PROOF TO RUIN: 10 STEPS TO KILL A BILLIONAIRE

‎"We need the next payment by Friday, Miss Hall. Without it, we'll have to discuss alternative arrangements for your mother's care."

 

‎The nurse said it like she was reading from a script. Polite. Practiced. Like she hadn't just told me my mother could be moved out of the ICU over money.

 

‎I didn't look up from the clipboard. "Define alternative arrangements."

 

‎A pause. "There's a general ward with shared facilities. It's not ideal for her condition, but—"

 

‎"I heard you."

 

‎I handed the clipboard back, turned, and walked to the window at the end of the corridor. Below, the city carried on. All of it moving without care for the fact that my mother was lying forty feet behind me with tubes in her arms and a number on a bill I couldn't pay.

 

‎Forty-three thousand pounds still outstanding. Plus Friday's deposit.

 

‎I pulled out my phone. Three missed calls from a number I didn't recognize, two from Jo who I'd been avoiding since I got back into London, and one voicemail from the landlord of my old apartment in Manchester confirming he'd already re-let it.

 

‎So that was gone too.

 

‎I called the unknown number back.

 

‎It rang twice.‎

 

‎"Miss Hall." A woman's voice. "I'm calling on behalf of Moore Holdings. We saw your application through ze Vanguard recruiter platform. We'd like to offer you ze position of Executive Operations Associate, effective Monday."

 

‎I pressed the phone harder against my ear. "That was fast. I submitted that application three days ago."

 

‎"Your credentials are strong. The position comes with an immediate contract and a signing advance of two 'undred thousand pounds, disbursed within forty-eight hours of signing."

 

‎My grip on the phone tightened.

 

‎Two hundred thousand.

 

‎"Where do I sign?"

 

‎~*~

 

‎The HR office was on the fourteenth floor of a building that smelled like money. Clean lines. Quiet air conditioning. Staff who didn't bother to make eye contact with visitors.

 

‎The woman who processed my contract was named Estelle. She had reading glasses on a beaded chain and spoke only when necessary, which I respected.

 

‎"You'll report directly to ze executive suite," she said, sliding the contract across the desk. " 'Ze contract is a standard NDA, non-compete clause active for six months post-termination, and you'll be required on-site five days a week. Any questions, madame?"

 

‎I was already reading. My eyes moved fast, scanning clauses, looking for traps. Nothing jumped out. Standard corporate language. The advance was real, confirmed in clause four, paragraph two.

 

‎I signed.

 

‎"Welcome to Moore 'Oldings." Estelle retrieved the contract, clicked her pen, and smiled. "You'll receive your onboarding package tonight. First day ees Monday, nine sharp"

 

‎I stood, picked up my bag, and walked back to the elevator.

 

‎I didn't feel relief. I was doing the math. Two hundred thousand would cover Friday's deposit, clear the outstanding balance, and leave me with enough to hold things together for six more weeks if I was careful.

 

‎Six weeks to figure out the rest.

 

‎The elevator doors opened.

 

‎I stepped in, pressed the lobby button, and checked my phone. Jo had called again.

 

‎The doors were closing when a hand caught them.

 

‎He stepped in.

 

‎And the floor dropped out from under me.

 

‎He was taller than I remembered, or maybe I'd just shrunk that memory down to something manageable over the years. White suit, no tie, an effortless precision that only comes from never having to think about money. He was looking at his phone when he entered. He didn't look up immediately.

 

‎I stared at the doors.

 

‎Breathe, Katherine.

 

‎"Twenty-second floor," he said to no one, reaching past me to press the button.

 

‎His hand was close enough that I could have moved an inch and touched his sleeve.

 

‎I didn't move.

 

‎The elevator began to rise. I kept my eyes forward. My reflection in the brushed steel doors looked back at me, controlled, unreadable. Good.

 

‎He glanced sideways. Then the pause came.

 

‎"Katherine Hall."

 

‎I turned my head. Looked at him the way I'd practiced in a hundred hypothetical versions of this moment. Like he was nothing more than a stranger who happened to know my name.

 

‎"Heath."

 

‎He studied my face. "You work here?" he asked.

 

‎"As of Monday."

 

‎His eyes shifted. At that moment, the elevator reached the lobby. and the doors opened

 

‎I walked out first. I was three steps across the marble floor when his voice followed me.

 

‎"Kattie."

 

‎I stopped but didn't turn.

 

‎"You should read clause seventeen before considering the job" he paused "You have till Friday"

 

‎I walked out of the building and didn't stop until I reached the car park. Then I stood there, my back against the wall, and pulled the copy of my contract from my bag with hands that I refused to let shake.

 

‎Clause seventeen.

 

‎The Executive Operations Associate will report exclusively to the Chief Executive Officer.

 

‎I looked up at the building.

 

‎Twenty-second floor. His floor.

 

‎I had just signed a contract to work directly under Heath Moore.

 

‎And I had forty-eight hours before the advance hit my account.

 

‎The kind of money my mother needed to stay alive.

 

‎