Wet Desire: Claimed by My Boss and His Friends

Ana's Pov.

I'm sitting on a wooden church bench. My hands grip the edge of my skirt so tightly that the fabric wrinkles. My boyfriend, Max, stands there in his neat black suit. Beside him is Sasha, my best friend since the first day I stepped into this city two years ago. Sasha's stomach is already swollen beneath her white dress.

Two months ago, Sasha came to my apartment, dropped to her knees, and sobbed.

"Ana, I'm pregnant, and this baby is Max's. Please don't be mad."

I didn't cry back then. I just stayed silent.

I didn't know who I should be angry at. Max, who said he was busy with work? Or Sasha, who drank coffee with me every morning while talking about the guys chasing after her?

Now they're getting married, and they're kissing at the altar. Everyone is clapping. Max's family, Sasha's family, and the friends who know me as "Sasha's good friend." No one even looks my way.

I slowly stand up and walk out through the side door.

Outside, my phone vibrates hard inside my pocket.

"Ana, come to the mall right now!"

I quickly head to the mall, and it takes me twenty minutes to get there. By the time I arrive, Clara is already waiting.

"Oh my God, you took forever," Clara complains while shoving three large shopping bags into my hands. "Carry these."

I lift all the bags. Their weight drags my shoulders down. She walks ahead of me in her expensive shoes while casually talking about the party she went to last night at a nightclub I've never even stepped into because one entrance f*e alone could pay for my meals for an entire week.

I just follow her, occasionally adjusting the bags slipping from my shoulders and lowering my head to avoid the stares of people watching a girl with messy curly hair carrying piles of luxury shopping bags in broad daylight.

When we reach the front of the mall, Clara stops at the drop-off area. I place the bags down on the stone pavement while trying to catch my breath. My arms feel like they're about to fall off.

A few moments later, three luxury cars stop right in front of us. Bodyguards step out of the cars in front and behind. They open the doors quickly, and middle-aged men step out wearing neat suits, polished shoes, and flawless faces. One of them is Clara's father.

"Oh, I almost forgot, Ana." Clara turns around, pulls out several euro bills, twenties, fifties, tens, then throws them at me. The money hits my left cheek before falling to the ground.

She's repeated this humiliation hundreds of times over the past two years. Back then, it hurt my feelings, but now nothing could hurt more than what I experienced this morning when I watched my boyfriend marry my best friend.

I lower my head. I pick up the euro bills one by one and slip them into my jacket pocket without counting them.

When I stand back up and brush the dust off my knees, Clara is already inside the car. But before the car door closes, I see something that makes my breath catch for a moment.

The men in the back seats of each car are staring at me.

I can't move. Then the car doors close one by one. The three cars drive away together, leaving me standing alone on the sidewalk with dirty money in my pocket and the smell of exhaust smoke filling my nose.

Then I return to the mansion. Of course, it's not my mansion. I work there, in Clara's father's house.

When I arrive, I unlock my room door with a rusty key, then cry for the first time that day.

I've just calmed myself down when my phone vibrates again. I think it's a message from Clara, but it's Max.

"I know you were at the church earlier. You saw it yourself, right? Sasha is beautiful, but you? Take a good look at yourself. Your boyfriend chose another girl, and you still don't realize why? You can't even take care of yourself properly. You're such an ugly girl! After this, no man will ever want you."

I read the message once, then twice.

Not an apology. Not regret. Just insults from the man who used to be my boyfriend.

I want to reply and pour out all the pain that's been building inside me for the past two months, but my hand stops.

There's no point. He's not my problem anymore.

I tap his name and block him, but less than a minute later, another message comes in from Clara.

"Hey, idiot! Get to the swimming pool now!"