Mag-log inBetty’s POV
Crystal glasses and golden chandeliers glistened throughout the ballroom. This was a place I had never been before. Everyone appeared to have stepped out of high-end magazines. I tried to breathe and tell myself that I was invited here, and that I belonged. However, on the inside, I felt like a shadow that nobody wanted to see.
She approached me at that point. Vivienne. Her lips curled into a ruthless smile, and her robe was made of blood-red silk. She examined me from head to toe as though I were a discoloration on her shoes.
"Well, well!" she said it loud enough for visitors in the vicinity to hear. The charity case, if it's not tiny Betty. Did you enter covertly from the rear entrance? Or were you mistaken for the help? My cheeks began to get hot. My glass shook in my trembling hands. I desired to merge with the floor. "I..I was invited." My voice cracked as I spoke.Vivienne gave a scathing laugh.
"Invited? Who did it? Don't tell me that Larry gave you access. Darling, you're not even in the same league. This is not a sympathy party; it's a gala.”Those around him laughed. Like knives, the sound pierced into me.
I put down my glass and said, "I should go."
“Then run along, she sneered. That's your speciality. Sprinting.” I didn't want her to see me cry, even though tears were burning my eyes. Desperate for oxygen, I turned and pushed through the pack. The sound of her laughter filled my ears, and my chest tightened. Gulping the chilly night air as if it could save my life, I ran through the doors onto the balcony.
I tried to steady myself by holding onto the railing. My heart felt like it had just finished a marathon.
"Betty, are you running away again?" My entire body tensed. That voice seemed familiar to me.
Larry. Slowly, I turned. His eyes were cold and impenetrable as he stood there with a glass in his crisp black suit.
He examined every inch of the wealthy millionaire that everyone was chatting about.
My voice was trembling, but I yelled, "You shouldn't sneak up on people."
He arched an eyebrow. "I wasn't sly. I watched you leave. Would you mind explaining why Vivienne appeared to have recently won a battle? I took a deep breath.
"Because she did." She made me look bad in front of everyone. You were standing there. They laughed, and you heard it.
He clenched his jaw. "You are overly preoccupied with what other people think. Weakness is not forgiven in this world. Either you fight or you lose.“
I balled my hands into fists.
“It's simple for you to say. You came from a wealthy family. You have no idea what it's like to be treated like you're worthless and to struggle for every scrap!” His eyes grew gloomy.
"Don't presume you are familiar with my life. Do you believe that having money makes life easier? Imagine growing up in a home where trust is a joke and affection is nonexistent.”
With fire meeting fire, we looked at one another. Anger surged in my chest, but beneath it was something else. Something hazardous.
"You're cruel," I spat out.
Before I could spell jack, his lips slammed into mine before I could stop him. How could I even stop him...?
It felt like we were both trying to prove something, and the kiss was wild and fierce. I pushed him away, finally, panting.
"What are you doing?" I let out a gasp. With his eyes flaming, he answered roughly,
"What you wanted."
"I didn't—" When he brought me in close one again, my objection died. After pushing at him, my hands betrayed me; instead, I gripped his jacket.
My entire being whirled. How we got there is a mystery to me. My pulse was beating like a drum as I staggered upstairs into his suite after we had just been kissing on the balcony.
"Larry, hold on, we shouldn't." I opened my lips to speak, but his mouth sucked it up. His breath was hot against my skin, his hands were powerful, and his touch was scorching, yet it felt amazing. Every caution cried out for me to flee. However, my body melted beneath him, betraying me. I didn't want to be the helpless, pathetic girl whom everyone made fun of for just one night. I wanted to feel alive for one night. I wanted to be desired, wanted, and have a sense of belonging. Heat, shattered words, and frantic touches filled the room.
The last of my defence was broken as he mumbled, "Betty," on my neck. I fell. It was careless. It was risky. And it turned out to be my best mistake in life.
The Following Morning, the room was filled with sunlight. With my head thumping, I opened my eyes. For a wonderful moment, I believed it to be a dream. I looked back and saw Larry buttoning his shirt, his face as icy as ice.
"Good morning," I said as I wrapped the sheet about myself, shyly yet excitedly like a schoolgirl. He avoided looking at me. He placed something on the nightstand instead. A wad of cash.
I felt sick to my stomach.
"What is that, exactly?"
His eyes were harsh when he finally looked up at me. "Payment. Did you not want that? Did you come here with the intention of making money? At least you deserve it now. The words broke my heart.
"You think I'm some cheap slut?” My voice broke.
He shrugged.
"Aren't you? Women just like you do that. It's quite obvious.”
My vision was blurred with tears. My entire body trembled as I gripped the sheet more tightly..." I didn't ask for this. I didn't request you...to..." my words betray me. I tried to speak while searching into his empty eyes.
"Then go," he answered icily. "The door is open."
I put on my dress to leave, feeling embarrassed at every step. As I grabbed for the handle, my hands shook.
"Goodbye, Larry," I said, using the last ounce of my dignity, and left. In a barely audible whisper. Before he could witness my tears, I left hurriedly.
After that dreadful evening, time became hazy. I plunged myself into my job, in an effort to forget about him, or so I thought. Four weeks had passed, but the ugly memories were gone.
My body began to turn on me, too. First came the nausea. I assumed it was stress. Then the lightheartedness. Then the cycle that was missed. I hoped the world would be fair just this one time. I can barely survive a day in this world; imagine raising another person in it.
Later that night, I shut myself in a restroom at home, and I held a small white stick in my trembling hands. The lines came when I looked. Unambiguous. It's an obvious double line. I was struck with a surge of fear. My knees almost gave out. I put a hand to my tummy, and whispered, "No… no, this can't be real."
The door creaked open before I could catch my breath.
A voice called, "Betty?"
With the test still in my hand, I froze.
MEGAN'S POVThe fluorescent light above me flickered with a rhythmic, dying buzz that felt like it was drilling directly into my skull. I didn't know how many hours it had been since the man with the gray eyes had left the room with his silver phone and his cold smiles. All I knew was that the silence was worse than the shouting. The silence meant they were busy doing something else, something to Liam.I sat on the floor, staring at the heavy steel door. My hands were shaking, but I forced them still. I had to be the person I was before the mansions and the emeralds. I had to be the girl who could fix a broken industrial mixer with a paperclip and a prayer.I looked down at the floor. It was mostly bare, but near the corner where the brick met the concrete, I saw a glint of something thin and dark. I scrambled over, my fingernails scraping the grit, and pulled it out.An industrial staple. Thick, heavy-duty, and slightly rusted.It wasn't a lockpick. It wasn't even close. But it
Megan's povI stood there in the flickering light, the cold floor beneath my feet, and realized that for all my talk of independence, I had never been more helpless. I had run away from a cage, only to find myself in a trap. And as the man held up the camera, I knew that whatever happened next, the world I knew was gone forever.Larry's povI stood in the center of the mobile command unit, a blacked-out van idling two blocks away from the Trent Club, and watched the video for the fourteenth time.The screen of my phone was cracked from when I’d gripped it too hard, a jagged line running through Megan’s face. In the video, she looked pale, her hair a mess, standing against a featureless gray wall. Her voice was steady, but it was the kind of steady that only comes from someone holding their breath so they don't scream."Larry, don't come for us," she said on the loop. "I realized I can't do this. I can't live in your world. I’ve taken Liam and we’re going somewhere you can't find
MEGAN'S POVThe silence in the room was so heavy I could hear the blood rushing in my ears. It was a dull, rhythmic thrumming that made it impossible to tell how much time had passed. Minutes? Hours? The fluorescent light above me didn't flicker according to a clock; it just hummed, a constant, irritating reminder that I was trapped in a box where the sun didn't reach.I sat with my back against the brick wall, my knees pulled up to my chin. I was trying to breathe slowly, the way I used to when the bakery got too busy and the orders were backing up, but the air here was different. It felt recycled, like it had been sitting in these lungs for years before it got to mine.Larry. Every time I thought his name, a fresh wave of guilt hit me. I’d been so determined to prove I could do it alone. I’d wanted to show him that I didn’t need his security, his money, or his "nicer pens." And now, because of that pride, I was here. I didn’t even know where "here" was.Then I heard it.It star
LARRY'S POVI stood in the center of the motel room, and for the first time in my life, I felt the terrifying weight of being too late.The room was a gut-punch. It was a cramped, miserable square of cheap carpet and peeling wallpaper that smelled of stale cigarettes and industrial cleaner. This is where she had been. While I was sitting in my library surrounded by leather-bound books and high-end security monitors, the woman I loved was huddling in a place that charged by the night and didn't even have a deadbolt that fit the frame."Sir," Marcus said, his voice unusually tight. He was standing by the small, bolted-down dresser. He held up a plastic dinosaur, a bright green triceratops with a scuffed horn.I took it from him. The plastic was cold, but the sight of it made my chest tighten until I could barely breathe. Liam didn't go anywhere without this. He’d had it at the cabin. He’d had it in the nursery. If this was here, they hadn't checked out. They hadn't moved to another
MEGAN'S POVI climbed in and buckled Liam's seatbelt. I was so tired I didn't even look at the driver’s ID card on the dashboard. I just leaned my head back against the sticky vinyl seat and closed my eyes for a second."Mommy, the door is stuck," Liam said, tugging at the handle."It’s just the child lock, bug. It’s for safety."I checked my phone. It was dead. I’d forgotten to charge it at the library, and the black screen felt like a final severing of my ties to the world.The taxi turned, but it didn't go toward the highway. It turned down a side street, then another, moving away from the lights of the commercial district and toward the industrial area near the docks."Excuse me," I said, sitting up. "The highway is back that way."The driver didn't answer. He accelerated, the engine roaring as he sped through a yellow light."Hey! I said you're going the wrong way!" I leaned forward, reaching for the plastic partition.That’s when I noticed it. There was no partition. Th
MEGAN'S POVThe daycare basement felt more like a tomb today. The smell of old juice and bleach hit me the second I opened the door, and I had to swallow back the urge to just turn around and run back to the motel. Liam didn't cry this time, which was almost worse. He just stood there, holding his little dinosaur, looking at me with those wide, searching eyes that asked a thousand questions I wasn't ready to answer."I’ll be back, bug. I promise," I whispered, kissing his forehead. His skin felt cool, and he smelled like the cheap soap from the motel."Don't forget me, Mommy," he said."Never. Not in a million years."I walked out of that church basement and felt the city air hit me like a slap. I had a list. A new list. I’d spent the night circling ads in a newspaper I bought at the gas station, trying to find the "hidden" jobs, the ones that didn't require a glossy resume or a background check that would lead straight back to the Trent legal department.The first four stops we







