Chapter 8

Isla’s POV

“I’m sorry, but this is a high-class bar,” the manager said, her eyes scanning me like I was something she sfcraped off her shoe. “We can’t just hire anyone to work here.”

Rejection.

That awful word again.

And let me tell you—it never gets easier.

I swallowed hard, fighting back the lump forming in my throat. “But I really need this job,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”

She gave me a long, slow look. The kind of look that strips you bare without ever laying a hand on you.

“Desperation isn’t a good look,” she said with a smirk. “Trust me.”

Then she leaned back in her chair like she was doing me a favor. “You might want to try somewhere… more your class.”

My brows furrowed. My class? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

She continued before I could even respond. “There’s an old bar a few miles from here. Pretty run-down, but I’m sure they’ll be glad to have you.”

I blinked, trying to process the insult. Before I could get a word out, she stood and opened the door to her office.

“If you don’t mind, I have a lot of work to do,” she said with a sweet smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

I walked past her in silence, my face burning with humiliation. I didn’t trust myself to speak—I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, the tears would come pouring out with the words.

Once I was out of the office, I thought about leaving. Just finding some quiet place to park and cry myself to sleep. But I couldn’t. Not yet.

I didn’t want to feel this pain anymore. Even if just for one night, I wanted to forget.

So… I stayed.

One shot turned into two.

Two turned into three.

And after that, I lost count.

But no matter how much I drank, the ache in my chest stayed. That hollow emptiness, the tightness in my throat… none of it went away.

Why did life have to be so cruel?

Why did it feel like I was always reaching, always fighting, and still… never enough?

I stared down into my half-empty glass, my vision blurring with unshed tears. The bar noise faded into a distant hum. Laughter, clinking glasses, music—I couldn’t feel any of it.

Just the silence inside me.

Just the question that echoed louder than anything else.

Why?

Why were all these bad things happening to me?

I didn’t understand. I really didn’t.

I tried. Goddess knows, I tried—

I tried to be good enough.

Tried to be the perfect daughter, the obedient child who never talked back, who smiled through the pain.

Tried to be the perfect wife to Zed, to love him even when he couldn’t see me. Even when he looked right through me like I didn’t exist.

But no matter what I did, it was never enough.

They always chose her.

Even though we were twins. Even though I breathed the same air, shared the same blood, carried the same face.

Even though I was better.

At least, I used to think I was.

I downed my next shot, the burn rushing down my throat and settling like fire in my stomach. I hiccupped—and then… I giggled. I sounded ridiculous. I was ridiculous.

I raised my glass again, sticking my tongue out at the world like a petulant child.

But it was empty.

Figures.

I guess that was my cue.

I tried to stand up, but the moment I got on my feet, the world tilted sideways. One step, and I was already staggering. My hand reached out to steady myself on the table—but it didn’t help. I felt the ground rushing up to meet me.

Great. Just what I needed—falling on my face to top off the worst day of my life.

But before I could crash, a pair of slender arms caught me by the arm, gently steadying me.

I blinked, disoriented, and turned my head.

A woman was looking at me, concern clear in her eyes. She didn’t look like she belonged here—not in a place like this. She was dressed in a crisp blazer, heels, and a watch that probably cost more than everything I owned. She looked like she should’ve been at some high-end business conference, not rescuing drunks from the floor of a half-lit bar.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly, her hand firm but gentle on my arm.

I jerked my arm away from her grasp. “Leave me the hell alone,” I slurred, barely able to form the words.

Then I shoved past her, stumbling toward the door, not even caring where I was going.

I just needed to get away.

“Hey! Where are you going? You’re wasted!” I heard her yell after me.

“Go fuck yourself!” I shouted back without turning around, my voice rough and bitter.

The door creaked open, and I stepped out into the night.

The cold hit me like a slap.

I took a shaky breath and clutched my purse tighter, trying to hold myself together. My shoes clicked unevenly against the pavement as I made my way across the parking lot, praying no one would notice how unsteady I was.

I just needed to make it to the car.

I just needed to look like I was okay.

But inside, I was falling apart.

The shame settled in my chest like ice. I had spent what little money I had left… on alcohol. I had drowned my sorrow in drinks and forgot—forgot—that I wasn’t alone anymore. That I had a little life inside me now. A baby depending on me.

What kind of mother was I?

The thought made me want to vomit.

I blinked, trying to focus, but everything felt… off. The parking lot looked darker than I remembered. Had it always been this dim? And where the hell was my car?

Had I walked this far from it?

I couldn’t remember.

I forced myself to keep walking. One foot in front of the other, I told myself.

Don’t fall. Don’t stagger. Don’t give anyone a reason to take your baby away from you.

Because at this point, he was all I had left.

And I couldn’t afford to lose him too.

I pressed the button on my car key, and somewhere ahead, I heard the beep.

Not far now.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Just a few more steps and I’d be safe—for tonight, at least.

Maybe I could just sleep it off in the car… maybe till morning. Who knew?

“Hey, mami…”

The voice came from behind me—low, unfamiliar, laced with something that made my skin crawl.

I quickened my pace, heart pounding. My heels clicked faster against the pavement as I walked toward the sound of the car’s soft blinkers.

Come on… just a few more steps.

I reached the car, but my hands were shaking. I fumbled with the keys, struggling to fit it into the lock. The key kept missing the hole. My fingers weren’t cooperating.

Then I heard it again—closer this time.

“Why are youn running, mami?”

A shadow loomed beside me. The voice was rough, menacing. “Come on now… hand over the bag.”

I turned sharply, adrenaline kicking in.

Maybe it was the alcohol.

Maybe it was everything I’d gone through in the past few days.

But something inside me—something buried deep—snapped.

I’d had enough.

Enough of being pushed around.

Enough of being taken from.

Enough of being weak.

With a scream, I raised my bag and charged at him, rage fueling every step.

But I didn’t make it far.

Pain exploded through the side of my head, white-hot and blinding.

I collapsed to the cold ground, my body hitting the pavement with a sickening thud.

My bag was ripped from my hand as I groaned in pain, unable to stop them.

I could hear their footsteps fading fast as they ran off.

My vision blurred. My head throbbed so badly it felt like it might split open. I couldn’t even scream. Could barely breathe.

I just lay there… aching… afraid.

Then I heard footsteps running toward me.

“Hey! Are you okay?”

A voice—feminine, panicked—reached me through the haze as someone crouched beside me.

“My baby…” I whispered, one arm instinctively wrapping around my stomach.

I heard her gasp, then call out for help, her voice fading as the darkness finally pulled me under.