The front door slammed behind her with a finality that rang in her ears. Rain hammered down in cold, merciless sheets, soaking her scrubs instantly. A yellow cab slowed. She flung out her hand.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

“Anywhere at all, just drive to a club."she rasped.

The city blurred past the rain-streaked window. Three years. Three fucking years of loyalty, of late shifts covered so he could rest, of learning his mother’s recipes and swallowing her own dreams.

All of it reduced to Troy’s mocking laugh and Cassidy’s naked smirk. The sob tore out of her before she could stop it. She pressed her forehead to the cold glass and let the tears fall.

The cab stopped outside a pulsing neon sign. She shoved damp bills at the driver and stepped into the downpour.

Inside, the bass slammed into her chest like a second heartbeat. She made straight for the bar, water dripping from her curls onto the sticky floor.

“Six shots of tequila,” she told the bartender. “Line them up.”

He raised an eyebrow but poured. She downed the first two before he finished the rest. The burn felt good. It was something other than the knife in her chest.

By the sixth shot, she was floating in a numb, angry haze. She slammed the empty glass down and pushed into the crowd.

Bodies pressed against her, sweat and perfume and heat. She moved with them, hips swaying, head thrown back. The music swallowed her screams.

Every beat reminded her of Troy’s groan, Cassidy’s laugh. She grabbed a half-empty bottle from a table and drank straight from it, liquid fire sliding down her throat.

“Three years,” she slurred to no one, laughing bitterly. “Three years and I was just the boring girlfriend with the fucking cake.”

She spun, nearly falling, and collided hard with a solid chest.

Strong hands caught her elbows before she could hit the floor. The bottle was gently but firmly taken from her grip.

“Easy there,” A deep voice said, low and smooth over the music. “You’re about to drown yourself in that thing.”

Liora blinked up. He was tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair damp from the rain, sharp jaw shadowed by stubble. Expensive shirt unbuttoned at the collar.

Eyes like midnight watching her with a mix of amusement and something darker.

She swayed into him, gripping his shirt to stay upright. “Didn’t ask for a knight in shining armor.”

“I have no armor,” He replied, steadying her with one hand at her waist. “Just trying to keep you from cracking your skull on my boots. What’s got a pretty thing like you trying to drink the whole bar?”

She laughed, bitter and broken. “Pretty? That’s funny. My boyfriend, nah, ex-boyfriend said I was boring. A boring pathetic girlfriend.” Her voice cracked. “He even fucked my best friend in our bed on his birthday. While I was bringing him cake.”

“Damn. That’s cold.”The stranger’s grip tightened.

“Cold is too soft to define what they said to me." She pressed closer, drunk courage flooding her. Her hands slid up his chest. “They laughed about how I fuck. Said I was too uptight and too predictable.” She rose on her toes, lips brushing his ear. “Maybe they were right. Maybe I need someone to teach me properly.”

His breath hitched. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.”

“I’m done playing safe.” She nipped his earlobe, bold and sloppy. “I want to forget his hands, I want to forget her voice. Make me forget, stranger. Fuck the memory of him out of me.”

He pulled back just enough to look at her. His thumb traced her bottom lip, smearing what was left of her lipstick. “You’re drunk, princess. Tomorrow you might regret this.”

“I regret three years,” she whispered fiercely. “I regret trusting them. I don’t regret wanting your hands on me right now.” She rolled her hips against him, feeling him harden. “Look at me. I’m soaked, ruined, and still begging. Doesn’t that turn you on?”

His eyes darkened.

“More than you know.” One hand slid down to grip her ass, pulling her flush against him. “You want dirty? You want rough? Say it clearly.”

She shivered, heat pooling low in her belly.

“I want you to bend me over somewhere dark. I want your cock so deep I can’t think about anything else. I want marks, I want to scream your name until mine doesn’t matter.” Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging. “Please. Make me feel something besides this pain and emptiness.”

He groaned softly, forehead resting against hers.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be a big trouble.” His free hand cupped her jaw, thumb stroking her cheek. “What’s your name, princess?”

“Liora,” she breathed. “And I don’t care what yours is.”

He smirked, then he leaned in against her ear. “I’m going to take you somewhere private. Strip you slow. Taste every inch of this pretty body they called boring. By the time I’m done, you’ll be shaking, dripping, and forgetting every other person but me.”

Liora moaned softly, the words hitting harder than the alcohol. She kissed him again, messy, desperate. He kissed back like he’d been starving for it, tongue sliding against hers, hand squeezing her ass possessively.

When they broke apart, she was panting. “I want you now. Before I change my mind and go cry in the bathroom.”

He didn’t hesitate. He scooped her up effortlessly, one arm under her thighs, the other around her back. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her through the crowd like she weighed nothing.

(Word count: 1097)

The door clicked shut behind them. The stranger carried her straight to the king-sized bed in the private suite of the club and set her down on the sheets. A single amber lamp glowed in the corner. The bass from the club below vibrated faintly through the floor.

He stood back for a second and looked at her. Wet scrubs, smeared makeup, messy curls.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. “Makes me want to fuck you until you forget your own name.”

"You’re the first person to say that to me.”

Liora’s breath caught.

He stepped closer. His fingers touched her cheek, then her jaw. “I’m not here to fix anything for you, but I can make you forget for a while at least.”

She grabbed his shirt and pulled him down. Their mouths met hard. He kissed her like he meant it, deep and rough. Her hands moved fast, tugging at his buttons.

He ripped her soaked top open and the fabric tore. He yanked her scrubs down her legs and tossed them aside. Her bra came off next, then her panties.

Naked, she reached for him. He shoved his pants down as his cock sprang free, thick and hard. He climbed over her, pushed her legs apart, and slid two fingers straight into her pussy. She gasped loud. He pumped them fast, curling them, drawing out wet sounds.

“Fuck,” she moaned, her hips lifting.

He pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his cock in one thrust. She cried out, her back arching. He was big. It stung, but she wanted it.

He flipped them so she was on top. She tried to ride him, but he gripped her ass with both hands and slammed up into her, hard and fast.

Skin slapped against skin. She fell forward onto his chest. He didn’t slow down. He fucked her like he was punishing her, deep strokes that made her whimper every time he bottomed out.

“I’m gonna cum,” He growled.

He thrust up harder and spilled inside her. Hot pulses filled her. She shook on top of him, moaning through her own orgasm.

They didn’t stop. He rolled her onto her back again, hooked her legs over his shoulders, and fucked her a second time. Then a third. Each round rougher than the last. She lost count of how many times she came before she finally passed out.

.....

Morning light stabbed through the gaps in the curtains. Liora woke with a pounding headache as she sat up slowly.Her body ached everywhere. Thighs sore, back scratched, neck bitten.

She looked down. She had no clothes on. The sheets stuck to her skin.

“Oh shit,” she whispered.

She tried to stand. Her knees buckled. She caught herself on the edge of the bed and stayed there until the dizziness passed. Flashes came back. The stranger's hands, his cock stretching her. The way he kept going even when she was shaking.

She scanned the floor. Her scrubs lay in pieces. Top ripped down the front. Pants torn at the waist. Bra and panties missing.

“Jesus Christ.”

A sleek black box sat on the stool near the bed. She wrapped the sheet around herself and opened it. Inside was a new dress, he seems thoughtful.

She looked under the stool and picked up a small red card from the floor. One side said “Skyhigh Suites” in silver. The other side had a single letter: J.

No phone number or name. Just J.

She carried the card and the dress into the bathroom. The mirror showed the damage. Bite marks on her breasts, bruises on her hips, fingerprints on her thighs. She turned on the shower and stepped under the hot water. It stung the marks but she scrubbed anyway, washing away the sweat and come.

After she dried off, she pulled the new dress over her head. It fit perfectly, hugging her body. She looked at herself again. She looked different from yesterday. Not better, just different.

She stuffed the torn clothes into a plastic bag she found under the sink, grabbed her purse, and slipped the red card inside it. Then she left the suite.

The club downstairs was quiet now, cleaners moving between tables. Morning sun hit her face when she stepped outside.

Liora stood on the sidewalk for a moment. Her head still throbbed. Her pussy was sore with every step.

She raised her hand for a cab. One stopped. She gave the driver her address, the old apartment she wouldn’t be returning to. She would pick up her things later.

As the cab drove, she turned the red card over in her fingers. J. She didn’t know if she would ever see him again. Part of her hoped she wouldn’t. Another part wondered what would happen if she did.

She slipped the card back into her bag and leaned her head against the window. The rain from last night had stopped. The streets were wet and shining.

For the first time since she walked in on Troy and Cassidy, Liora took a full breath. But she wouldn't lie to herself, it still hurt.

A black SUV rolled to a stop outside the private terminal. Jace Callahan sat in the back, one leg crossed over the other, dark aviators hiding his eyes. He kept checking the gold watch on his wrist like the time was personally offending him.

Outside, the fans had gone wild. Screaming girls pressed against the barricades, phones up, signs waving. Camera flashes popped nonstop against the tinted windows.

Cole turned from the front seat. “They’re everywhere, boss. We should’ve used the private hangar like I said.”

“They always find out.” Jace answered, voice flat. “Doesn’t matter.”

Another wave of screams hit when someone thought they saw movement.

“JACE! JACE OVER HERE!” Girls were crying, pushing, begging for one look.

“Pigs.” Jace muttered under his breath.

Cole almost laughed but caught himself. He stepped out first. Security moved in fast, big guys in black suits creating a wall. Cole opened the back door.

Jace stepped out slowly. The second his polished shoes hit the ground, the noise became worse. He didn’t smile, neither did he wave at them. He just walked forward, the security tight around him, while the crowd screamed his name like he was some kind of god.

Inside the terminal, their shoes clicked loud on the marble. Cole stayed half a step behind, talking fast.

“We land in Paris at 14:10. You’ve got meetings back to back with Delacour Industries and the Swiss bankers. They want to renegotiate the offshore contracts in person.”

Jace said nothing. His face stayed cold.

Cole cleared his throat. “Also… your mother sent another message.”

Jace stopped walking. The whole team behind him almost crashed into each other. He turned his head slowly. “Delete it.”

Cole nodded quickly. “Yes, boss.”

They kept moving. Jace’s voice stayed low. “About Reiner Corporation. They flew in from Zurich. They’re threatening to pull out again.”

“Make them wait,” Jace said.

“But boss—”

Jace stopped dead. Everyone froze. “I said make them wait.”

Cole swallowed. “Yes, boss.”

They reached the jet. A flight attendant bowed slightly. “Welcome aboard, Mr. Callahan.”

Jace didn’t answer. He just unbuttoned his cuffs, sat down, and took the glass of bourbon waiting for him. The jet started moving before he even looked out the window.

---

Liora rushed through the back door of the restaurant, heart already racing. She was five minutes late. The kitchen was loud with pans clanging and orders flying. She ran to the time clock, signed in fast, and tied her apron while still walking.

One of the cooks popped her gum. “Boss wants to see you. Right now.”

Liora’s heart dropped. She walked down the short hallway to the manager’s office. The door was already open. She took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Cassidy sat behind the desk in a tight pencil skirt, hair perfect, looking like she owned the world. Because she did. This was her restaurant.

“You’re late,” Cassidy said without looking up.

“I’m sorry Cas, I—”

“What did you just call me?”Cassidy’s eyes snapped up.

Liora blinked. “I said I’m sorry Cas…”

“You call me Boss, not Cas. We’re not friends anymore, you dumbass.”

The words hit hard. “Sorry, Boss.”Liora looked down.

Cassidy stood up slowly and walked around the desk.

“You look like shit. Oh wait, that’s right. Troy dumped you yesterday.” She smiled sweetly. “In the most shameless way.”

Liora’s hands curled into fists at her sides. She stayed quiet.

Cassidy tilted her head. “Don’t get mad at me. It’s not my fault you were too boring to keep him.”

“Can I just get to work? I’m sorry for being late.” Liora breathed through her nose.

Cassidy’s voice got louder. “Oh, so now you think you can show up whenever you want and talk to me any way you like? Just because I used to be nice to you?”

“I said I was sorry—”

Cassidy slammed her hand on the desk. “You’re fired.”

Liora felt the floor shift under her feet. “What?”

“You heard me. Get your things and leave before I have security throw you out.”

Tears burned Liora’s eyes. Everything was crashing down at once. The cheating, the humiliation, and now this. This was her only source of income.

Cassidy smiled wider and held up her hand. A big diamond ring sparkled on her finger.

“By the way… Troy and I are getting married.” She twisted the ring so it caught the light. “Just thought you should know. Ex- best friend.”

Liora stared at the ring. Her chest felt like someone had punched straight through it. She couldn’t speak, in fact, she couldn’t breathe right.

Cassidy laughed softly. “You really thought he was going to stay with you? With your sad little night shifts and your boring personality? Please. He was mine the whole time. Now get out of my restaurant.”

Liora turned around slowly. Her legs felt heavy. She walked out of the office, past the kitchen where everyone was pretending not to listen, and grabbed her bag from the staff room. No one said a word to her.

She pushed through the back door and stepped into the alley. The sun was too bright. Her hands were shaking so bad she could barely hold her bag.

Fired. Homeless soon if she didn’t find something fast, and the man she loved for three years was marrying the woman who was supposed to be her best friend.

She leaned against the brick wall and let the tears fall.

After a few minutes she wiped her eyes hard with her sleeve. Liora started walking toward the street. She had no job, no boyfriend, no best friend. Everything was gone.

How can all this happen to just one person in one day.