Mag-log inThe G****e map showed a few minutes before we arrived at the Langfords'.
I sat in the back seat, my old suitcase stood beside me, a smaller one on my lap. For once, the noise in my head felt quiet, the Job had brought in so much peace. I stared out the window and let a small smile creep onto my face. The kind I hadn’t felt in months. This was it.. a new job. Good money. A proper place to live in. And most importantly, hope for Mia. I’d called Aunt Linda this morning before leaving Sara’s apartment. Her voice had cracked when I told her the news. “You got it? Really, Sammy?” “Yes, Auntie. Live-in position. Full salary from day one. I’ll send money as soon as I get paid.” “Mia’s gonna be well again. She’s gonna be okay.” She'd started crying then, soft happy tears. Aunt Linda is one happy and strong woman I know, the only family Mia and I have. I could still hear Mia’s weak little voice from last week’s video call. “Sammy, I want to run again?” Eight years old and fighting harder than anyone I knew. I had to make them proud. I had to keep her alive, my parents won't be happy if I don't fight, or so I told myself. My fingers found the gold engagement ring on my right hand. I had slid it back on when I picked it from one of my bags earlier today.. Marcus’s ring. The only expensive thing I owned. Diamonds glinted around the band, catching every light. I had made up my mind to sell it off, for Mia's surgery. I twisted it slowly, remembering the night he slid it on my finger. One day before he left for his “business trip.” He had dragged me to the rooftop, a candlelit dinner waited, my lips parted in shock. He’d gotten down on one knee, eyes shining. “Marry me when I get back, Sam. This ring is my promise. I’ll always come back to you.” His green eyes firm with so much conviction. I’d cried. Believed every word. Then the calls got shorter. His voice grew colder. Irritated sighs when I asked simple questions. Until one day, nothing. Three months of silence. Enough. My throat tightened. I swallowed a hard lump. I tapped on my phone, opened the gallery, and started deleting. Every picture of us, the one we took at the beach, the Christmas we spent at his mom's, his arm around my waist at parties. Gone. Deleted from I*******m. Deleted from F******k. Deleted from everywhere. One by one, they vanished. I paused on the last photo. Mia and I last summer, arms tight around each other, both laughing at the camera. Her little face pressed to mine, eyes bright even though she was already getting sick then. I kept that one. The taxi slowed. “We’re here, miss.” I looked up and my breath caught. The Langford penthouse stood before me, daring. It was a palace. I felt tiny standing around it. I squished some notes into the driver's hand, grabbed my bags, and moved past the low iron gate that also formed a fence around the entire building. My suitcase wheels, the only available sound to my ears. Relief washed over me. This was safety. I get to live in a clean environment, an environment that feels alive. The environment already whispered peace to my ears. I stopped at the massive wooden door. Dark oak, carved with fancy patterns, and pressed the doorbell. A deep chime echoed inside, my eyes still darting around the entire space, it was much for just a glance after all. I smoothed my hair, straightened my simple blouse, and waited. Heart beating a little fast, but excited fast. The door swung open. And my world stopped. Marcus stood there. In my face! Bare chest. Low-slung gray boxers hugging his hips. The clear outline of his cock pressed against the fabric, like it would tear it any moment. Beads of water still clung to his shoulders like he’d just stepped out of the shower. His dark hair was messy, damp. That same lazy smile started to form on his lips. Then his eyes met mine. The smile vanished like he had seen a ghost. My stomach dropped to the ground. I blinked hard. Rubbed my eyes with two fingers. Looked again. Still him. Still Marcus. Here. In my new boss’s house! Half-naked, I had never seen him in such a brief, not this tight, this one carved out the tip of his dick, the type that’s meant for gigolos. “S-Sam?” His voice low, shock all over his face. My mouth opened. I wanted to scream out his name. I wanted to ask if we were in Texas. But nothing came out. That confirmed it was actually him, My veins thumping against my skin. My suitcase handle slipped from my fingers. Every promise. Every tear. Every night I waited for a call that never came. It all slammed back into me at once. “What… what are you doing here?” He stretched his arm like he wanted to touch my arm, then stopped himself. I found my voice. It came out small and sharp. “I work here.” I found my voice. It came out small and sharp, my eyes fixed on him, at his bare body. His eyes grew darker. Real panic flashed across his face. “No. That’s not—you can’t—” “I’m Victoria Langford’s new personal assistant.” My words shook, but I forced them out. “Live-in. Starting today.” He went pale. I was the last person he expected to see around, I didn't belong in that vicinity after all. I could hear soft footsteps gliding on marble floors. A woman’s voice called from inside, light and cheerful. “Babe? Who’s at the door?” Marcus flinched like he’d been slapped. I stared at him, chest heaving, his nipples still hard like I last remembered, but that doesn't matter right now. He was here. With her. Living here. My boss’s boyfriend! A live-in boyfriend! The man who’d promised to marry me, who said he was embarking on a business trip? The man who’d ghosted me. The man whose ring I was about to sell to save my sister’s life. Everything I’d deleted a few minutes ago came rushing back. Only now it felt like a cruel joke. Marcus stepped forward, voice low and urgent. “Sam, listen—this isn’t what—” “Don’t.” I cut him off, voice hard now. “Don’t you dare.” My hands clenched into fists. The footsteps got closer, Victoria Langford stood before me, her skin shone enough to blind me. She threw a hand over his shoulders. Over my man’s shoulder! No, over my ex's shoulder! I swallowed a lump, then spread my lips in a convincing smile. I grabbed my suitcase handle again, knuckles white around it. Whatever came next, I wasn’t running. I just have to choose between my man and this Job!I woke up slowly, eyelids heavy and a little too painful. The first thing I felt was the ache in my head, a dull, steady pounding that matched my heartbeat. The hospital bed creaked softly under me as I tried to shift. My throat felt like sandpaper, dry and tight. I swallowed, but it only made it worse. My eyes burned when I finally managed to open them wider. The room was quiet except for the soft beep of the monitor beside the bed and the faint hum of the air conditioner. The room was empty. Well, except for me lying on the bed. I remembered vividly everything that had landed me here. My throat tightened, the dream I had just woken up from still fresh in my mind. It was Mia, Mia and me in our little happy world. I lay there for a moment, staring at the white ceiling tiles. Names slipped from my lips in a hoarse whisper.“Mia…” My voice cracked. I had missed that little girl. I had no idea what my life was going to become the day I stepped foot into the Langfords' penthouse. It h
My fingers twisted the edge of the couch, grabbing it tighter as my breathing raced. The look on Sara’s face got me all worked up, it didn't look like the call was going through, and for unknown reasons I was worried. Sara paced in front of me, phone pressed to her ear, pulling the hem of her blouse lightly like she was getting worked up too. She tried Alex’s number again, for the fifth time.The line rang once, twice, then clicked straight to voicemail. The same robotic voice filled the room for a second before Sara ended the call with a frustrated tap, then lowered herself into the couch right beside me.“Still not connecting,” she said softly. Her eyebrows pulled together, worry sat deep in her eyes as she darted me a glance.I nodded, but my chest felt tighter. I tilted sideways on the couch, shifting my weight, trying to find a position that didn’t make my heart feel like it was trying to punch its way out. Why did this bother me so much? Alex was just… Alex. Or maybe I tried
I stood on Lucy’s porch, finally ready to go, the morning sun warm on my back. Lucy held my hands, like she had known me for long, or maybe an old time friend. Such a sweet woman! Being with her for just a short time left me wondering what men really wanted. That woman was human, kind in all way, fun and lively. At some point I had wanted to ask what went wrong in her marriage. But I had restrained, I had only known her for two nights.The cab waited at the curb, engine humming softly, the driver tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Lucy pulled me into one last hug, her arms wrapping around me tightly, the kind of hug that felt like home. I held on a little longer than I should have, my cheek pressed against her shoulder. I wished I had more than just a warm hug to offer her, but I was sure not to forget her in a hurry. She had been more than a friend these past two days. She had been family when I had none close by, giving me a roof when my mind was too scattered to even t
Mr. Richard paced the living room, his leather shoes clicking sharply against the floor with every step. He dragged on his tie, loosening it a bit.The sound of his fingers snapping in anger echoed off the high ceilings and bounced back at him like an accusation. His eyebrows were drawn tight, deep lines carved between them. He lifted the phone to his ear again, for the umpteenth time in a minute, his thumb pressing hard on the redial button. The screen lit up his face in the dim evening light.The line rang once, and then twice before Alex picked up.Mr. Richard’s voice exploded through the speaker, raw and loud. Not holding back any ounce of the emotion surging through him. “What the hell is going on, Detective Thorne? First, you can’t find my daughter. Then you have nothing on Elma. And now Samantha is missing too? How many more people do I have to lose before you do your damn job?” He blurted into the gadget in his hand, lips trembling.He stopped pacing near the minibar. His fr
I hung the picture back in its place. Then moved slowly through the house. Pushed the door to the kitchen, old wooden table still stood in the center, chairs pushed in neatly. I ran my hand over the surface. Dust came away on my fingers. I wiped it on the dress Lucy had given me.Then I took the narrow wooden stairs up to the second floor. Each step creaked under my weight, the sound brought back memories of sneaking down at night for water when I couldn’t sleep.My old room was first. The door stuck a little when I pushed it open. Inside, the small bed was still made, covers faded from years of sun. On the wall near the window were the inscriptions I had scratched there as a teenager, my name, Mia’s name, silly hearts and stars. A small laugh, half cry, escaped my throat.A few of my old clothes still hung in the wardrobe. I opened it. The fabric smelled musty. My hands came away covered in fine gray dust when I touched the hangers. I closed the door again.Then I walked to what used
I stood on the cracked sidewalk in front of the old house, the place where I grew up. The afternoon sun beat down on the faded blue paint, making the wooden porch look even more tired than I remembered. The yard was overgrown with weeds that brushed against my ankles. My heart felt heavy in my chest as I stared at the rusted padlock on the front door.Lucy had helped call a couple of men from the street. They worked with hammers and crowbars, metal clanging against metal. Each strike sent dust and small rust flakes flying into the air. I watched them, arms wrapped around myself above my protruding stomach, the breeze tugging at my hair. I exhaled a couple of times heavily while fighting the memories flooding my mind.lQuiet dinners at the small wooden table inside. Mom dishing out rice and vegetables, three-year-old Mia giggling at something silly I said. Dad’s chair empty after he passed, but Mom still setting a place for him out of habit. The way the three of us would sit togethe
Marcus strode back into the room, small wooden tray resting on both palms, nudging the door open easily with his elbow. Steam curled up from the coffee mug, reaching my nostrils from the door, the exact way I used to make it when we were together.My eyes caressed over him, wondering how he manage
I strode across the foyer, heels clicking softly yet steadily, head tilted slightly to the side in exasperation, a lazy yawn left my throat. Flipping the heavy envelope over to the hand where my bag rested, I managed to tuck my hair perfectly, catching my shadowy image on the floor-to-ceiling windo
Cool air hit my eyes as I stepped out of the mansion gates. I tilted my left hand a little bit, it was already past six. The sun was beginning to disappear.I texted Sara a few minutes after I got into the room. Our favorite coffee spot would be a good place for us, calm, suitable, with the smell o
The tiny clock on the nightstand chimed seven, I slapped the snooze button, the sound died instantly. I casually closed the book staring in my face, the only thing that had kept me sane as time went by, I had picked it from one of the shelves, something about ‘Men and bitches’.Eyes puckered in fr







