occupation, CEO of a recruiting agency. Status: married with three kids, one a college freshman and two in high school. Nationality, American. Date of birth, 5 June 1970. And the most disgusting fact about you is that you're a pedophilic pervert who takes pleasure in molesting vulnerable young women…"

"Okay, okay!" Abe shouted, cutting off her words, his face contorted with fear and anxiety, his voice trembling "I get it! You know me! What do you want? Money? I can't give you money! Name your price?"

She smirked. "You seem to have a misunderstanding, Mr Jenkins. I don't need your filthy money."

"Then what do you want?" Abe asked sharply, in both desperation and puzzlement, "If not money, what else could you possibly want from me?"

"The Brant family." She announced.

Abe paused momentarily in confusion "What?"

"You're sending in new recruitments to the Brant households tomorrow aren't you?" It was a statement rather than a question.

Abe Jenkins' face was now a more puzzled expression "How did you…"

"I want you to send me there tomorrow with the other recruitment." She cut him off again.

"What?! You're out of your goddamn mind!" Abe spat venomously in a voice filled with what was now rage "Over my dead body! If it's money you want, that I can give to you, but you aren't going into that household!"

She regarded him for a while, then with a nonchalant shrug of her splendid shoulder, she stood up.

"Tsk tsk tsk! Okay!" She said, her voice dripping with false disappointment "I gave you a chance, Mr Jenkins." She reached out and began to adjust his tie. "I gave you a chance to do something right… but you blew it up. It'll be quite a shame to see your name being dragged on all over social media and platforms first thing in the morning tomorrow. Won't it?"

Jenkins clenched his trembling fist. He wanted nothing but to punch this bitch in the face and tell her to go to hell, but he also knew he had no other choice — this mysterious woman held all the aces, and they both knew it.

If the public got wind of his amoral scandals with these young women he'd taken advantage of, his career would be done, and his family would be broken. Was it worth giving up his reputation, company, and legacy all for the sake of not letting this damned woman into the Brant households? Probably not!

"Alright, fine!" He said in a husky resigned voice. "You win. But if you're going to enter that household, you should bring your resume."

"Oh, Mr. Jenkins, you still don't get it, do you? Those photographs are my resume." Her eyes pointed at the photographs on his desk, her smile deceptive. "I have such a clean record. Don't I?"

Jenkins' eyes widened more in shock. "You can't be serious!"

Her hand landed on his mouth, shushing him up.

"Shh! I'm sure you'll work it out." She said in a slow smooth voice. Then she spread out her hand. "Your phone?"

Resigned, Abe reached for his pocket, reached for his cell phone, and then gave it to her. She typed in her phone number and gave him back the phone.

"That's my number, get me my perfect cover by tomorrow and text me the time of our departure and our dress code." She commanded, tilting her perfectly shaped head to the side. "Am I clear?"

Abe nodded.

"Good boy." She said, patting him on his bald head "Now I shall take my leave."

She began to walk towards the door. At the door, she abruptly paused as though she remembered something, and then she turned back at Abe, who was going through a whole plethora of emotions.

"Oh!" Her voice drew him out of his trance. "Since we'll be working together, we might as well introduce ourselves. I'm Raven Moon, you see and you're Abe Jenkins. And I look extremely forward to working with you. Have a nice day Abe. And be good. And when I say be good, I mean stay away from girls around your daughter's age, that's disgusting!"

And then with that, she spun on her heels and disappeared through the door.

Ten years ago, her life was completely ruined by some pathetic degenerates... Now she's back to give them a taste of their own medicine.