I AGREE

CALI

“I agree,” I said, my voice weak, almost trembling. Tears threatened to spill, but I forced them back. I couldn’t cry in front of an animal like you, I thought bitterly, anger mingling with desperation

“Okay. I’ll send the money into your account, and we’ll talk later,” he said nonchalantly, as if it were nothing, like my brother’s life depended on a casual decision.

I stormed out, my heart racing, heading straight to my office. Each step felt heavy, weighed down by fear, exhaustion, and the knowledge that I had just surrendered a piece of my dignity.

At the door, I ran into the so called PA. Her eyes narrowed, and I could tell she had been trying to eavesdrop, though she clearly hadn’t succeeded. She blocked my path, her posture smug, like she enjoyed having power over someone else’s life. I didn’t have time for her theatrics. I pushed past her firmly, running into my office and slamming the door behind me. The sound reverberated in the quiet room, a small release of the tension coiling in my chest.

I cried like I never had before, tears spilling freely down my cheeks. But I had to do this for my brother. I couldn’t let him die over some foolish dignity my boss would probably enjoy preserving. I wiped my tears, trying to console myself, but they kept falling anyway, stubborn and relentless, much like my fear and anger.

Then my phone beeped. My breath caught in my throat.

$500,000 had been sent by my boss.

Is this guy serious? I thought bitterly, clutching my chest. You couldn’t lend me $200,000, but now you can suddenly send $500,000? I hissed in frustration, anger and disbelief mixing in a bitter cocktail that left my stomach churning.

I immediately sent $120,000 to the hospital account and called the doctor. She assured me they would begin the surgery immediately. Relief washed over me, mingled with exhaustion.

Next, I sent $80,000 to my landlord to cover the house rent. I sighed heavily. There was no turning back now I was already in too deep. Life could be cruel, I reflected bitterly. First my parents’ death, and now this.

My mind had suddenly gone to Auntie Rita. I wondered how she was managing my parents’ property after forcibly taking it from us, bribing a lawyer to alter the will in her favor. My chest tightened with anger as I remembered the injustice.

The reason I studied Business Administration was to take over my parents’ company and grow it beyond what they had built. But our aunt had taken everything from us, even denying us the things our parents’ friends had left behind.

The house we currently lived in had been purchased through a trust fund my parents had set up something only I knew about. Immediately after the address was released, I had withdrawn all the funds. When Aunt Rita sent us away, I was able to secure the house and enroll Edward in a cheaper high school using what remained. I had even completed college with that money. Now, the fund was gone, and I depended solely on my salary, barely scraping by.

No one would have ever believed Aunt Rita could be this cruel. She had always been our favorite among our parents’ relatives. I remembered her visits vividly,candies and chocolates in hand, hugs and laughter, the warmth of someone more like a sibling than an aunt. But after our parents died, she showed her true colors. Every smile, every act of kindness before had been a mask. The betrayal still burned within me.

BRYAN

Why did I even ask her to warm my bed? I cursed myself internally, shaking my head. God, that was stupid. Now she’d see me as a bad person.

I didn’t want to admit how I felt, but a cold, gnawing fear had settled in my chest I was scared she would hate me.

Oh my… Carli Rillion, what are you doing to me? I whispered silently, my mind spinning. When did I start feeling this guilty, like some heartless jerk? I felt like I was losing my mind.

I called the office and asked for her. Minutes dragged by like hours, each second intensifying my anxiety. When she finally came on the line, I suddenly had nothing to say. My throat felt tight, my usual confidence evaporated.

“Sit,” I said firmly, my voice steady even though my heart raced.

She didn’t argue. She sat down immediately, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor echoing in the silent office.

“My mom will be coming over next week, so my driver will pick you up a day before. You’ll need to get some clothes for yourself,” I said quickly, my words spilling out before I could second guess them. She nodded politely, her expression unreadable.

“You can leave now,” I added calmly, forcing authority into my tone even though inside, I was still reeling.

She left the room, and I barely had time to breathe before my phone rang almost immediately. I picked it up at once, my fingers trembling slightly as I held the receiver.