There, right outside the front entrance, was a crowd.
More than fifty people stood gathered just outside the glass doors, waving large signs with her face on them — and not in admiration.
The words were big, bold, and impossible to miss.
**HOME WRECKER!**
**GOLD DIGGER!**
**WHORE!**
Her photo had been printed on huge boards, some of them set on fire with cigarette lighters, while others were being ripped apart in pieces and handed out like flyers.
And the eggs were back.
Rotten, foul-smelling, and being passed around like popcorn.
She stared at them in disbelief.
How could this even be happening?
This was private property. A company building. A place with security — cameras — rules.
How were they just allowed to—
Her eyes snapped toward the nearby security team standing off to the side.
They were doing nothing. Not just nothing — they were smiling. Actually smiling.
Heather marched straight toward the nearest one.
