I am not Virgin Mary

She left the mall with anger.

The driver who had accompanied her watched her come out empty-handed and asked, “Mrs Clinton, Did you not see any clothes you liked?”

“Rogers.” Alice didn't answer his questions, but tilted her head and asked him in a dominant manner, “Do you know your President's contact phone number?”

The chauffeur whose name was Rogers was stunned. “… I think I do.”

“Please let me have it, show it to me.”

Rogers was surprised, how come Mrs Clinton didn't have President Clinton's phone number?

However, he was curious, so he quickly took out his mobile phone and found Enzo Clinton's number.
*
Sure, here's Alice's narration rewritten in the first person:

I glanced at my phone and dialed Enzo Clinton's number directly.

It rang for what felt like an eternity before someone finally answered.

“Yes, who is this?” came a cold, low voice from the other end.

I hesitated for a moment, nervous and unsure. "... It's me, Alice."

There was a pause on the other end before Enzo Clinton spoke again. “Is this your mobile number?”

I couldn't tell if it was just my imagination, but his tone seemed to soften slightly at the sound of my name.

“Yes,” I replied quietly.

Another pause followed before he said, “I've saved it. You can save my number too.”

“Okay, I will!” I squeezed my phone tightly, feeling a wave of uncertainty. Maybe I shouldn't have called him. We were only married in name, after all. Why should I ask him for favors?

Wouldn't he find me annoying if I called him for help? But I was seething with anger. I needed to make Judy and Gaston regret what they did.

I'd never been called a thief before. If I didn't stand up for myself now, I'd be furious! Thankfully, there were people around, so I managed to keep calm.

“Why did you call me? Do you miss me?” His deep, seductive voice flowed through the phone, making my heart skip a beat.

I realized I was blushing. 'Stop it, Alice, this is not the time to blush.'

“Mr. Clinton, I...”

“Call me by my name, or call me hubby. I don't want to hear 'Mr. Clinton' anymore,” he interrupted, his tone both domineering and irritating.

I fell silent.

“I should have been there by now, but work's been hectic. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes. If you're hungry, you can order something to eat instead of waiting for me.”

“Okay.”

“Alice? Are you still there?” His voice snapped me out of my trance.

“Oh, yes... I wanted to ask...” I trailed off, hesitating.

“Yes, tell me?”

I took a deep breath and asked softly, “I'm at Clinton's International Shopping Mall. Do I have any authority here? I mean... I'm also the owner of this mall, right?”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt my cheeks burn.

Enzo seemed taken aback by my question. After a moment of silence, he chuckled softly. “Of course. Anything associated with the Clinton name belongs to you too.”

“Then... if I find the employees to be incompetent and their work attitude unsatisfactory, can I order them to be fired?”

I was incredibly nervous, dreading his response. What if Enzo rejected my request? I'd feel utterly embarrassed.

After a few seconds of silence, his voice turned cold. “Have you been mistreated?”

I hesitated.

Then I hung up and returned to the store. The employees gave me disdainful looks.

“Who does she think she is, calling the manager like that?”

One of them sneered, “Is she trying to show off?”

Ignoring my thoughtless cousin's remarks, I stood there, arms akimbo, waiting for the manager.

He bowed deeply as soon as he saw me. “Madam, I apologize for the wait.”

I fixed him with a stern look. “Why are your employees so incompetent?”

The manager bowed again. “I'm sorry for their mistakes.”

“Then I want all the employees who witnessed what happened fired immediately!”

“What's going on?”

“Why is Manager Harper so respectful to this woman?”

“Isn't she just a poor woman who stole someone else's design?”

“Who does she think she is to demand firings?”

One of them piped up, “Manager, why are you calling this petty thief 'madam'?”

At that moment, I realized I had to assert myself.


The manager didn't utter a word but simply bowed towards me and faced them sternly, "You, you, and you - you're all fired, per orders from above."

The employees were taken aback, visibly stunned that they were being dismissed because of my request.

“Manager, we...” They started to plead, fear written all over their faces.

“You all, leave immediately!” the manager rebuked them sharply, clearly worried about staying in his boss's good graces. “Our mall doesn't tolerate such incompetence!”

“Manager, it wasn't deliberate. Please, give us another chance,” they begged desperately. “We've been loyal employees here for five or six years. We can't afford to lose our jobs!”

Their appeals were futile. They knew the benefits at Clinton's International were superior to those at other companies. But despite their tears and pleas, the manager remained resolute in his decision to terminate them.

As they begged for mercy, their eyes turned towards me.

"Miss Lewiston, we are deeply sorry," Judy's voice dripped with anger. Just moments ago, she and the others had been on my side. Now, their loyalty had evaporated. She clenched her fists in frustration.

"You've surprised me. Did you sell your body?"

None of them answered her question, not even me. They abandoned their arrogance and stood together, pleading for my forgiveness.

“Ms. Lewiston, we were wrong. Please forgive us this time, and we promise never to do it again.”

“Ms. Lewiston, we're sorry for belittling you. Please, be generous and give us a chance to redeem ourselves.”

“Ms. Lewiston, you're a big-hearted person. Please, forgive us.”

I watched as they begged and pleaded, but I felt no sympathy stir within me.

I wasn't the forgiving type, nor did I aspire to be. If I forgave them now, after they had insulted and scorned me, I'd only be fooling myself.