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Fifteen minutes. That was my countdown to to the end of this shift
I was weaving through the cafe with a tray of lattes balanced on my hand, dodging the elbows of people who paid for coffee with hundred-dollar bills that was how expensive this place is. Then, my pocket buzzed. The sound was A sharp, annoying jolt. I knew I shouldn’t have reached for it, but I did. I looked down for just a second, and that was my mistake I should have completely ignored it. The tray tilted. I snapped my wrist back to save the glasses, but a dark splash of espresso jumped over the rim. It landed right on a girl’s pale pink silk dress. “Oh no, no! You ruined it!” She didn't just speak to me, she screamed at me. She stood over me, watching the stain spread across her expensive dress. Every conversation in the room stopped. “Look what you’ve done!” She spun around to the man behind her. “William, look! She just ruined my dress!” “It was an accident, Juliana. You were moving too fast and you bumped into her.” His voice was deep, calm, and cut right through her panic. I finally looked up. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. My hands were shaking. “But she should have been paying attention!” Juliana snapped, her face turning red. “An apology doesn't fix my dress!” “Let’s go to the restroom and see if we can clean it,” the man said. He stepped into the light, and I actually forgot to breathe. He looked like he was made of power. His white shirt was perfectly pressed, his hair was perfectly styled, and he didn't even look at me. He wasn't mad; he was just... bored. He looked like he owned the whole building. I looked like a girl who lived above a hair salon and worked three jobs just to survive. “It’s just a stain, Juliana. Don’t make a scene,” he added. He led her away by the elbow but, He never looked back. To him, I was just a glitch in his day. I went back to the kitchen, my chest feeling tight. I finished the rest of my shift like a ghost, cleaning machines and stacking mugs until my manager finally gave me the nod. “You’re done for the night. Go home.” I didn't wait. I pushed through the back door and leaned against the cold brick wall in the alley, finally pulling the phone from my pocket. Five missed calls. One text. I got married! I read it three times. The city noise felt like it was fading away. Married? My mother had been chasing "soulmates" for years, but this was different. No warning. No name. Just a text message. “Everything okay, Bel?” Dave, another server, was holding the door open. I stuffed the phone away and forced a smile. “Yeah. Just tired.” An hour later, I was sitting on my bed. The springs creaked as I moved, and the air smelled like hairspray and floral shampoo from Aunt Joey’s salon downstairs. This room, with its old furniture and cracked window, had been my safe space since I was twelve—the year my mom decided a daughter didn't fit her travel schedule. The phone buzzed again. A new message. His name is Arthur Sterling. He’s booked your flight, Bel. You leave for London in forty-eight hours. I stared at the screen until the light hurt my eyes. Then the phone started ringing, vibrating in my hand. My mother wasn't going to wait. I swiped the screen, my heart racing. "Mom?" "Bel! Oh, thank goodness you finally picked up!" Sarah’s voice was like fake sugar—sweet and totally hollow. In the background, I could hear ice clinking in a glass and fancy classical music. "Did you see? Can you believe it? I’m a Sterling now!" "A Sterling? As in Arthur Sterling? The billionaire?" I repeated the name, feeling totally numb. "Mom, you’ve been in London for four months. How do you even know him, let alone marry him?" "It was fate, darling! He’s everything I’ve ever wanted. He’s stable, he’s brilliant, and he wants to take care of us. No more living in that tiny apartment, Bel. No more scrubbing floors or serving coffee." I closed my eyes, feeling sick. "I like my life here, Mom. I like Joey. And I have a plan. I’ve worked three jobs for three years to get into that London college program. I don't need a billionaire to 'save' me." "Don't be a martyr, Isabel. It’s annoying." Her voice turned cold for a second. " I know your bank account balance. I know you’re five thousand pounds short for your tuition, and the college won't hold your spot after this month. Arthur checked into everything." A cold chill ran through me. "He looked at my bank account? Why?" "Because he wants to help! He’s offered you a job, Bel. An internship at Sterling Global. The pay covers your tuition and more. You’ll live here at the estate. You just have to get on the plane. It leaves tomorrow night." Tomorrow night. Forty-eight hours to leave the only home I knew. "I can't just leave Joey. She’s the one who stayed, Mom. She was there when you weren't." "Joey is fine, Bel. Arthur is even going to invest in her salon. But he can't do that if you’re being stubborn. Think about your future. Do you want to be a waitress forever?" I looked at my hands. They were red and dry from cleaning supplies. My back hurt, and I was exhausted. I thought of the man from the cafe—William. The way he looked right through me. "Who would I be working for?" "Arthur’s son. He’s a bit... intense. But he’s brilliant. You’ll be working right in his department. It’s a huge head start." "I’ll think about it," I whispered. "Don't think too long. The driver will be at your door at 4:00 PM tomorrow. I love you, Bel. This is for the best." The line went dead. I sat in the silence for a long time, until the door creaked open.This ride back to the Sterling manor was supposed to feel like a victory lap. I had survived the cameras, handled the sharks, and saved the project. But inside the Bentley, it felt like I was being transported to a high-security prison.William sat in the driver’s seat, his face looking like it had been carved out of stone. He didn’t look at me once. He just stared at the road, his knuckles white against the steering wheel."You realize," he finally said, his voice a low, scary growl that made my stomach flip, "that what you did today wasn't saving anything. It was a disaster.""The stock price went up, William!" I snapped back. My heart was still racing from the adrenaline. "The reporters were actually smiling. People like the project now! How is that a disaster?""Because you promised them the impossible, Isabel!" He finally looked at me, his honey-colored eyes flashing like fire. "A three-month deadline to start construction? We don't have the permits. We don't have the builders. W
A reporter in the front row, a woman with a sharp bob and a notebook that looked like a weapon, stood up first."Miss Mayfield, let’s be real. Sterling Global has a history of Community beautification projects that just end up being excuses for luxury condos.” “Why should the people of this neighborhood believe a single tree is actually going to be planted?"I leaned into the mic, my voice steady "Because this isn't a charity project; it’s a self-sustaining ecosystem. We’re using the underground parking as a hidden engine. The revenue from those spaces doesn't go into a CEO’s pocket, it goes back into the soil. It pays for the gardeners, the lights, and the security. If the park dies, the project fails. “We need it to thrive as much as the neighborhood does."I saw a few reporters actually stop mid-scribble. They liked that. It made sense. It was smart.But then, a guy in the back, a total shark with a voice that sounded like gravel, stood up. He didn't look impressed."That’s a ni
Fifty-nine minutes. That was all the time I had before my life either became a success or crashed and burned in front of a dozen TV cameras. I hurried away from William’s office, my heart thumping against my ribs. I didn’t even know what the crisis actually was about. Was the company in trouble? Was William in trouble? I felt like I was walking into a trap, and I had no idea how to get out. I ducked into a small breakroom, desperate for a glass of water. "You look like you're about to see a ghost. Or maybe you just saw William’s coffee bill. Either way, you should probably sit down." I jumped, nearly spilling water all over my blazer. Sitting in the corner was a guy who looked like he lived on energy drinks and computer screens. He had messy curls and thick glasses, and he was wearing a hoodie under a blazer that was definitely too big for him. He looked like the kind of guy who could hack into a bank but forgot to brush his hair. "I'm Isabel," I said, trying to stop my ha
The hallway felt way too quiet after William walked away. I stood there for a long time, leaning against the cold stone wall, just trying to remember how to breathe. The fancy blue silk dress my mom had been so excited about? It didn’t feel like a gift anymore. It felt like a costume I was forced to wear—a constant reminder that William thought I was just a "gold-digger" in a disguise. I looked down at my shoes. They were just plain, worn-out flats I’d polished until the scuffs almost disappeared. They were the same ones that had gotten me through twelve-hour shifts back in Brooklyn. In this house of marble and glass, they looked like trash. When I finally made it to my room, my fingers fumbled with the tiny silk buttons on the back. They felt like traps. As soon as the fabric hit the floor, I stepped out of it like it was on fire. I yanked on my massive, oversized college hoodie and a pair of faded leggings my real skin, the type of clothing I feel most comfortable in. I stared at
The ride home was quiet and smooth, and as soon as we pulled up, I bolted to my room. I needed a shower to wash off the stress of the day and the literal dirt of the office. The fatigue was settled deep in my bones, and for a second, the warm water made me forget where I was.An hour later, Mrs. Higgins knocked on my door. She handed me a gorgeous, expensive-looking blue silk dress and said it was a gift from my mother for dinner. I walked downstairs feeling starving, but dinner ended up being a total blur of clinking silverware and my mother’s loud, fake-sounding laughter.I kept my eyes glued to my plate, picking at a piece of sea bass I couldn't even taste. Every time I took a breath, the blue silk felt like it was squeezing my ribs—a constant reminder that I was wrapped up in someone else’s expectations."You're very quiet, Isabel," Arthur said, his voice booming kindly through the awkward tension. "William, are you already working her too hard?"William didn't even look up from h
The alarm clock on my nightstand didn't just beep; it sounded like a literal siren for my own execution. 5:45 AM.I rolled out of the silk sheets—which felt way too smooth and expensive, like they were making fun of my dry, New York skin—and stood in the middle of a walk-in closet the size of my old apartment. My eyes landed on the dark floral dress hanging there. I reached for it, my fingers just brushing the fabric, before William’s voice hissed in my head: Take this off and burn it.I pulled out a stiff charcoal blazer and a crisp white shirt from my suitcase instead. It was professional, uncomfortable, and felt like wearing a suit of armor.By 6:55 AM, I was standing in the grand hallway. The marble floors were polished so bright I could see my own nervous face reflecting back at me. I checked my watch. 6:58."Punctual. That’s a new one for your family."William was leaning against the doorway of the study, a silver espresso cup in one hand and a leather briefcase in the other. He







