"You're n-not Dylan's girlfriend?"

I arched my brow and lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug. "Do I look like his girlfriend?" I said, deliberately sarcastic. I noticed her expression darken at my answer, but I brushed it off like it didn't matter.

"Danielle, I already told you... that's not Brielle," the other woman scolded. If I wasn't mistaken, she was Maurice Fontanilla. I'd met her once before. I was close to her mother.

Danielle clicked her tongue, clearly irritated. "How was I supposed to know? They look alike!"

My brows shot up at that. I cleared my throat, drawing their attention, then straightened and pointed at myself. "Are you saying I look like Brielle Clarkson?" I asked as disbelief dripped from my voice.

"You know who Dylan's girlfriend is?" Iverson Fontanilla asked as if he's studying me carefully. I met his gaze without flinching.

I shrugged again. "Of course. Your family's well-known, and Brielle Clarkson's from a business family too. I know who she is," I said, then looked away.

"W-We're really sorry, Miss," Maurice began nervously. "Our cousin was furious, so she thought you were Brielle. You just kind of look like her-"

"Excuse me?" I cut in dramatically, snapping my gaze back to her. "I look like Brielle Clarkson? Absolutely not."

I swept my hair back and let out an exaggerated sigh. This wasn't the first time people had said that. Even coworkers mentioned it sometimes. Sure, we looked a little alike. But no. Hard pass.

"I'm way prettier than her. Come on. Are you all blind?" I rolled my eyes.

They exchanged looks before shaking their heads and laughing quietly. My brows knitted together. "Are you laughing at me?" I challenged them, since they didn't seem to be stopping.

To my surprise, Danielle, who had been glaring at me earlier, tapped my shoulder while laughing like I was some kind of stand-up act. What the hell?

"No, no... don't be offended," she said between laughs. "You're right. Guess my eyesight really is bad."

That, at least, made me feel a little better.

I cleared my throat and fixed my posture. "As it should. That was an insult, you know."

If they hadn't been furious at that woman, they probably would've thought I was full of myself, but I was just telling the truth. I'd known Brielle Clarkson since high school. I was a freshman; she was a junior. I knew how she was back then, and from what I'd seen over the years, she hadn't changed at all.

I shook my head. Dylan Fontanilla was unbelievably unlucky. His girlfriend already had a terrible personality, and she still cheated on him? Damn. When misfortune rained down, he must've been standing right under it.

"Anyway, I should get going," I said, glancing at the house they'd been ringing for a while now. "I noticed she's not letting you in. She's inside, probably just avoiding you. I saw her come home this morning while I was jogging."

They all turned toward the house.

"If she won't open the door, we could just throw a rock at the window-" Danielle started.

"Danielle," the others cut in at the same time.

I sighed and crossed my arms. "There's a back entrance. She used it this morning. There's a spare key hidden under the smallest plant pot."

Maurice frowned at me. "I'm sorry to ask, but... how do you know that?"

"I saw it while jogging. She probably thought no one was around and got careless," I explained calmly. "Don't worry, I'm not a thief. I live in this neighborhood too."

I hadn't spoken to Brielle much despite living nearby. She rarely went out. I'd only noticed the key by accident.

"Then why help us?" Iverson asked. "You could get in trouble if we do something bad."

I looked up at him. His expression had shifted as if he was serious and intent. Like he genuinely wanted to know. Was he suddenly interested in me?

I shrugged. "You said she cheated on your cousin, right? Whatever you do, she deserves it. Cheaters need consequences."

I smiled sweetly.

He didn't reply after that, just looked away. I couldn't help chuckling.

"Well, I'll be going. Good luck with whatever you're planning," I said. "Make sure she gets what she deserves."

I winked, turned, and walked off.

I hadn't gone far when Danielle called after me. "Wait! what's your name? You never introduced yourself. Maybe we could hang out sometime."

A soft laugh escaped me. I didn't expect that.

I shrugged over my shoulder. "Nah. I don't think my name matters. Let's just keep it a mystery."

I flagged down a cab shortly after. I was curious about what they were going to do, but not curious enough to stay. Besides, I had bigger problems. Like where I'd be staying the next few days.

Right on cue, my phone buzzed. Aziel had sent an address not far from where I was. I considered walking, but it was getting dark, and I was alone.

Before getting in, I caught sight of the cousins heading toward the back of the Clarkson house. Not that I cared... I just hoped they wouldn't do anything illegal. I didn't want to get dragged into it. At least they didn't know my name.

I showed the driver the address and settled into the seat. Only then did I finally breathe out.

I leaned back, staring out the window.

As much as I thought the Fontanillas were decent people, I knew they'd never be comfortable around me. Iverson's father, Attorney Damon Fontanilla, was the prosecutor in my father's case. I met him last month. He seemed kind... though I didn't know if it was genuine or just an act to get me to testify.

Either way, I didn't care.

What mattered was that my father went to prison.

And Dylan Fontanilla, the eldest cousin, was the lieutenant handling the case.

I shook my head, cutting off my thoughts.

I still couldn't believe Brielle cheated on him. For what reason? He was practically perfect. No wonder his cousins were furious.

"Ma'am, we're here."

I snapped out of my thoughts and looked outside. This was the bar Aziel mentioned. It looked... nice.

I paid the fare and stepped out. The place was brightly lit, already busy despite the night. My brows furrowed.

Was I really supposed to sleep here?

I straightened and walked toward the entrance... only to be stopped by a guard.

"Sorry, ma'am. No minors allowed."

I looked at him flatly. "Do I look like a minor?"

To my disbelief, he nodded.

My eyes widened. Me? A minor?

"I'm twenty-six. I've graduated college. I'm not underage," I said, keeping my voice calm.

He scanned me anyway, then shook his head. "Do you have an ID?"

I sighed and opened my purse. Then I  froze.

"Shit," I muttered.

"I need to see your birthday, ma'am."

I closed my purse slowly and looked at him apologetically. "I... left my ID at home."

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you in without one. I don't want to lose my job."

I stomped my foot lightly, frustrated, running my fingers through my hair. Going back home meant another lecture. I couldn't go to Aziel's either.

"I know I look young," I pleaded, "but I'm not. I just forgot my ID. I even know the owner-uh-what was his name again?"

I frowned, digging through my memory. "Ugh. I forgot."

Why hadn't I listened earlier?

"I know her."

That voice.

I turned around instantly and my eyes widened.

It was him.

"She's a minor," he said coldly. "Don't let her in."

"What? I am not a freaking minor!" I snapped.

He raised a brow. "You look like one."

Then he walked past me and disappeared into the crowd.

Before he vanished completely, he glanced back just for a second. There was something in his eyes. Anger? Or was I imagining it?

My lips parted.

Was he angry at me?

"Oh. Right," I muttered. "He got cheated on."

I clenched my fists as I turned away.

"Dylan Fontanilla," I whispered bitterly, "you really are trouble."

"I was so humiliated, Aziel. Damn. I don't think I've ever felt that kind of embarrassment in my entire life," I complained as I rushed out of the house.

Aziel let out a deep sigh on the other end of the line. "You don't even know how to feel shame," he muttered.

I stopped walking and forced myself to breathe.

"Okay, fine. I've buried shame somewhere deep in my system a long time ago but last night was different. I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. Do I really look like a fucking minor to you?"

I slid into my car and glanced back at the house. It looked quiet. Aunt Aurora was probably still asleep, so I wasted no time pulling away before she could wake up and stop me again.

I started the engine, rolled down the window, and gestured for the guard to open the gate. They complied reluctantly. As if they had a choice.

I placed my phone on the holder and switched it to speaker.

"You just look really young-"

"Wow, Aziel. Wow," I cut in sharply. "Thanks for the fucking compliment."

The gate finally opened, and I drove out. "I'm twenty-six years old. How exactly do I look underage?"

"The guard was just doing his job. What can you do if that's how you look to him? And you should've brought your ID. If you had-"

"I forgot it at home, okay?" I snapped. "I was in a rush. I didn't even think to check my wallet. And I didn't expect anyone to think I was a kid. I was so embarrassed. People were staring at me last night."

I drove faster than I should have.

"And then some random guy walked up to the guard and said he knew me. He even told him I was a minor so the guard completely shut me out!"

Aziel burst out laughing.

I rolled my eyes. "If my humiliation is entertaining to you, then screw you."

He laughed again. "Maybe you were just unlucky yesterday."

I didn't reply. Because he was right. I was unlucky.

Was it karma for helping those people do something questionable? But why me? I didn't trespass. I just helped.

"When I got home, Aunt Aurora was still awake. She lectured me again, said I'd just come crawling back anyway, so I shouldn't have acted stubborn in the first place. She even said I wouldn't survive without her or Dad. The audacity."

My grip tightened on the steering wheel.

If Dylan Fontanilla had just told the guard I wasn't a minor, I wouldn't have had to go back home at all.

"What if they're right-"

"Finish that sentence and we're no longer friends," I cut him off immediately.

He sighed. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I know you can survive on your own. So where are you going now?"

I sighed. "Where else? The bar you mentioned. I'm going back there and proving to that guard I'm not a minor. I can stay there as long as I want, right?"

"Atlas won't be home for a while, so you can stay there. Just don't cause trouble, Kaia. I haven't fixed the mess I got myself into yet. I can't help you if anything happens. Stay out of trouble."

I hesitated.

Does that include staying away from Dylan Fontanilla?

"Fine," I muttered. "And when exactly is this mess of yours going to end? You didn't know that woman already had a boyfriend. This isn't your fault... it's hers."

"I don't know what to do anymore," he said, frustration seeping into his voice. "Neither my dad nor her father will listen to me. I was dragged into this bullshit-"

"Then do your best to stay out of it," I cut in. "I'd hate for my friend to be labeled as the other man."

He scoffed.

I shook my head. I couldn't even give him advice. I had zero experience with situations like that.

"I'll come see you once everything settles down," he said. "For now, just stay out of trouble. I'm warning you, I won't be able to help-"

"Yeah, yeah," I interrupted. "I'm close to the bar. Isn't it weird going to a bar this early in the morning?"

He chuckled and I felt a bit lighter.

"I already told Atlas to inform the staff you're coming. They won't be surprised if you show up early."

I groaned. "Can you also tell your cousin to give their guard a raise? He did his job well even if he mistook me for a minor."

"You were pissed earlier, and now you want him promoted. You're weird... but fair. I'll pass it on."

I nodded even though he couldn't see me.

I parked at the bar and grabbed my phone and keys. I took my suitcase from the trunk and ignored the few curious stares as I walked in with my head held high.

A guard stopped me but it wasn't the same one from last night.

I smiled. "Do I really look like a minor?" I asked, amused.

He cleared his throat and nodded.

I let out a small laugh and pulled out my ID. His eyes widened when he checked it.

"You're... twenty-six?" he asked, clearly surprised.

I chuckled. "Do I look seventeen?"

He scratched his head, embarrassed. His gaze dropped to my suitcase. "Ma'am... this isn't a hotel."

"Atlas already gave you a heads-up," I said. "I'll be staying in his room for now."

His eyes widened again. "You can call him to verify-"

"No need," another staff member said. "We just assumed Kaia Clemente was older."

I blinked.

Was he implying my name sounded old?

Before I could respond, he smiled and handed back my ID. "Your room's ready."

He took my suitcase without asking.

Inside, the bar was too quiet. Staff members were cleaning up from the night before. The smell of alcohol lingered, making my head throb.

"Your room's on the third floor," the guard said.

I nodded but my attention drifted.

Two waitresses and a waiter were trying... or let's just say, failing... to wake a man slumped over a table.

I licked my lip  then laughed softly.

Of course.

What a coincidence.

"I'll head up later," I said. "Third floor, right?"

"The room at the far end."

I nodded and walked toward the man instead.

Each step felt heavier. The staff were still trying to wake him.

"Sir? It's morning now."

He didn't move.

I sighed.

"Excuse me."

They all turned to me.

"I'm the one staying in your boss's room," I said calmly. "And I know him."

"Is he your boyfriend?" one waitress asked.

I smiled but didn't answer. "I'll handle him. You can go back to work."

They hesitated but they still left.

I stepped closer.

"Aziel told me to stay away from trouble," I muttered. "But you're really unlucky."

I reached under the table for his coat because his phone was probably there.

Suddenly, his arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me down onto his lap.

My eyes widened as he rested his head on my shoulder.

He smelled strongly of alcohol.

I held my breath and grabbed the coat. His phone was inside.

As I tried to stand, he tightened his grip.

"Bri..." he murmured.

That was enough.

I stood up abruptly. He nearly face-planted into the table.

I clicked my tongue.

Is this what heartbreak does to people?

I found his cousin's contact and typed instead of calling.

To: Iverson (Ugly)

Your cousin's with me. He passed out last night and is still asleep. He's at the bar near his cheating girlfriend's house. He smells like alcohol and I can't stand it. Pick him up before I leave him outside. Bring an air freshener.

I looked at Dylan Fontanilla one last time.

"Get up," I said quietly. "You still have a lot to do, Lieutenant. She's not worth your tears."

Then I walked away.

The past few days have been fun... at least in my definition. Nights blurred into parties, mornings turned into afternoons, and sleep became optional. I liked that kind of chaos. But like everything else in my life, it didn't last.

I shot up from my seat as rage surged through me.

"What do you mean I can't use my own money?!" I shouted into the phone.

I rubbed my temples as panic clawed its way in as I paced back and forth across the room while listening to my father's lawyer drone on from the other end of the line. I had only found out that morning when I tried to withdraw cash to buy a bag, that my account had been completely frozen.

Zero access.

Zero explanation.

What the hell?

"Miss Clemente," the lawyer said calmly, "your father claims that money belongs to him. If that's the case, it will be used to post bail-"

"That money is mine," I snapped. "What is he talking about? Did he suddenly forget that he was broke long before I ever was?" I laughed bitterly while shaking my head. "I worked my ass off for that money. That was my savings."

I yanked at my hair in frustration. What was I supposed to live on now? I couldn't even talk to Aziel! When I tried calling, his father answered. I knew then that reaching him was impossible.

I couldn't live like this. Like a nobody.

"Miss Clemente, I'm simply following your father's instructions-"

"You took my money," I cut in sharply. "How do you not understand that? You're a lawyer, but you're acting like an idiot. How did you even get my account number-"

I froze.

"Fuck," I muttered. "Did Aunt Aurora go through my things at the house? That's illegal."

My stomach dropped. I'd left my journal in the drawer. Of all the things I could forget, why that? My passwords were written there. Every single one.

"Even if you claim it's yours," the lawyer continued, "there's no guarantee. If the money came from your father, then it may be tied to the funds he allegedly embezzled-"

"So you're admitting he's guilty now?" I cut in coldly. I straightened up, my voice steady but lethal. "Tell my father this: if my money isn't returned within twenty-four hours, he's not going to like what I do next."

"Miss Clemente-"

"I will not let him steal the money I worked for," I said, my voice shaking with fury. "I will fight back. Against him. Against all of you. Think very carefully, Attorney. I'm not afraid of anything."

He tried to speak again. I ended the call.

I dropped onto the couch, my hands trembling. I wasn't crying because I was helpless, I was crying because I was furious. What kind of idiot leaves something that important behind?

I had no money.

None.

I worked in the Senate after I graduated. I quit because of my father. I couldn't continue as a political advisor when my own father  was drowning in corruption. He ruined my career and now he'd taken my savings too.

"That was my money," I whispered as I stared at my bank app. Still zero.

Fuck.

The lawyer didn't even bother calling back. That alone told me everything.

My hand curled into a fist.

They were really testing me.

I dialed Aunt Aurora's number. I had blocked her weeks ago because she wouldn't stop calling. Guess she got tired of begging and decided to steal instead.

"Hello-"

"Thief," I cut in coldly. "Who gave you the right to take my money?"

There was silence. Then she laughed.

My anger spiked. "Don't laugh. Give my money back."

"I told you before, Kaia," she said mockingly. "You can't survive on your own. You need us."

I scoffed. "Is that why you stole from me? No... you need me. If you didn't, you wouldn't have touched my money. I've never stolen from any of you. I can stand on my own."

"You'll come back," she replied smugly. "One day you'll realize you can't live without us-"

"I can take care of myself," I shot back, gripping the phone so hard my knuckles turned white. "Why are you so obsessed with me? Just let me go. I want to live my own life-"

"But you can't live without money," she interrupted and started laughing like a damn psycho.

"I left quietly. I moved out and let you support my father however you wanted. You want the house? Take it. You want to defend a guilty man? Fine. Can't I live in peace? Can't I stay away from your family's mess-"

"Ours," she corrected sharply. "No matter what you do, you're a Clemente. You're part of this whether you like it or not. Don't act innocent like your cheap mother."

My jaw clenched.

"My mother is not cheap," I said through my teeth. "Say another word about her and I won't hold back anymore."

"Stop pretending, Kaia. Your mother left you because she didn't love you-"

"She left because she couldn't stand you," I screamed. My vision blurred but I refused to let the tears fall. "Don't blame my mother. You're the reason she walked away. Because you're all horrible."

My lips trembled. Rage flooded my chest. It was thick and suffocating. I was seconds away from exploding.

"You know me," I said quietly as I wiped my tears.

I took a deep breath forcing myself to calm down. "And you know I can be a bitch."

"Don't threaten me," she sneered. "If you're cruel, I'm worse."

I laughed.

"You're right. You raised a bitch. And now she's a monster. You clearly don't know me anymore. You want a war? Fine. I'll give you and my father one. And remember this... don't ever mess with me again."

I ended the call.

I stood up slowly and faced the mirror. Fire burned in my eyes. Rage stared back at me.

They wanted a fight?

Fine.

I wasn't going down that easily.

Once my breathing steadied, I picked up my phone and dialed another number. It rang several times before he answered.

"Hello? Who's this?"

I swallowed, eyes still locked on my reflection.

"Is this Attorney Damon Fontanilla?"

I paused.

"I want to testify against Senator Clemente."