There wasn't an extra word in the WhatsApp message, only a photo.
It was a picture of a torn contract. The heading read "Artist Contract," and Irene Spencer's name was written in the column for Party B.
When Irene received this WhatsApp message, she was still sound asleep. The phone's ringing woke her, and she was initially annoyed. However, upon seeing the photo, her expression was one of wanting to cry but having no tears.
For days, she had been working hard to turn things around, confident she could successfully renew her contract with Empire TV.
Clenching her teeth, Irene threw the phone aside. She flung off the covers, got out of bed, and jumped barefoot onto the floor.
"Gerry Johnson, who do you think you are to treat me like this?"
She was still cursing angrily when she heard a knock on the door.
"Come in!"
She growled, displeased. The assistant hurried in. "Empire TV just called..."
