Isabel stared at the message, her jaw tightening.
"Send your account details for the deposit."
She blinked, like she was seeing it wrong. Her fingers curled around the phone, grip tightening. She sat down on the edge of the couch, phone still in her hand.
"Are you f*****g kidding me?" she muttered.
She tapped the screen, reread the message. There was no name, no follow-up, no softness. Just the message. Cold. Straight to the point.
Her lips parted like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. She ran her hand down her face.
"So that's what I am? A f*****g invoice?"
She stood up quickly, pacing across the room. The kids were still in the other room watching cartoons. She pressed the side of her phone and blocked the number.
"Asshole," she said under her breath.
She
