Mag-log inKelly's POV
By the time I finished telling her all that happened, Hope's face had gone from deep concern to absolute, blinding fury. "Those absolute monsters," she breathed, her voice shaking with rage. "To threaten you like that over a business loan? On the street in broad daylight?" "They know where I live, Hope," I whispered, the cold reality settling deep into my bones. "They said they'd drag me out of here. I don't know what to do. I have no money, no job, and no time." Hope didn't let me spiral. Instead, she gripped my shoulders, forcing me to look her straight in the eyes. "Listen to me, Kelly. You are safe right now. They gave you two weeks, which means they aren't coming back tonight. We are going to handle this together, okay? You are not alone in this." She stood up firmly, wiping a rogue tear from her own eye, and walked over to the grocery bag. "First, you need to eat. You can't think straight when you're running on pure adrenaline." With quick, efficient movements, she unpacked the bag, setting out soup, bread, and fruit. She opened one of the beer bottles and pressed the cold glass into my hand, forcing me to take small bites until the hollow ache in my stomach finally began to ease. As the warmth of the food settled the worst of my hunger, Hope sat down beside me on the futon, her expression dead serious. "Okay. Let's talk strategy. The landlord gave you three weeks, and the sharks gave you two weeks. Applying for retail jobs online isn't going to save you, Kelly. A paycheck like that won't even cover your past-due rent, let alone thousands in debt." I stared at the bottle in my hand, a heavy weight pressing on my chest. "Then what am I supposed to do? I'm completely out of options." Hope took a slow sip of her drink, as a sudden, glint appearing in her eyes. "Since I know you will rather chew glass than take money from your brother, what you need right now is a high-paying corporate position, or a serious connection with someone who has real financial leverage.” She said. “And you're not going to find them in this dark apartment. Which is why you and I are going to Savágé tonight." I blinked, seriously caught off guard by her train of thought. "What? The exclusive lounge downtown? Hope, did you not hear a single word I said? I was just assaulted. The last thing I want to do is go to a high-end club." "No, Kelly, think about it strategically," Hope countered, leaning in, her tone shifting into pure focus. "Right now, your mind is full of fear, and staying trapped in here staring at nothing is going to paralyze you.” She said, dramatically. “Savágé isn't just a place to dance. Tonight is the city's annual venture gala's after-party. The entire lounge will be packed with high-rolling CEOs, and corporate executives. The kind of people who can clear your debt with pocket change in their suits." "Hope, I can't just walk up to a CEO and ask for money…" I said, shock that she could think that. "No, but you can network. You can look like the brilliant, stunning fashion designer you actually are instead of hiding away like a victim," Hope interrupted firmly, cutting off my protest. "You need to clear the fear out of your head so you can plan your next steps, and you need to put yourself in a room where opportunity actually exists. Also I’ll be paying for the drinks. You just need to dress up, snap yourself out of this panic, and then we will go find a lifeline tonight." I looked up at her, my arguments dying in my lips. She was right. Minimum wages wouldn't save my life in three weeks. And if I stayed here, the panic would drive me insane before the deadline even arrived. I needed to act, I needed to step into a world that actually had the power to pull me out of the dark. A small sigh escaped my lips, and I looked up at my best friend, the fear in my chest slowly hardening into desperate determination. "Okay. Let's go to Savágé." Hope's face broke into a triumphant, radiant smile. "That's my girl. Now, let's go find something in that closet that will make heads turn.” ——————— The door of the cab slammed shut behind us as with a loud thud as we stepped out, cutting off the low hum of the engine and leaving us standing on the wet pavement. I could hear the bass from inside the exclusive club vibrating straight through the concrete and into the soles of my heels, an intimidating pulse that matched the frantic rhythm of my heart. Neon lights from the massive Savágé sign bled into the puddles at my feet, casting fractured streaks of crimson and gold across the wet ground. I tugged at the hem of my dress, my fingers straining against the fabric as the chilly night air hit my bare legs. "Hope, seriously, I can't do this. Wearing this dress was a mistake. It is way too short, way too tight, and I feel like if I take a deep breath or walk too quickly, the entire back is going to split wide open." Hope grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand away from the hem with a firm, exasperated sigh. "Kelly, stop touching it. You've adjusted it three times since we left the apartment." She said, “You look absolutely incredible. That emerald green color makes your skin glow, and the dress hugs your curves in all the right places. You are a fashion designer; you should know better than anyone that this dress was made for your body." She spoke with so much enthusiasm as she tried to convince me. "It was built for a mannequin, Hope, or for someone who actually has a life to celebrate," I muttered, shivering as a sharp gust of wind swept down the block, biting into my exposed shoulders and back. "Right now, I feel like I'm wearing a neon sign that says 'Desperate and Unemployed.'" "You look like a goddess, so start acting like one," Hope countered smoothly, adjusting the collar of her bright pink gown. She reached out and linked her arm firmly through mine, anchoring me to the spot before I could turn back toward the street to hail another cab.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







