CHAPTER 3: A LEAP OF FAITH

Isayanna

The silence in the office was suffocating. I stared at the manila folder on my desk, the edges blurred by the tears I’d been fighting for hours. It was untouched. Five hours of spiraling, of grieving for a life that was falling apart before it even started, and I hadn't moved a single paper.

Grandma didn’t have time for my breakdown. Her heart was failing, and the hospital bills were a mountain I couldn't climb. I was twenty-four, a virgin who got tongue-tied if a man so much as looked at me, and now I was staring down the barrel of a choice that felt like a deal with the devil.

Either I sold myself to my boss for a year, or I let George turn me into his "sidekick" for life. George, with his wandering hands and oily smile.

The intercom buzzed, a sharp, violent sound that made me jump so hard my knee cracked against the desk. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. This was it. Jaydon was going to fire me. He’d finally realized his assistant was a useless, sobbing mess.

I pressed the button with a shaking finger. "H-hello, sir?"

The line crackled. I could almost feel his heat through the speaker, that intense, dark energy that always made the air in the room feel thin. For two weeks after I started, I’d had a crush on him. It was impossible not to. He was all sharp edges and heavy muscle, with eyes that looked like they’d seen things that would keep me awake at night. Then he started yelling, and the crush died a quick, painful death.

"You can head home," he said.

The words were cold. Final. 

"Wait, what?!" I blurted out. My stomach did a sickening flip. If he sent me home now, I wouldn’t be coming back. No job meant no surgery. No surgery meant losing the only person I had left. "Sir, please, I can explain the file, I just—"

"Did you hear what I just said?" His voice snapped through the speaker, vibrating with an irritation that made me flinch. "I told you to clock out and head home."

He said it slow, like he was talking to a child. I could picture him behind that massive mahogany desk, his jaw tight, his dark hair a mess from running his hands through it. He was done with me.

"Please don't fire me," I whispered, the words slipping out before I could catch them. "I’ll stay late. I’ll finish everything. Just don't—"

"Isayanna."

Just my name. It sounded heavy when he said it, his deep voice rolling over the syllables. 

"I'm not firing you," Jaydon said, though he sounded like he wanted to. "Go home. Get some sleep. You look like hell."

The line went dead.

I sat there, trembling, my hand still hovering over the intercom. He wasn't firing me, but he’d seen me. He’d seen the red eyes and the shaking hands. He knew I was weak. 

Jaydon never did vague. He was a hammer, and the rest of the world was a nail. The dial tone hissed in my ear, cold and final. I stared at the intercom like it might grow teeth and bite me. 

Was I fired? Was this a suspension? My head throbbed, a dull ache pulsing behind my eyes. I sat back, the air in the small office feeling too thin to breathe. I was ready to beg for my job, and he just cut me loose for the day. 

My phone vibrated on the desk, the harsh buzz making me flinch. I grabbed it, expecting a follow-up execution from Jaydon. It was Julie.

Julie: Hey! I’m heading to your place now. You off yet?

Her voice was a sharp contrast to the silence in my head. High energy. Productive. Everything I wasn't right now. I leaned into the phone, my voice sounding like it belonged to someone else.

Isayanna: I’m on my way.

I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to explain why my eyes were puffy or why my hands wouldn't stop shaking. More importantly, I couldn't let Grandma see me like this. She was already fighting for every breath. Seeing me break would kill her faster than the heart condition.

I reached for my laptop to shut it down, but the screen caught my eye. A profile on Jaydon. I’d been staring at it earlier, trying to understand the man who signed my checks. 

The photo was a gut punch. He was lean, dressed in a suit that probably cost more than my apartment. His eyes were dark, intense, and focused. Even in a still image, he looked like he was about to tear someone apart. 

I scrolled. I knew he was successful, but the numbers at the bottom of the article made my stomach drop. He wasn't just wealthy. He was a titan. Trillions. The kind of money that didn't just buy houses, it bought countries. 

And he wanted to buy me for a year. 

The office suddenly felt like a cage. I stood up so fast my chair skidded back, the metal legs screeching against the floor. I needed to move. I needed Julie to tell me I was dreaming or that I was about to make the smartest mistake of my life. 

I grabbed my bag, my fingers fumbling with the strap. Every step toward the exit felt heavier than the last. The marble floors, the glass walls, the scent of expensive cologne that seemed to cling to the vents. It all felt like his. 

I pushed through the heavy glass doors of the lobby, the humid air hitting me like a physical blow. One year. Half a million dollars. Grandma's life. 

I wasn't just walking to my car. I was walking off a cliff. I just didn't know if I was going to fly or hit the ground.