Chapter 3: Bathroom

After the gala, Sienna threw herself into work like a woman running from her own thoughts. She barely slept, barely ate, barely looked at her phone. Her biggest client account—Mr. Ben, one of the firm’s wealthiest and most demanding investors—was sitting on her desk like a ticking bomb. Charts, graphs, projections, risk reports… all scattered across her screen as she tried to perfect every detail.

The pressure was insane.

She was already stretched thin, but she kept telling herself:

“Just push a little more. Just one more hour.”

And that one hour became two… then five… then nine.

By 2 a.m., her eyes were burning, her head was pounding, and the office was silent except for the soft clicking of her mouse. Sienna rubbed her temples, then leaned forward to analyze one last trend.

Her eyelids grew heavy.

She blinked slowly.

Her head bobbed.

“Just… one second,” she whispered to herself as she fought sleep.

But exhaustion finally won.

Her cheek landed on her keyboard.

Her fingers dragged across the mousepad.

And before she even realized it, her half-conscious movement triggered a confirmation click.

BUY.

A massive position.

A position she would never approve.

A position that could break a firm.

When she jerked awake, her eyes shot straight to the screen.

Her heart stopped.

“Omg please lord—please don’t tell me I didn’t just mistakenly click on the trade. Please tell me I didn’t…” she whispered, shaking violently.

She clicked the trade history.

The order was there.

And the numbers were red.

Bleeding.

The market had instantly moved against her.

A 1 billion dollar loss.

Her eyes opened widely and her mouth to as she choked back and screamed. She tried to reverse the trade, hedge it, patch it—anything—but it was too late. The damage had already been done.

Sienna stayed in the office until midnight, pacing across the carpet, whispering prayers, rereading charts, trying to find a miracle. But logic wouldn’t bend. Money lost was money lost.

By the time she drove home, her body was trembling so badly she could barely put her key in the door.

She walked straight to the bathroom, turned on the shower, stepped inside fully naked, and instantly collapsed to her knees as hot water ran over her shaking body.

Her sobs were uncontrollable.

“What am I going to do…? I lost a billion dollars. My whole career… gone. Just like that. Because I was tired. Because I wasn’t careful enough.”

Her breathing became short, sharp, panicked.

“I can’t recover from this. My boss will destroy me. My reputation is over. God… why would this happen now? Why me?”

Down the hallway, Layla—who had also had a terrible week—was about to knock on Sienna’s door to vent about her dating disaster. But the moment she heard the crying, everything in her heart softened.

She quietly stepped into the room, saw Sienna’s laptop still open, papers thrown everywhere, and instead of asking questions, she grabbed a pen.

On a small paper she wrote:

“Sienna, whatever the matter is — it’s temporary.

Tough moments build us into stronger women.

I’m here for you.

– Layla”

She placed it gently on Sienna’s desk and left.

When Sienna finally stepped out of the shower—eyes red, breathing uneven—she noticed the note. She picked it up slowly, read it twice, then pressed it to her chest as her lips curved into the smallest, saddest smile.

“That girl…” she whispered.

It wasn’t much, but somehow it gave her a tiny spark of strength.

She dried her hair, wrapped herself in a robe, and returned to the charts. She forced herself to sit still. Her hands still shook, but her mind sharpened.

She studied. Calculated. Reevaluated.

And then…

She saw something.

A pattern she trusted.

A setup she had traded a thousand times. High probability. Low risk. Clean entry.

She exhaled and clicked BUY.

Her heart beat violently as the candles moved.

Ten minutes passed.

Then twenty.

Then—

Green.

Profit.

Then more green.

She covered half the loss.

500 million recovered.

Her eyes widened. Her breath caught. Relief washed over her—but only halfway. She still had to fix the rest.

There was no sleep that night.

At 6 a.m., she put on the neatest blazer she could find, tied her hair into a bun, and tried to hide the puffiness of her eyes with makeup. She looked drained, but determined.

The moment she stepped into the office, she could feel it—the tension. People staring. Whispers. Energy shifts.

Then her boss’s voice echoed from down the hallway.

“Sienna. My office. Now.”

She swallowed hard and stepped inside.

He slammed a printed statement on his desk.

“Explain THIS. Mr. Ben’s portfolio has a billion-dollar loss. What the hell happened?”

Her throat tightened. Tears gathered instantly.

“I… I fell asleep at my desk.”

She sniffed.

“The cursor moved. I didn’t mean to place the trade. I tried to fix it—”

“You TRIED?” he snapped.

“You know what a billion means, Sienna? Why were you even sleeping on the job? Do you know how irresponsible this is?”

Sienna broke.

The tears fell.

But before he could finish his tirade, she forced herself to speak through her shaking voice.

“I recovered 500 million.”

That made him pause.

His anger softened—barely—but it was enough.

“You’re lucky,” he said coldly.

“If you hadn’t recovered that, I would’ve suspended you immediately.”

He pointed at the door.

“Now go. And don’t come back until the rest is recovered.”

She nodded silently and left, feeling like her legs were made of paper.

When she reached her small office, she collapsed into her chair and opened the group chat.

Her message was short:

“Girls… I messed up bad. I won’t be coming home tonight.”

Within minutes, they replied:

Amara: We’re coming.

Layla: Stay there. We’re on our way.

Talia: We’ve got you.

Lila: Just breathe, baby. We’re coming.

A few hours later, they arrived carrying takeout bags, soft blankets, and warm hugs. As soon as they saw her, they wrapped their arms around her tightly.

“Girl, you’re human,” Amara whispered.

“Mistakes don’t erase your brilliance,” Layla added.

For the first time that day, Sienna felt like she could breathe again.

They stayed with her until she felt steady enough to return to her charts.

Around midnight…

The golden setup appeared.

Perfect.

Clean.

Flawless.

She executed the trade—a deep, confident breath leaving her chest.

Twenty minutes later, her screen flashed.

Profit.

Big profit.

She didn’t just recover the second 500 million…

She doubled it.

1 billion gained.

Loss erased.

Reputation saved.

Account in profit.

Sienna covered her mouth with her hands as relief crashed over her body like a wave.

She called the girls immediately.

“I did it,” she whispered, voice trembling. “I made it all back.”

Their screams of joy echoed through the line.

Sienna leaned back in her chair, exhausted… but victorious.

She had survived the storm.

And she knew, deep down, she would never be the same woman again.