Joan’s POV“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice a fragile, broken thing.I sounded pathetic even to my own ears. But what else was there? I was already drowning under the two-hundred-million-dollar ghost of my father’s debt, suffocating under a hundred-thousand-dollar rent due at dawn, which I had only seen five thousand dollars out of, and now? Now I had just shattered three million dollars of vintage liquid?“You’re sorry?” Isobel let out a sharp, jagged scoff. She glanced back at her inner circle—Priya, Camille, and Lexi, who were already laughing, their amusement cutting through the club's bass like jagged ice. “Did you hear that, girls? The charity case is sorry.”The heavy VIP curtains shifted, and my boss, Mr. McCall, stepped into the light.I watched his face drain of color the second his eyes landed on the shimmering amber puddle and the green glass scattered across the marble. He went rigid, his eyes widening with a terror so pure it made him look ten years older. He swallowed
Last Updated : 2026-07-01 Read more