Ari's POV:

"Oh my god, harder, Nathan... yes, like that." A high, keening moan. "Oh, please, don't stop. Don't ever stop."

I bit down on my lip. Hard. But it was nothing. Nothing compared to the raw, tearing ache spreading through my chest. My heart wasn't just breaking. It was bleeding out.

He grunted, his body moving in a rhythm I knew by heart. A rhythm that was supposed to be mine. "God, never. Why are you still so tight?" In. Out. "Even after all this time."

How long has this been going on?

Her hands slid around his neck, then down the length of his back. Her long nails dug into his skin. But that wasn't what made the room tilt.

It was her wrist.

Dangling from it, was a woven bracelet. Blue, green, and a thin strand of gold.

The exact same one I was wearing.

I made them on her birthday. "So we always carry a piece of each other. Best friends for life."

That was eight years ago. Eight years of secrets, of laughter, of her holding my hair back when I was sick and me staying up all night to help her study. That she was wearing now, in his bed, while he moved inside her.

A shaky gasp tore out of me first.

It was broken and soundless

Then the tears came. "Mary. What are you doing?"

It was enough. Nathan flew off of her like her skin had burned him. Like he hadn't been inside her seconds before.

"Ari," he said, breathless, grabbing for the sheets. "What are you doing here?"

I couldn't look at him. Not with the sweat still on his skin.

Mary pulled the bedspread around herself, avoiding eye contact.

"What you saw... it's not what happened," Nathan started, his voice rushing.

That's when I turned to him.

"It's not what happened? Nathan. It's not what happened?!" My voice rose, cracking on the last word. "You weren't just fucking my best friend?"

"She came onto me first!" he blurted, taking a step toward me. "You know I would never cheat on you."

Mary stood up then, letting the blanket fall. She didn't try to cover herself.

"Is it my fault?" she scoffed, "You were the one complaining about dating her. Your friends were all laughing at you for being with a waitress." She looked right at me, her gaze hard. "And it's true. She's not on your level, Nathan. I am."

"Mary, shut up!" Nathan snapped, his voice sharp with warning.

She didn't. She screamed it.

"Why are you still with her? She's got a mountain of debt! She has no money! She's always sad, always depressed, being around her is exhausting! All she does is whine about how unfair life is!" Her next word snapped something in me. "Her mother's sick with cancer. Her mother is dying. Hell, she's dead already! I don't even know why she's still trying to live!"

My body moved before my mind could catch up. I lunged forward and slapped her, hard. Her hand flew to her cheek. But I wasn't done.

I grabbed her by her hair and yanked her forward, slamming her head into the nearest wall. Over and over again. My vision was blurred with rage, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

"Ari, stop! You're going to kill her!" Nathan grabbed my arm, pulling me back with force.

Tears were still streaming down my face, hot and humiliating. I couldn't stop them. I couldn't stop the way my chest felt like it was suffocated.

I couldn't breathe. I needed air.

I turned to leave just as Nathan reached for me again.

"Don't you dare touch me," I choked out. "I hate you. You're disgusting."

I stumbled past him, down the hall, ignoring the stunned faces in the doorway. I pushed through the crowd on the stairs.

At the bottom, someone stepped directly into my path, refusing to move.

"Oh my. If it isn't the pathetic loser." A familiar, high-pitched voice cut through the noise in my head.

Angela.

She looked down at me, a cold smile on her face.

"You're crying. Of course you are. Finally figured out your best friend was fucking your boyfriend, huh?" She tsked. "God, you're hopeless. Right under your nose, and you had no idea. Did it break your little heart?"

I didn't think. I shoved her hard.

She stumbled backward, crashing into a table loaded with drinks. Glass shattered. Liquor splashed across her dress and onto the floor. A chorus of gasps and shouts erupted around us.

I didn't stay to watch. I ran out the front door, and the cold night air hit me.

It was only then I noticed the sky was crying too.

When did it start raining?

I walked without direction, my arms wrapped tightly around myself. The rain soaked my thin dress, mixing with the tears still streaming down my face.

I found a park, and let the sobs finally break free when I sat on a swing. Ugly, wrenching cries that shook my whole body.

My phone buzzed in my purse. I fumbled with numb fingers, pulling it out.

"You picked up! So? How was it? Did he say yes?" Her voice was bright, impatient. "I know I said I'd wait till you got back, but I couldn't....."

She stopped.

"Wait... Ari? What's wrong? Sis, are you crying? Are you outside? It's raining... I can hear it."

My breath hitched. "Lena," I whispered, my voice raw. "Please... come get me."

"Where are you?"

"In a park."

I don't know how I got home.

When I came to be, I was in our living room, stripped down to my underwear. A warm blanket was wrapped around my shoulders, and a mug of something hot was pressed between my cold hands.

Lena walked in with her own mug and sat close beside me on the couch. She was already in her pajamas. Guilt consumed me. I'd dragged her out in the middle of the night.

Before I could open my mouth to apologize, she spoke first.

"Don't," she said softly. "Don't apologize for calling me. Just tell me what happened. You were supposed to be at that fancy dinner, not sitting alone in the rain."

Tears welled up instantly, blurring the steam rising from my mug. "Nathan cheated on me."

Her face hardened. "That son of a bitch. Mary mentioned something like that the other day. I thought she was joking." She reached for her phone on the coffee table. "Does she even know? I can call her....."

"No," I cut her off, my voice low and tired. "Nathan cheated on me... with Mary."

Lena went perfectly still. "Mary? Your Mary? Your best friend in the whole world?"

I let out a hollow laugh. "Yeah. My best friend in the whole world." I looked up at the ceiling. "I'm such a fool. And a bad daughter. All because of that stupid surprise, I spent everything. I only have a little left for Mom's treatment now."

Lena wrapped her hand around my wrist. "Don't. Don't you dare feel guilty. You've done more than anyone could ask for. You deserved something nice for yourself, even if it... didn't go how you planned." She paused, her voice softening. "Which brings me to the other thing. I wasn't sure how to tell you."

My heart skipped. Was she being kicked out of school? Had the tuition payment bounced?

"I sent your information to Blackwood Holdings," she said in a rush. "They posted an opening. A secretary or assistant position. It didn't require a degree, just strong organizational skills and... resilience. I sent them your details last week."

I turned to stare at her like she'd lost her mind. "Lena. What would a company like Blackwood Holdings want with a university dropout? They hire from Ivy Leagues, important universities."

"Their posting said all backgrounds would be considered," she insisted, her eyes pleading. "Ari, please don't shut this down before it even starts. Let's just... hope. Maybe this could be our chance. Our light in this dark tunnel."

And I did. I let myself hope. Not that I had any more choice.

ARI'S POV:

Talk about a light in the tunnel.

Right now, my tunnel was caving in.

I lost my bartending job two days ago. I caught a cold and was down with a fever. Called in for a sick leave, and the next day, my job was replaced by someone else. Just like that.

It doesn't matter how hard you work....or love. You're always replaceable.

The thought was familiar. It didn't even hurt anymore.....who was I lying to?

Now my second job, the morning shift at the Café, was all I had left. Ever since that night, I'd been walking around wrapped in a kind of numb, heavy silence. There was the burning anger, but mostly, it was empty, hollow.

My heart didn't just hurt; it locked up in pain. You can't miss what you don't let in.

I'd trusted two people with everything, and they'd handed me back the pieces. Love wasn't a comfort anymore. It was a wound I wouldn't let anyone reopen. Not ever again.

Was I that unlovable that everyone keeps on abandoning me?

"Ari, you good? You're zoning out again."

Chloe was staring at me, a worried line between her brows. I'd been standing there, holding a dirty rag, staring at the smudged surface of the counter like I could wipe away the memory of Nathan's face, Mary's voice, the sound of them together.

Stop. Don't go back there.

I forced a smile. "Yeah. Just tired."

She didn't look convinced, but she nodded and turned back to the espresso machine. I was grateful she didn't push. I couldn't talk about it. If I started, I might never stop.

The morning rush was about to start. I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the noise, the smiles.

Just get through the shift. Don't feel. Just move. Think about Mom's treatment. Lena's tuition deposit. Rent: due in nine days..

The bell above the café door chimed.

The morning rush began. I picked up a tray, forced another smile, and went to work.

The café door chimed again.

Angela walked in, surrounded by her usual clique. My stomach tightened. I hadn't seen her since the night of the party.

She slid into a booth by the window, her eyes finding mine immediately. A cold, slick smile spread across her face.

I walked over to take their order, my pen and notepad felt heavy in my hand.

"Well, look who it is," Angela said, faking enthusiasm. "The help. Doing your daily slave labor, Ari?"

Her friends snickered.

I kept my face blank, my eyes lowered to the notepad.

Don't react. Just take the order and leave.

"What can I get for you?"

She took her time, dragging out each word, making a show of looking over the menu she already knew by heart. Finally, she rattled off a complicated drink and a pastry. Her friends followed.

I wrote it all down without a word, turned, and walked away.

At the counter, my hands shook slightly as I prepared their drinks. Chloe glanced over, her brow furrowed, but I shook my head. It's fine.

I brought the tray, setting their item carefully.

Angela picked up her cup, took a tiny sip, and made a face. "This isn't what I ordered," she said, her voice loud enough to turn a few heads. "I asked for an iced caramel macchiato with extra caramel drizzle. This is practically bare."

I didn't argue. "I'll remake it."

I took the cup back, my jaw tight. At the espresso machine, I made the drink again, exactly as she'd described.

When I set the new glass in front of her, she didn't touch it. She just stared at it, then up at me, her eyes gleaming.

Then she pushed the drink away. "You put milk in this," she said, her voice now echoing in the quiet café. "I told you I'm lactose intolerant. Are you trying to make me sick?"

My tongue was tied in my mouth.

Angela leaned forward, dropping to a whisper. "You really are as stupid as they say, aren't you? No wonder Nathan dropped you for Mary. He said sleeping with you felt like pity."

I didn't say a word. I picked up Angela's freshly remade drink from the table and poured it slowly over her head. Iced coffee and caramel drizzle slid down her hair, her face, her expensive blouse.

She gasped, stunned, but I wasn't done.

One by one, I grabbed each of her friends' drinks_the lattes, the americanos, the smoothies_and dumped them on her. They shrieked, scrambling back from the booth, but I kept going until the last cup was empty and Angela sat soaked and sputtering in a puddle of brown liquid and melting whipped cream.

The café was dead silent.

I placed the last empty cup neatly on the table. "Now you look like what you are. Shallow, bitter, and full of shit."

The café door to the back office burst open.

Manager Ross rushed out, his face already pinched with irritation. "What's all this...?"

He stopped. His eyes swept from Angela to the empty cups on the table, to me standing calmly beside the booth with my apron still clean and my hands at my sides.

His face darkened. "Ari. My office. Now."

I looked at him, then at Angela, who was beginning to tremble, whether from embarrassment or rage, I couldn't tell.

I didn't wait for him to say it. I could see it in his eyes as I untied my apron slowly, folded it once, and laid it neatly on the counter.

"Don't stress yourself, Ross," I said, my voice steady, though something inside me was crumbling. "I'm already leaving."

I didn't look back at anyone. I just walked out the front door, the bell chiming softly behind me for the last time.

The strength that had burned through me moments before vanished. My knees felt weak.

I just lost my last job. What now?

I pushed the thought down. I couldn't afford to spiral. Not yet. I had nowhere to be. No shift to rush to. .

I need to find a new job. Start again.

The thought was exhausting. I'd have to scour listings, walk into places, smile, pretend I wasn't one bad day away from breaking. And pray I wouldn't run into Angela .

But that was for later.

Right now, it is still morning. Visiting hours at the hospital had just begun.

At least there was one place I was still needed. At least there was one person who wouldn't look at me and see a failure.

I reached the hospital and walked the familiar, quiet hallway to her room. The nurse at the station gave me a soft look as I approached.

"She just drifted off, sweetie," she said gently. "Had a rough night. Let her rest."

I nodded, my throat tight. I didn't go in.

Instead, I slid down the wall outside her door, my back against the cool plaster. I drew my knees to my chest and just sat there on the floor.

Inside, my mother was. Fighting. Surviving.

Out here, I was just... waiting. Trying not to fall apart.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out slowly. An unknown number flashed on the screen. My stomach dropped.

It must be one of the debt collectors.

I let it ring twice more, my thumb hovering over the decline button. But ignoring it wouldn't make it go away.

I swiped to answer and brought the phone to my ear, bracing myself. "Hello?"

"Am I speaking to Ms. Ari Johnson?" The voice on the other end was professional, and utterly unfamiliar.

"Yes... this is she."

"Good morning. My name is Martin Vance, executive secretary at Blackwood Holdings. I'm calling to inform you that your application has been shortlisted. You are scheduled for a preliminary interview tomorrow morning at 8 a.m. sharp at our corporate headquarters."

The words didn't process at first. They floated somewhere in the air between the sterile hospital walls and my numb mind..

"Ms. Johnson?"

"Yes," I breathed, my voice barely a whisper. "I-I'll be there."

"Excellent. Details have been sent to the email on your application. Please arrive fifteen minutes early. Good day."

The call ended.

I lowered the phone and stared at the blank screen. Outside my mother's door, on the cold hospital floor, a tiny crack of light split the dark.

I had an interview.

I had a chance.

ARI'S POV:

Blackwood Holdings was nothing like the pictures in the financial blogs.

In person, it was a monument. A tower of dark, reflective glass that speared the morning sky, so tall I had to tip my head all the way back to see where it ended. It didn't just stand among the other buildings, it dominated them, cold and sleek and untouchable.

I clutched my small, worn purse to my side, my knuckles white. Get it together, Ari. I shook my head, and walked toward the entrance.

The automatic glass doors slid open silently.

If the outside was imposing, the inside was... another world.

The lobby was huge and quiet. The ceiling felt miles high. The floor was a smooth, pale stone that shone under soft lights. The air was cool and smelled clean, like lemon and expensive air freshener.

People moved through it quietly, dressed in perfect, grey suits. They looked like they'd never worn anything secondhand in their lives. Unlike me.

A tall man in a perfectly tailored black suit approached the small cluster of us hovering near the security desk. I wasn't the only interviewee. A few others stood, clutching folders, adjusting ties, their faces having the same nervous hope I felt.

"Good morning. Are you here for the junior executive assistant interviews?" His voice was even clear.

We all nodded or murmured a "yes."

"I am Martin Vance, Mr. Thorne's executive secretary. Please follow me."

He led us to a checkpoint, issued temporary passes, and handed each of us a lanyard with a card. INTERVIEWEE – 8:00 AM BLOCK. I slipped it over my head.

This was it. My only real chance. Not just for a job, but for a lifeline. For Mom's treatments, for Lena's tuition, for a way out of the drowning dark.

This could be the page where my new life began.

I sat in the air-conditioned waiting room. But even the chill in the air couldn't stop me from sweating on the inside. I chewed on the inside of my lip.

I was last. Every other person called before me had walked into the meeting room and come out minutes later wearing a strange look. And each one was quietly escorted out by security. No one spoke. No one looked back.

I had no idea what was happening in there.

By the time my name was called, my nerves were wound tight. I stood up, smoothed my cheap dress, and took a shallow breath.

Well. Here goes nothing. Or everything.

The man on the other side of the table was unfamiliar. Late thirties, maybe. Stern face, thin-framed glasses resting low on his nose. He didn't smile.

"You're Ari Johnson. Twenty-four years old."

"Yes... yes, sir,"

He hummed, flipping through a file in front of him. "Who is your father?"

I blinked. "My father?"

He glared at me and It pushed the answer out of me.

"I... don't know where he is. He was a drunk. He left my mom and my sister years ago."

"I believe he left significant debt."

Was that a question or a statement? "Yes. He did."

"And you are the one attempting to pay it."

I nodded slowly. What kind of interview was this? I came for a job, not to have my life picked apart.

"And your mother has cancer. Without extensive treatment, she will die."

That was it.

I stood up. My chair scraped loudly against the floor. "Is this an interview," I said, my voice trembling, "or a mockery of someone's life?"

"Miss, I advise you to sit down."

"No." I pointed a finger at him, my hand shaking. He didn't flinch. "I'm done with these questions. Are you so bored that you hold fake interviews just to make fun of people?"

The door opened during my outburst.

The man across from me stood up immediately, his posture stiffening. "Good morning, Mr. Thorne."

Mr. Thorne?

As in the CEO.

I turned slowly.

And there he was. Mr night sea blue eyes. The man from the restaurant. His lips were set in a thin line. Everything about him was hard, carved from stone and authority.

I swallowed thickly. All my angry words vanished, lost somewhere deep in my stomach.

"Miss," he said, his voice a low, husky vibration in the quiet room. "It seems there is a problem."

A shiver I couldn't control ran straight through me.

I cleared my throat, forcing my voice to steady. "Your employee seems to enjoy humiliating people. Is that company policy?"

Mr Thorne's expression didn't change. "Yes. You're right, Miss. I do take a certain... satisfaction in listening to the circumstances of a person's life. Especially when it benefits me."

My hands tightened around my purse strap. Then a cold, sickening realization hit me. "How do you even know all this?"

He didn't answer. Just held my gaze, steady and unblinking.

And it clicked. "You ran a background check. On every applicant. That's an invasion of privacy. I could go to the police. They'd arrest you for-"

He cut me off, his voice dangerously calm. "You're free to try. Let's see who they believe."

My breath caught. "What do you want from me?"

He turned his head slightly toward the other man and gave a faint nod.

The man adjusted his glasses. "Miss Johnson, of all the applicants, you are the most... qualified for this position."

"What position?"

"You're to be Mr. Thorne's wife."

The air left the room.

"...What?" I didn't know when I started laughing. "I'm done here."

"I will pay all your debts," he said, his voice even. "I will ensure your mother receives the best treatment available. I will compensate you generously."

I turned and glared at him, this beautiful, cold man in his perfect suit. "Take your money," I said, "and shove it."

I didn't wait for a reply. I brushed past him, my shoulder hitting his arm harder than I'd intended, and walked out of the office without looking back.

I was qualified, my foot. My life was more miserable, they meant. Why did he have to hold interviews to claim a wife when most ladies are willing to be my his side.

The more I thought about it, the more I was getting angry. This was my only hope.

I was already a block away from Blackwood holdings when my phone rang, and it was Lena. I picked it up, "Lena can you believe what just–"

"Sis, they want to take mum off the machines." Her voice choked and trembling. "I'm calling my sister now. Please don't do that. Please."

"Lena." My blood running cold. "talk to me. What is happening?" My legs picking up in haste.

"They said... the last payment didn't clear. We can't afford the next phase of treatment." She broke into sob.

"I'm coming. Don't let them do anything. I'm on my way."

My legs moved before my mind could catch up. I was already running back to the Blackwood's holding. My heels slapping against the pavement, my heart beating too fast.

The receptionist looked up. "Miss, you can't_"

"Is Mr. Thorne still here?" My voice was shaking.

"I need to check_"

I didn't wait. I ran for the elevators.

Security moved."Miss! Stop!"

I slammed my palm against the button. The doors slid open. I jumped in and pressed the floor number, my finger stabbing the same button over and over.

The doors closed just as hands reached for them.

I leaned against the cold metal wall, gasping.

When the doors opened. I ran out, confused, the hallway stretching in both directions. I didn't know where to go.

Then I saw Mr. Vance stepping out of a door, I lunged forward, reaching him just before it closed. My mouth opened to ask to where Mr Thorne was

Then I saw him through the glass. Sitting behind his desk.

I didn't think. I pushed past Vance and shoved the door open.

"I agree to the deal." I announced.

He leaned forward, his hands flat on the table. "The deal is off," he said calmly. "I don't offer second chances."

My knees hit the floor. I didn't care who saw. Didn't care about the shame burning through me.

"Please, Mr. Thorne."

He looked down at me, his face unreadable. "You are desperate."

"Yes." My voice cracked.

"I'll be your wife whether you like it or not."