Nobela ni Dania

By Monday morning, the entire marketing floor was buzzing—and not because of work.Julia could feel it the second she stepped off the elevator. The stares. The smirks. The half-whispered gossip that stopped whenever she passed. Her skin prickled with heat before she even reached her desk.“Did you hear?” “They live in the same building.” “Same floor, actually. Maybe she’s his… you know.” “No wonder he’s still employed.”Julia slammed her files onto her desk harder than necessary. “Morning,” she muttered.“Morning,” said Brandon cheerfully from the seat next to hers. He looked infuriatingly relaxed, sleeves rolled up, tapping his pen as if the whole world didn’t have its tongue wagging about them.Julia hissed under her breath, “Do you have any idea what people are saying?”He blinked innocently. “That I’m finally getting along with someone?”“They think we’re dating!” she snapped. “Because we come in at the same time!”He tilted his head. “Well… we do leave together too.”Julia’s m

The elevator ride felt longer than a lifetime.Julia smoothed her thrifted blazer for the tenth time, trying not to fidget under the mirrored ceiling’s harsh reflection. The Hughes Corporation headquarters gleamed like a monument to arrogance—glass, marble, and the faint scent of wealth she no longer belonged to.You can do this, she told herself. Keep your head down, work hard, get paid.The elevator dinged. Welcome to the 18th floor: Marketing Division.Rows of sleek desks, humming computers, and people who looked like they were born wearing designer suits. Julia clutched her staff badge and found her assigned seat—right at the corner, next to the copier and far from the sunlight. Perfect. Invisible.“New temp?” a woman’s voice chirped.Julia turned. Ms. Sanders—sharp heels, sharper smile—stood with a folder tucked under her arm. “I’m your supervisor. You’ll handle errands, proofreading, and whatever else I decide you can handle. Understood?”“Yes, ma’am,” Julia said quickly.Ms. S

Julia had never thought desperation could taste so bitter. Yet here she was, clutching the crisp white offer letter like it was a rope tied to her survival.Hughes Corporation.Of all places in the city, the universe had decided to shove her into the belly of the beast she despised. The very name of that empire made her stomach churn.Still, rent wouldn’t pay itself. Groceries didn’t magically appear in her cupboards. And her third job at the late-night diner had slashed her shifts again.“Damn it…” Julia muttered, pressing the paper against her forehead as though that could ease the pounding in her skull. “I’ll just swallow my pride. Money first, hatred later.”From the couch, Brandon peeked over the rim of the instant coffee he’d stolen from her stash. He was lounging like a king in exile, legs crossed, looking oddly at home in her cramped apartment.“So… you’re finally going corporate?” His lips quirked into a smirk. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”Julia shot him a glare sharp en

Julia’s hands trembled as she gripped the ID card tighter. The name Hughes burned like acid across her vision. She set it down on the table with a sharp snap.When Brandon finally stirred, rubbing sleep from his eyes, Julia was waiting. Arms crossed, jaw set, eyes blazing.“Care to explain this?” She shoved the ID card toward him.Brandon froze, the lazy smirk fading from his lips. For once, he didn’t have a witty retort ready. He stared at the card, then back at her.“Why lie about who you are?” Julia demanded, her voice low but fierce. “Brandon Carter, Hughes… whatever your name is. Do you think this is funny? Do you know what your family has done?”He sat up slowly, running a hand through his messy hair. “It’s not what you think.”“Then tell me what it is.”A long pause stretched between them. Brandon’s gaze darkened, his usual arrogance replaced by something guarded.“I just… wanted to start fresh.” His tone was flat, evasive. “I don’t want to be Hughes anymore. That’s it.”Julia’

Brandon Carter—or so he called himself—looked perfectly at ease sprawled across Julia’s couch. He stretched like a lazy cat, while Julia stormed around her tiny kitchen, muttering about freeloaders.“You’re still here?” she snapped, tying her apron before work.“You agreed,” he said smugly. “Your landlord should thank me. I’m basically saving his business.”“You’re saving your butt,” Julia shot back. “And don’t touch anything while I’m gone.”Of course, the moment she left for her morning shift, Brandon touched everything.The refrigerator hummed, half-empty save for eggs, pack of instant noodle, and a wilting bunch of spinach. Brandon eyed the eggs like they were a puzzle.“How hard can it be?” he muttered.Ten minutes later, black smoke curled from the frying pan. The eggs were burnt to a crisp, the pan handle slick with grease. Brandon coughed, fanning the smoke alarm with a dish towel.“Why would anyone cook this themselves?” he groaned, dumping the charred remains straight into t

The icy wind slapped Julia’s cheeks as she stomped her way up the narrow staircase of her old apartment building. Her shoulders ached from a twelve-hour shift at the café, her manager’s scolding still echoing in her ears. She fumbled for her keys, muttering under her breath.“Life, if you’re listening, can you give me one night of peace?”As if on cue, a low groan drifted from the shadows at the landing. Julia froze, her grip on her bag tightening. A tall figure slumped against the wall, half-sprawled on the dirty floor. The dim flickering light revealed a familiar face—disheveled, pale, lips trembling.“Brandon?” Her voice cracked.The last time she’d seen him, he was arrogantly tossing hundred-dollar bills at the café like they meant nothing. Now, the once-glorious heir of Carter Enterprises looked like a wreck. His shirt hung loose, his hair a chaotic mess, and his eyes fluttered half-shut as if he were losing a battle with consciousness.Julia’s first instinct was to walk right pa