LOGINKelly's POV
The afternoon air outside was biting and cold as I walked down the concrete steps of the apartment building and hit the sidewalk. I kept my head down trying to avoid my landlord, as I walked toward the small bodega at the corner of the block just to grab a sandwich and some coffee. I didn't even make it past the entrance of the alleyway. Suddenly, an iron grip clamped down on my upper arm, taking me off the sidewalk and dragging me backward into the shadows of the alley. I opened my mouth to scream, but a large, rough hand slapped firmly over my face, cutting off my air. "Shut your mouth if you want to keep breathing," a low, gravelly voice hissed right against my ear. I was shoved hard against the brick wall, the rough stone scraping right through my jacket. Two large men in heavy dark coats stepped forward, blocking my view of the street. The one who had grabbed me had a jagged scar running down his jawline, and his eyes held a cruel, unblinking focus. "You've been dodging our calls, Kelly," the scarred man said, pulling a switchblade from his pocket. The blade snapped open with a terrifying click that made me jump in fear, the polished steel catching the dim light of the alley. He stepped closer, resting the cold blade right against my throat. "The people who funded your little fashion failure want their money back." "I... I don't have it yet," I choked out, my voice trembling violently as the cold metal pressed into my skin. "The business went under, I lost everything…" "We don't care about your excuses," the second man snapped, stepping forward and grabbing me tightly by the hair, forcing my head back. "You have exactly two weeks to clear the entire debt. Not a penny less." The scarred man leaned in so close I could smell the stale tobacco on his breath. He tapped the point of the knife right against my collarbone. "If that money isn't in our hands in two weeks, we're coming back to take it out of you one way or the other. We'll drag you out of that second-floor shack, throw you in the back of a van, and sell your parts to pay off what you owe. Do you understand me?" Tears of pure terror spilled down my eyes as I nodded frantically against his grip. "Yes. Yes, I understand." "Good." He snapped the knife shut and shoved me hard into the gravel floor of the alley. "Two weeks, Kelly. Don't make us come looking for you." They turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowded sidewalk like ghosts. I sat on the freezing ground, my hands shaking so badly I could barely breathe, their warning echoing over and over in my head. I was completely cornered, isolated, and I was standing at an absolute dead end. My legs felt like lead as I stumbled out of the alleyway to find my way back home, my breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. I didn't look back because I couldn't. The pressure of the cold blade was still burning against my throat, and the scarred man's parting words echoed like a death sentence in my ears. I kept my head down, my hands shoved deep into my jacket pockets to hide how violently they were shaking. The busy city sidewalk around me felt completely surreal. People were walking their dogs, chatting, and laughing, entirely oblivious to the fact that I had just been dragged into the shadows and threatened with my life. I gave up on the idea of getting food; the mere thought of eating made my stomach churn with nausea. All I wanted, all I desperately needed, was the safety of my apartment. I practically bolted up the concrete steps of the entrance, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Kelly? Hey, Kel!" I flinched, my head snapping up as I reached the glass doors of the lobby. Hope stood there, a sudden burst of vibrant color against the faded gray walls. She was wearing a bright red jumper and white trousers, her blonde hair catching the dim light, as she balanced a heavy paper bag of groceries in one arm and a six-pack of beer in the other. The moment her eyes landed on me, her smile completely vanished. She dropped the six-pack onto a nearby bench with a loud clatter and rushed toward me, her eyes scanning my pale face. "Kel, what the hell happened? You look like you've seen a ghost. You're white as a sheet." "Inside," I choked out, my voice barely a whisper as I grabbed her free arm, my fingers digging into her sleeve. "Please, Hope. Let's just go inside. Let's get upstairs." Alarm flared in her expression, but she didn't ask another question. She nodded quickly, gripping my arm tightly to steady me as we hurried up the stairs to the second floor. My hands shook so badly I couldn't even get the key into the slot, so Hope took them from my fingers, unlocked the door, and pushed me inside. The moment the door slammed shut behind us, I sank onto the edge of the futon, burying my face in my hands. The tight coil of terror in my chest finally snapped, and I started to feel the panic attack coming. Hope dropped the grocery bag onto the counter, not even caring as a box of pasta fell out. She rushed over and dropped to her knees right in front of me, grabbing my wrists and pulling my hands away from my face. "Kelly, look at me, and take a deep breath. Then, you can go ahead and tell me right now what happened." The words tumbled out of me in a desperate rush. I told her everything. I told her about how Mr. Miller cut off the water and gave me a three week eviction deadline. And then, with my voice cracking completely, I told her about the two men who had cornered me in the alley just five minutes ago, the switchblade at my throat, and the terrifying two-week deadline to pay off the failed business debt.Michael's POV By the time the building emptied out at 5pm, I had been staring at the same file for ten minutes without reading a single sentence.The lights in my office were dimmed automatically during late hours, casting everything in a muted glow that usually helped me focus, but tonight, it did nothing. My tie felt too tight against my throat, my collar stiff in a way that made me aware of every breath I took. I should have taken it off an hour ago but I didn’t, because I wanted to appear professional in all the meetings I had.I told myself it was just another late night. I’d had hundreds of them over the years. Nights where work followed me home, where sleep was optional and discipline carried me through. Today should have been no different, but it was.I heard footsteps before I registered the sound of knocking on my office door. It was soft and controlled, I thought I was the only one remaining in the building, that everyone else had left for the day.“Come in,” I said, my
Kelly's POVThe park smelled like cut grass and sunscreen, the kind of late-afternoon air that made the city feel softer than it really was. I spread the blanket out under a wide oak tree, while Hope rummaged through the picnic basket like she was preparing for a small famine instead of a casual hangout.“You brought three kinds of hummus?” I asked, watching her line them up with exaggerated care.“Different moods require different textures, Kelly,” she replied without looking up. “Also, have you forgotten that Tessa stress-eats?”“Oh! That's true. You know it's been a really long time, so…” I said, as I thought about our friend who we met at college on orientation day, and from then on, the three of us had been thick as thieves. Until Tessa moved to Los Angeles with her college boyfriend five years ago and they got engaged three years later.“I was shocked when she told us she was back in Seattle. Do you think something happened? I asked her."I really don't know, that is while I p
Michael's POV I got to Owen’s penthouse a few minutes early, an action I knew he would claim as a personal insult to him. The elevator opens into his living room, and the place was already bright and loud, like it’s been waiting for an audience. Music hums from hidden speakers, and floor-to-ceiling windows show the city spread out in gold and steel.Owen appeared from the kitchen with two wine glasses in one hand and a dish towel over his shoulder, as if he’s been doing actual work. His grin is wide and unearned.“You’re early, Why?” he says. “Are you sick? Blink twice if you need medical attention.”“Try again,” I answered, setting my coat on the coat closet, at the entrance of his living room. “Some of us can manage time like functioning adults.”Scott steps out behind him, sleeves rolled to the elbow, looking responsible as always, and he carries a tray of appetizers Owen clearly did not help prepare.“Don’t mind his sorry ass, Mike. He’s been in here threatening the stove,” Sco
Kelly's POV I didn’t expect the day to start with me in Michael's car and him sitting silently beside me on the way to a meeting. I expected him to be a bit talkative and asked questions about the documents and files I prepared for the meeting, which was what he normally does. But today he felt locked up in a way that told me he wasn't in the mood to be messed with. His hand rested against his leg, fingers drumming now and then, the only sign that the calm expression on his face wasn’t revealing the whole picture.The location for the meeting came into view quickly, and it was ANTONIO’S. An expensive restaurant in a tall building of dark glass and steel, its entrance framed by deep green awnings. It looked even more expensive up close as the car came to a stop in front of it. When we stepped out, a valet rushed forward, giving Michael a half-bow that made me instantly self conscious. Michael always drew that kind of respectful and commanding attention without even trying. But
Michael’s POV Ryder texted me around the time I left work, which was at five in the evening. He was asking if I was “alive, functional, and wanted to meet for a drink.” I ignored the message and refused to answer, but by eight, I was restless and bored in my penthouse; there was nothing to do, and I didn't want to be alone at the moment. So I finally sent him a short reply, grabbed my jacket, and called my driver. It wasn’t just about wanting company, it was also because I wanted my thoughts to shut the hell up for one night. The driver dropped me in front of a high-end lounge downtown, the kind of place with tinted windows, warm gold lighting, and music low enough that people with money could pretend they were relaxed. Ryder was leaning against the entrance rail, hands in his pockets, looking like he had just come from a gym session, instead of spending a day in his office when I walked in. He spotted me immediately, and he didn't waste time to insult me “There he is,” he
Kelly's POV I got to the office earlier than usual that morning, because I didn’t want to sit in my apartment overthinking the week ahead.The office floor was quiet, the lights were low and there was no chatter. There was no coffee machine screaming for survival and I liked it that way, because I needed the silence, as I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone.I’d just set my bag down and turned on my desk lamp when I felt him walk in, before I saw him. Because he had that quiet shift in the air, the kind of presence that didn’t need sound.Michael walked in, and he stopped just inside the doorway like he hadn’t expected to see me there that early. For a second, neither of us moved. We didn’t smile nor did we greet one another, we just looked at each other.And then he crossed the room and slid a folder onto my desk.“I need these handled today,” he said.I nodded. “I’ll start right away.”But he continued standing there, which was a strange act.He didn’t move, didn’t speak. Inste







