Nina's POV

★NINA★

The morning after last night wasn’t any better—in fact, it started off wrong.

I woke up with a pounding headache and overwhelming exhaustion. I hadn’t done anything particularly strenuous the night before to feel this sick and tired. Matter of fact, I hadn’t been sick in nine years—not since my family’s death. I had always tried to live healthily, even though I was flat broke.

After my family’s death, I dropped out of school and was taken in by my maternal aunt after every relative on my father’s side blamed me for their deaths.

I wasn’t the cause of their deaths.

Someone had murdered them while I was away at boarding school, and that someone was still walking free because the police never found them. My father had been a police officer, so they had taken his case seriously—but still, they uncovered nothing.

It destroyed me, and for months, I didn’t know what to do with myself or how to cope. My aunt, who was single, took good care of me and made sure I was fed, but I didn’t want to be a burden. She wasn’t making enough money for herself, let alone for me, so I left.

That was when I was sixteen.

I wandered through New York, taking one menial job after another because I couldn’t land a stable one—I wasn’t particularly smart, just hardworking.

“Ugh!” I groaned as a sharp pain shot up my spine when I sat up in bed. Heaving a sigh, I forced myself to stand, brushed my teeth, and took a bath in the bathroom that could barely be called a cubicle.

I threw on another pair of t-shirts and jean shorts, locked my room, and mentally planned how to avoid my landlord that morning.

That, of course, was unsuccessful.

“Nina Manalo.”

My hand froze on the lock at the sound of the grubby voice.

I turned to see Colorado—my landlord—watching me with a scowl.

With a small, awkward smile, I said, “Mr. Colorado. How do ya do? Had a good sleep?”

He wasn’t having it.

“You’re not getting away this time, Nina,” he said, shaking his head. “You owe me $180. How do you intend to pay that?”

Yeah. Thirty dollars a month for this shitty room.

“Give me more time, Mr. Colorado. I’ve been saving, and once I get the amount, I’ll pay you right away.” I pursed my lips as he stared at me, but then something changed.

The look in his eyes shifted as he raked his gaze over my body from head to toe.

“You have such a nice body. How come I didn’t notice before?” He licked his lips in an incredibly disgusting manner.

If he were tall and lean, he might have been considered handsome. But no—he was short, grubby, and had a large potbelly, as though he had swallowed a whole pig.

“I have another offer to make—one in exchange for your debt,” he said with a sly smirk, leaning against the wall.

I already knew what he was going to say, but my ears perked up anyway. “What is it?”

He stepped closer, his cheap cologne filling my lungs. He stopped just in front of me. We were about the same height.

“Sleep with me for six days straight, and forget about your debt.”

I had expected it, but that didn’t stop the wave of nausea that washed over me.

Scowling, I spat in his face.

He might have been my landlord, but I wouldn’t let him walk all over me.

“Over my dead body. And I’m going to tell your wife.”

With that, I quickly sped past him, ignoring his angry shouts calling me a bitch.

***

Work today wasn’t any less dreary.

Even though it was payday, I didn’t feel particularly happy—because Boss James chose when to pay me.

He had been hitting on me for as long as I could remember. And like Redhead and Blondie said, he wanted to fuck me because of my boobs. Mr. James was actually a handsome man with plenty of money, and he would undoubtedly take care of me if he was fucking me well.

But that wasn’t happening.

“Gosh, she looks even more horrible than yesterday,” Jean—Redhead and Blondie’s friend—said as she walked past me toward the counter.

I sighed.

She was a cleaner like me but got along well with the servers. It was clear none of them liked me—probably because of my boobs and ass.

I cleaned a few more tables before Mr. James’ secretary, Lin Yang, came to find me.

“Mr. James has asked for you,” he said.

I nodded and passed through the restroom to drop off my cleaning tools before heading upstairs to Mr. James’ office with Lin Yang.

“Leave us, Lin,” James said, working behind his computer.

“Mr. James,” I greeted, stepping forward to stand before him. “You called for me?”

“That I did. Sit down, Nina.”

I hesitated before slowly sliding into the chair across from him.

“How have you been?”

“I’ve been fine, Mr. James,” I responded.

“James is fine when it’s just us, Nina.”

He shut his computer off and focused his full attention on me.

“What’s going on between you and your landlord, Nina?”

My face paled at the question.

I almost scoffed but remembered I was sitting in front of my boss.

I couldn’t believe Colorado had dragged his fat self here to talk to him.

“What did Colorado tell you?”

James didn’t like my question.

His scowl deepened. “You don’t ask the questions, Nina—I do. What’s going on?”

I sighed and leaned back in the chair.

“I have six months of unpaid rent,” I admitted.

His eyes widened slightly, and he pursed his lips.

“I see…” He nodded. “And the pay I always give you? What do you do with it that you can’t afford rent, Nina?”

I scoffed.

His pay? The scraps he decided to throw my way whenever he felt like it?

“I use it to take care of myself, James,” I said flatly.

His eyes narrowed.

I leaned over the desk, lowering my voice. “Might I remind you that you decide when to pay me—based on my ‘best behavior’?”

“Mind how you speak to me, Nina Manalo.” His voice snapped with irritation, and I sat back.

“Colorado made a scene here, and it’s all because of you. I don’t want customers thinking I have someone like you working for me.”

He sighed, leaned back, and pulled open a drawer. From his wallet, he took out five twenty-dollar bills and placed them on the desk.

“You’ve been on your best behavior lately. I’m treating you nicely.”

Slowly, I reached out and took the cash, biting my tongue to avoid snapping at him.

“Thank you,” I said, standing up.

“My offer still stands, though,” he added, smirking.

“And I’m still not interested.”

With that, I left his office for the restroom.

Cheryl and Jean were there, counting their money. Their stacks were way thicker than my five bills.

He liked them but didn’t want to sleep with them.

He didn’t like me but did want to sleep with me.

If that wasn’t stupidity, I didn’t know what to call it.

Ignoring them, I slipped into one of the stalls and sat on the toilet, finally giving in to the sobs that had been threatening to spill since I was in James’ office.

And then, I silently cried myself away.