I sat down at the dining table. My hands were still trembling as I grabbed the calculator. I went through my finances carefully, making sure I didn't miss a single cent. I added up my savings, what was left of my severance, and the small reserves I had kept for emergencies. When I finished, the result felt both depressing… and oddly hopeful. I could cover my sister's medication for a full year. At least that gave me some breathing room. After that, I only had enough left to rent a small apartment and pay two months upfront. I took a shaky breath, trying to steady myself against a reality that felt like a fist tightening around my chest. I needed a job, now. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Now. But with Adrian Sterling blocking me at every turn… who would even hire me? He had eyes everywhere. Connections in every major industry. A reputation for crushing careers as easily as someone might crush an ant. Then, almost out of desperation, an idea crossed my mind. It

Adrian Sterling's gaze slid over my body so slowly, so openly possessive, that I felt like he'd stripped me naked right there in the middle of the room. A wave of shame and anger crashed over me, heat rising from my chest to my cheeks. I wanted to disappear, wished the floor would open up and swallow me whole. Why the hell did I have such terrible luck? Out of everyone in the bar, why did it have to be him? I tried to pull myself together, pushing the drink cart toward the farthest corner of the table, focusing on pouring the glasses without shaking. But my body wouldn't cooperate. My hands trembled so badly the wine nearly spilled over the bottle's edge. And then I felt his hand, firm and warm. Guiding my grip like I still worked for him, like he still had any claim over me. "Vanessa…" he whispered, his voice trailing down my spine like a cold shiver. "You quit your assistant job… just to end up like this?" I looked up and found him watching me again, studying every curv

I came to slowly, like I was rising out of a thick darkness that had swallowed me whole. I had no idea how many hours, minutes, or lifetimes had passed since I'd lost consciousness. At first, all I felt was a heavy weight on my chest and a sharp pain at my temple, like my soul was fighting its way back into my body. I opened my eyes slowly, and the first thing I saw was a still figure sitting beside me. It took me a second to recognize him, but when I did, it felt like all the blood drained out of my body. Adrian Sterling was there, so close I could hear his steady breathing. His eyes were closed, and his hand rested just beside mine, like he'd been watching over me… or guarding me. I couldn't tell. My heart jolted. Instinctively, I pulled my hand away, and that small movement was enough to wake him. His eyes opened immediately, like only his body had been asleep, but his mind had been wide awake. Our eyes met, and the world seemed to stop. "Vanessa…" he said, his dee

I walked out too fast. So fast I didn't give myself time to think, to breathe, or to pull myself together. My body felt stiff, my throat tight, my chest burning like something was eating me alive from the inside. I was humiliated, offended, shaken, drowning in a toxic mix of shame and anger that made me want to claw my own skin off. It was night. A cold night, the kind where the wind doesn't just bite your bones, it crawls straight into your head. I threw my coat on almost blindly, my hands clumsy. I had already checked the exit earlier. I knew where to go, how to leave without a trace. Or at least, I thought I did. I walked fast, not looking around, focused only on reaching the subway, on getting down those stairs and leaving everything behind. And then I saw a black, imposing luxury car. A Bentley, parked right there like it had been waiting for me. Like it knew exactly which way I'd come. And leaning against it, cut sharply by the streetlights, was Adrian Sterling. He

"Who told you that, Agnes? Please, just listen to me!" My voice came out broken, desperate, like if I raised it loud enough, I could grab hold of her soul and force her to stay. I stepped toward her, reaching out, but she didn't just pull away. She shoved me with a force I didn't know she had, like I was something filthy, something that burned to touch. "You're not the good one, Vanessa!" she shouted, and her words hit straight through my chest. "They always made me worship you. Said I lived because of you, that everything was thanks to you… and look at you. Look what you do to survive. I don't want anything from you. Not your dirty money, not your fake love." Every word was a blow. Not clean, not sharp. It was like she was ripping pieces out of me from the inside, stripping me raw in front of myself. I tried to speak, to explain, to tell her it wasn't like that, that nothing was that simple, that I had been pushed, dragged, broken too… But she didn't give me the chance. The