CHAPTER FIVE

Mira

He came with ill luck. I grunted, frustration bubbling as my design sketches fell apart again. Then there was Ken—of course it was him. He had come here to distract me.

I was surprised to see him. He lingered by the door, careful, cautious—as if treading on eggshells. I kept my head bent, flipping through project notes, but from the corner of my eye I watched him. Superiority clung to him like cologne, that effortless composure he wore even when uncertain.

He thought he could rattle me. Thought his little games might soften me. He was mistaken. My heart was steel, impenetrable. Whatever he took me for, I would not dance to his tune.

I gathered the documents in front of me and headed to Clara’s office. She needed to sign them as Director of Operations. Clara was predictable; she would sign without question, as she always did. Sometimes I wondered if she even read my work or if she simply trusted my competence. Or maybe she lacked the skill to vet it.

At her door, I stopped. Her voice carried through in a sharp burst.

“I can’t. I’ve done too much to be sidelined here.”

I leaned closer. No one was in the hallway—it was safe to listen.

“I deserve this, Bernard—who else?” A pause. Then her hissed curse: “Bitch.”

Silence followed. After fifteen seconds with no sound, I knocked.

“Come in,” came her sweet, honeyed voice, as if the fury I’d heard seconds ago never existed.

I stepped in and placed the papers on her desk.

“I brought the documents.”

“Are they properly tabled?” she asked lightly, with a smile.

I kept my scoff buried and answered politely. She gestured for me to sit.

“Mira, you’re doing a great job. One of the pillars here. I must applaud you.”

I studied her, waiting. This sudden warmth wasn’t genuine—it was a prelude.

“You know, the whole Voughan training has been troubling us all…”

“Not me,” I cut in.

Her composure cracked briefly before she smoothed it over. “Oh… that’s fine. Still, only two people will be chosen. The rest of us must stay behind, keep the company strong.”

There it was—the slip. The phone call made sense now. Clara wanted that spot.

“You should be determined to make Gigs a great name,” she continued, tapping her long red nails on the desk.

I smiled thinly. So Voughan didn’t need people like me.

“I’ll call you when I’m finished with these,” she said, still smiling.

I gave a curt nod and left her office, my suspicions confirmed.

---

The day passed quickly, and soon I was home. The silence greeted me—comforting in its own way. Laura hadn’t called, which only deepened my suspicion she was wrapped up with the man from her office. She knew all I’d endured in the hands of men; she should have been more cautious. Yet here she was, letting herself get swept up. I would drag the truth out of her when we met.

After a warm shower, I stepped onto the mat, towel wrapped around me. The house was still, quieter than usual. Months ago, weekends like this meant bars, yacht parties, or some glamorous distraction. Now, the quiet felt almost like peace. I smiled at the thought: better solitude with a whole heart than a crowded life that ends in pain.

Still, boredom lingered. Maybe I’d treat myself to dinner at one of the high-end restaurants. Or perhaps slip into the comfort of my favorite place—the local library.

My thoughts wandered to my family. On the surface, we looked intact, but underneath, the bonds were frayed. Elizabeth had brought her fiancé home, and no one thought to tell me. Not even my mother. I only found out when my brother let it slip in a text.

It stung. I tried to imagine they’d simply forgotten, that they would call any minute with an apology. But deep down, I knew better.

I’ve always been the rebellious one. I left home at sixteen, moved in with Laura at seventeen, and started living independently by eighteen. They never forgave me for it. Their bond with my younger siblings only grew tighter, while mine unraveled.

I hadn’t even told Laura about Lizzy’s engagement. It sat heavy on my chest. I remembered the first time I told my mother about a relationship, how I might settle with him if things worked out. Two days later, after no doubt conferring with my father, she told me I was too young for marriage. I was twenty. Elizabeth is twenty-one now, and suddenly she is perfect for it. The irony is bitter.

Still, bitterness wasn’t the deepest wound. Fear was. I knew the deceptive nature of men too well. Elizabeth was tender, fragile even. She didn’t deserve the heartbreak I had endured. I needed to call her. But as always, I hesitated, procrastinating.

---

I slept soundly that night and woke tangled in my sheets. Sunlight spilled gently through the half-open curtains, warming my face. For a while, I simply lay still, savoring the rare quiet of a Saturday morning.

Back then, weekends meant Henry—lavish dates, high-end escapes. Now, they meant mornings like this. Strange, yes, but soothing.

Laura still hadn’t called. Silly girl. She was letting herself fall headfirst for a man she barely knew, ignoring all the what-ifs.

I rose, stretching my stiff muscles, and went to the kitchen for breakfast. A plan was already forming in my head. Life couldn’t be only work. I deserved to enjoy my youth.

I laid out my outfit on the dresser: a short sparkling red dress, gold heels, gold purse, gold jewelry. A statement, but a reminder too—that I was alive, and I could still glow.

Wrapped in my towel, I began drying my hair when my phone rang. The number was unfamiliar, just a string of digits. Probably a client.

“Hello, good morning,” I said warmly. Silence.

“Hello?” I tried again. Dead line. The call disconnected, leaving a faint unease in its wake. I shrugged it off and returned to my routine.

As I checked the time, Laura’s name flashed on the screen.

“Hi, darling,” she purred.

I wasn’t happy she’d kept me in the dark about this new relationship, but hearing her voice softened me.

“Thought you wouldn’t call.”

“Hope you aren’t sulking.”

“You can put it that way.”

“I’m sorry. Baxter has been full of surprises… good ones.”

“Wow. He really got you, in just a week.”

“Sometimes love happens that way.”

“Love? You mean it?”

“Yes, baby.”

She thought I was surprised and happy. But really, I was stunned—by her willingness to hand her heart over so quickly.

We talked for a long time, mostly about him. Baxter this, Baxter that. He filled her thoughts, her sentences. She promised to spend next weekend with me. This one belonged to him.

By the time I ended the call, the energy I’d felt earlier had drained. My enthusiasm to go out dimmed, but I forced myself onward. I had to. For me.