016

SHAYLE

I guess I’d been delusional to think I could ever be happy, even for a second before I die.

Life was never fair when it came to me. It’s like it had this personal grudge, like it enjoyed watching me struggle while dangling little bits of joy just out of reach.

I laid on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, my drugs scattered on my nightstand.

What was even the point of taking them when I was still going to die? I rolled over, groaning into my pillow, my hair falling all over my face.

“I’m so damn stupid,” I muttered to myself.

A small laugh escaped my lips, but it sounded hollow. I couldn’t tell if I was trying to laugh or cry anymore.

I didn’t even mind that Kieran was a virgin; that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was, well, getting disvirgined by a virgin? What was the fucking use? It felt ironic and unfair. Couldn’t the universe just throw me one good thing?

I rolled again, sighing louder this time.

“Do I have to find someone else now?” I whispered.

But who? Who would I even find?

I pressed my palm against my chest and felt my heartbeat quicken just at the thought of Kieran.

It wasn’t just a crush anymore.

It was something bigger, something messy and stupid and exciting all at once.

Every time I thought about him, I could feel my pulse go wild. He made me feel alive, which was ironic because I was literally dying.

Maybe that’s why I liked him so much.

But now, all that was left was disappointment. The universe really hated me.

It was like it had written “Shayle Vale” in bold red letters under do not grant happiness.

After the kiss, things got awkward as hell.

I ended up apologizing for what felt like the hundredth time, rambling like an idiot. Kieran, being the calm, unshakable man he was, just smiled faintly and told me not to worry.

He said we should still be friends. That I shouldn’t avoid him or run away whenever I saw him.

I nodded with a fake smile because that’s what you do when someone you like places you in the friend zone gently.

But deep down, I already knew. I wouldn’t be able to face him again. I’d watch him from afar, crushing silently until I die.

How pathetic.

At least I got a tattoo, I thought bitterly.

The phoenix feather and rose looked beautiful on my thigh, but even that small piece of joy couldn’t lift my mood.

Just then, my phone pinged. I groaned, grabbed it lazily, and flipped it over to see who the hell was texting me at this hour because I never ever get texts.

Shitty Boss: xxx address

Of course.

My ever-charming, emotionally constipated boss. The man who thought sending his location by this time of the night was an acceptable form of communication.

I frowned, staring at the message. It was an address. Which meant tomorrow, I was expected to show up at his place like he asked.

I sighed and tossed my phone aside. “Perfect. Just what I needed,” I muttered sarcastically.

I felt like crying again. I hated my life. I hated my job. I hated how unlucky I was. And I hated how even in the middle of dying, I still had to work for an arrogant prick.

“Unluckily for me,” I mumbled, turning to my side, “I might not even make it to four months thanks to Lucien.”

And just like that, sleep finally dragged me under.

---

The next morning felt like dragging myself through mud.

The sunlight slipped through the curtains, far too bright for how shitty I felt.

I stared at my wardrobe for a good minute before opening it, looking at all the pretty new clothes. The vibrant colors mocked me.

“What’s the point?” I whispered. “What’s the fucking point of changing if my life’s still the same miserable mess?”

Still, I picked something simple, a black top tucked into a beige skirt. I didn’t even bother with lipstick. Just brushed my hair, grabbed my bag, and left.

A cab took me to the address Lucien texted, and when it stopped, I thought there had to be a mistake.

Because holy shit.

Lucien’s “house” wasn’t a house—it was a goddamn penthouse.

The place looked like it was plucked straight out of an architecture magazine. Tall glass walls, a sleek modern design, and a private driveway lined with expensive cars that probably cost more than my life.

I stepped out of the cab, staring like a tourist. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered.

I knew Lucien was rich, but not this rich rich.

According to rumors at work, he was the first son of a multi-billionaire couple who lived somewhere fancy; I think Switzerland or France. But apparently, Lucien didn’t want anything to do with their empire. Instead, he came here and built his own company.

There were also rumors about a younger brother that he wasn’t in good terms with.

Standing in front of his penthouse now, I could confirm one thing, the first rumor about his wealth was definitely true.

There were guards outside, tall and serious-looking, and none of them were the usual office security. One of them walked up to me.

“Are you Miss Shayle Vale?”

I nodded.

He gave a curt nod and gestured for me to follow.

As we walked through the gates and into the mansion, I couldn’t help looking around in awe. The interior was insane.

“Damn,” I whispered under my breath. “What would it even feel like to live like this?”

To wake up and not worry about rent, food, or medical bills. To be financially free, even for a day.

I guessed I’d never know.

The guard finally stopped at a long dining table and pointed to a stack of documents.

“Mr. Dorne asked that you go through these and organize them while he gets ready.”

I blinked. “He’s not even ready yet?”

The guard didn’t respond. He just nodded and left.

I sighed, setting my bag down. “Great. He drags me all the way here just to keep me waiting.”

Still, I started working. Page after page, I sorted through contracts and reports, my mind only half-present.

Not long after, a loud shatter echoed from upstairs.

I froze.

Then came a scream.

The guards snapped into motion, rushing up the stairs. My heart started pounding.

What the hell just happened?

I knew I should’ve stayed put, but my curiosity—and fear—got the better of me. What if it was an intruder? What if whoever it was came down and found me alone?

Before I could stop myself, I ran after them.

When I reached the top, the scene that greeted me made my stomach drop.

One guard was already on the phone, shouting something about 911.

A woman in a maid’s uniform stood by the table, panicking, her hands trembling. She looked terrified but not hurt.

Then I saw Lucien.

He was slumped in a chair at the head of the dining table, his eyes red and his skin covered in blotchy red lumps. His face looked swollen, his breathing uneven.

He looked half-awake, half-unconscious.

I knew instantly that it was an allergic reaction.

“What the hell happened?” I yelled, running to him.

The guard looked at me, startled. “The maid used some powdered seaweed! He’s allergic to seafood!”

“Shit,” I hissed, scanning the table. “You idiots shouldn’t just stand there!”

Everyone froze, unsure what to do.

Then Lucien spoke, despite his condition, he could still register what was happening around him.

"leave."

I glanced at him in disbelief. Really?

I shook my head and darted toward the kitchen, ignoring their confused looks and Lucien's order of course. I hated him but I wasn't going to let him die so easily just because the people around him were careless.

I searched the shelves like a madwoman. My hands moved frantically through containers until I found what I was looking for; flour.

Grabbing it, I poured some into a cup, added water, and mixed it fast. My heart was pounding so loud it drowned out every other sound.

When I turned, everyone was watching me like I’d lost my mind.

I didn’t care.

I ran back to Lucien, who was barely conscious now. His lips were trembling, and he looked like he was slipping away.

“Lucien,” I whispered, lifting his head into my arm. His skin was hot and clammy. “I need you to drink this.”

His eyes met mine and I bet he would have scoffed if he had the ability to right now.

"I said get the fuck out."

"If I leave you here, you're going to die! You think I want to be branded as a suspect for your death?"

I didn't wait for his consent.

I held the cup to his mouth and made him drink it, tipping it just enough so the mixture slid down his throat. He coughed weakly but swallowed.

The guard on the phone shouted, “The ambulance is on the way!”

I ignored him, focusing on Lucien. His breathing was shallow, but within minutes, the tension in his face began to ease. The color started to return slowly.

His gaze met mine once more, weak but clear and something flickered in his expression. Confusion maybe but I doubt it was gratitude.

I let out a deep sigh of relief.

“It worked,” I whispered under my breath, my whole body finally relaxing.

I gently set his head back against the chair, stood up, and brushed my hands against my skirt.

Everyone else was still frozen in place, staring like I’d just performed some kind of miracle.

Without saying a word, I turned and walked downstairs, pretending like I hadn’t just saved my shitty boss’s life.

But deep down, my heart was still racing.

Because for once, life had thrown me into chaos and I didn’t completely lose.