chapter 14

Esmeralda’s POV

Be my mistress!

Be mine!

I stabbed at the cereal again, bringing a spoon full of soggy oats to my mouth.

“Arrogant jerk,” I whispered, remembering the way he had looked at me; like he was doing me a favor, like he was saving my life. I had never been so humiliated in my entire existence!

A sudden wave of dizziness swept over me, and I frowned. Every time I thought about his proposition, a wave of nausea washed over my stomach right alongside the lightheadedness.

"You're already awake?

I turned.

Mulan stood in the kitchen doorway, rubbing one sleepy eye as she yawned. Her hair was a complete mess, looking like she had barely slept at all.

"You scared me," I mumbled softly.

"We just got back from our shift," she said, squinting at me. "Don't tell me two hours of sleep is enough for you."

"I couldn't sleep," I shot back. “And what about you? Why are you awake?”

"I got thirsty." She shuffled over to the sink and filled a glass directly from the tap. She pulled out the chair across from me, looking down at my bowl, then up at me.

I set my spoon down. "I transferred my share of the grocery money to you earlier, right after our shift. It should have gone through by now."

She lifted her head. "I saw it." She pointed a finger at me. " But, I'm sending it back."

"No, don't… It's my contribution to this house.”

"I'm not spending it. I mean, you didn't even let it sit in your account for a full hour before you sent it." She shook her head. "We don't need it. We barely eat at home, and when you do eat, you nibble like a rat, so the grocery bill is mostly for me anyway." She waved a hand dismissively. "Keep it for the funeral payment."

"I have separate savings for that," I insisted, shaking my head. “And I don't nibble like a rat!”

“You do…”

“I do not,” I argued back.

"Just keep it for when you move out. It can be your fresh start." She held my gaze, her voice firm. "I mean it, Ella. I'm saving it, and when you move out, I'm sending every cent right back to you.”

I opened my mouth to argue again.

She pointed at me once more. "Don't. It's my money now, and I'll give it to whoever I please.”

A gentle warmth spread through my chest. I honestly didn't know what I would have done without Mulan these past few weeks. To think I had believed my life was entirely over when my mother died...

"So..." Mulan said, leaning against the table. "Are you still working at the Meridian tonight?"

"The gala?"

She nodded.

"Of course.”

"Ella." Her tone became softer. "Can I ask you something?"

"You're going to ask it regardless."

"Have you actually taken any time to grieve?”

The question hung heavily in the air between us. I lowered my gaze back to my cereal.

"I mean it," she said quietly. "You’ve been working every single shift available since the day after your mother passed. Double shifts, night shifts, and now this gala. It's like you're filling every hour of the day so there's no space left to…” She stopped, taking a breath before starting again. "You're burying it all in work, Ella, and it's not healthy."

She wasn't wrong. I was burying every emotion in work.

I was terrified of facing the reality that my mother was gone, that I hadn't been there to say a proper goodbye. I was terrified that if I slowed down for even a second, everything inside me would shatter beyond repair.

"I'm saving for the funeral home down payment," I blinked back the sudden tears that threatened to fall. "And this month's morgue f*e is due in ten days. I need the hours, Mulan."

"That is not what I mean, and you know it."

“I…”

Before I could answer, the front door slammed open with a deafening bang!

I froze instantly, while Mulan went rigid beside me.

Standing in the doorway was a tall, burly man. A jagged scar cut across one side of his face, and he had a calm, indifferent look in his eyes that made my skin crawl.

My heart plummeted into my stomach.

The loan sharks.

They had found me again. I thought I had been so careful, I never imagined their men would track me here.

“Mis… mister…” I stammered, my voice trembling as I instinctively moved behind Mulan, grabbing the back of her shirt. "I have money in my account. You can have it…all of it! Just…” I swallowed hard. "Just please don't hurt us."

The man's eye flickered over to me before shifting his dark gaze past my shoulder toward Mulan. “Nice to see you, sister.”

Sister?

Mulan knows him?

“Klaus,” Mulan snapped, her brows pulling into a furious scowl. “What are you doing here, asshole?”

He shrugged casually. “Can't a brother visit his little sister?”

"You are not welcome here," Mulan said, her voice laced with poison. "Not after the stunt you pulled. No."

Klaus shrugged again, stepping further into the small kitchen. He pulled out my chair, the one I had just been sitting in, forcing me to scramble sideways out of his path. He sat down and casually helped himself to my bowl of cereal.

"At least let me state the reason I'm here.”

"I said no! Just get out!” Mulan shouted.

You're still angry."

"I said get the hell out."

He scooped another spoonful before he spoke again. "I came to apologize…"

“Esme,” Mulan cut in sharply before he could finish his sentence. “Can you please excuse us? We'll finish our discussion later.”

I didn't need to be told twice. I grabbed my phone off the kitchen counter and briskly walked back toward the bedroom hallway.

“Aren't you going to introduce me to your pretty roommate?” A sharp whistle echoed behind me as Klaus spoke.

I hurried into my room, shut the door, and leaned my back hard against the wood, letting out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. I closed my eyes and silently whispered a prayer:

Please, Lord, don't let him stay over.

But fate rarely favored someone like me, because a few minutes later, a soft knock sounded at the door, and Mulan slipped inside.

“Esme, I'm so sorry…” she muttered, her eyes looking everywhere except at mine. “He’s going to stay over for just two days until he settles his housing situation.”

I nodded because it wasn't my apartment, It wasn't my brother, and I wasn't in a position to complain.

But as I stared at my bedroom door, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease in my heart.