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"Strip!"

"What? What the hell did you say?"

"With that one inch of fabric hanging from your waist which I bet is higher than your IQ level, I don't think you have come here for an interview."

"Excuse me! But I guess you don't know who I'm."

"I don't need to know who the hell you are, you need to know who I am."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" She dugs her long nails in her portfolio which she is now holding close to her chest.

He steps closer to her and pulls down her skirt harshly to her hip, "I don't think, but I am the richest billionaire, but for you, the bane of your existence."