"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."

I was trembling with nerves.

Earlier, I had almost thrown my pride away when I called Attorney Fontanilla. Now, all the courage I'd managed to gather seemed to have evaporated. I had to admit it. I was nervous. I didn't even know if what I was about to do was right... or if I was making a terrible mistake.

I let out a deep breath and glanced around, half-expecting him to arrive at any moment. He had told me over the phone that he was busy and couldn't promise he'd make it. That was why I was surprised when, an hour ago, he sent a message saying he'd come and talk to me himself.

I knew the address I gave him must've raised questions. But this was the only place I could think of... somewhere we could talk without drawing attention. I mean, who would seriously discuss a legal case in a bar? With the noise, the crowd, the music... no one would suspect a thing.

I pressed my heel against the floor and fidgeted with my fingers. I didn't know why I was this anxious. This was my idea in the first place. And if I didn't do this, there was a good chance they'd never give my money back.

"Miss Clemente."

That familiar voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I stiffened in my seat, suddenly unable to lift my head. I swallowed hard and bit my lower lip trying to hide how shaken I was.

Why was he here?

When I finally forced myself to look up, my breath caught the moment our eyes met.

"I-I thought Attorney Fontanilla was coming?"

I wanted to slap myself for stuttering. I wasn't like this. I didn't back down just because a man intimidated me. I was just... caught off guard. I had expected to speak with his uncle and definitely not him.

Because why the heck is Dylan Fontanilla standing in front of me?

He didn't answer. He simply stared at me. I refused to look away. In the end, he was the one who broke eye contact first.

That was... intense.

To my surprise, he sat down across from me and raised a hand to signal the waiter. Instead of responding to my question, he ordered a drink. I was about to look away when he glanced back at me.

"You want one?" he asked calmly.

I frowned. Was he seriously offering me a drink? Were we even close enough for that? I shook my head and lowered my gaze to the table. His eyes followed and that's when he noticed the half-empty bottle beside my shot glass. He shrugged and repeated his order to the waiter.

When the waiter left, he leaned back in his chair, looking bored.

"So," he said, "what's the problem?"

"I don't mean to offend you," I replied carefully, "but I asked to speak with Attorney Fontanilla-"

"You mean you wanted to meet a married man alone in a bar," he cut in, glancing at the alcohol between us. "Nice try, Miss Clemente. Really."

My vision darkened for a second as I understood what he was implying. I pressed my tongue to my cheek and looked away, quickly forcing myself to calm down. It hadn't been long since he found out his girlfriend cheated on him. Maybe the feeling was still raw. Maybe that was why he was acting like this.

I took a deep breath and looked back at him.

"I have no intention of becoming a mistress," I said firmly. "I just want to talk to him about my father's case. That's all."

I caught the flash of irritation in his eyes and gave him a small, tight smile. That only seemed to annoy him more. I straightened in my seat.

The waiter returned with his drink and asked if I wanted another bottle. I shook my head. Getting drunk wasn't part of the plan. I'd only had a drink earlier to calm my nerves.

I watched him silently as he poured his drink. Three bottles sat on the table. I raised an eyebrow.

"I thought we were here to talk about my dad's case," I said. "Why does it look like you're planning to get wasted?"

"I'm off duty," he replied coldly. "I came because I didn't want my aunt thinking my uncle was cheating on her."

I rolled my eyes.

"I already told you. I'm not interested in your uncle. I just want to discuss my father's case. Not everything needs a hidden meaning."

Annoyed, I poured myself another shot and downed it in one go.

"I'm not into older, married men," I added, meeting his gaze as I drank.

He scoffed and shook his head.

"You're unbelievable. Why invite my uncle to a bar at this hour just to talk about a case?"

"Because I have to," I snapped, slamming the glass onto the table. "Just because I asked him to come here doesn't mean I want him."

"My uncle is married-"

"Did I ever say he wasn't?" I cut in sharply. "I said I wanted to talk about my dad's case. That's it. Did I ever say I was interested in him? You're the unbelievable one here. Being a mistress is pathetic and you should know your uncle better than that. He's a good man, right? Why would he cheat on his wife?"

He scoffed again and took a sip.

"Anyone would think the same if you suddenly asked them out. And of all places... here. Don't play dumb, Miss Clemente. If you think we'll just drop your father's case, you're wrong."

I laughed softly and shook my head, folding my arms across my chest.

"Fine, I get how it looks. But couldn't you at least ask why first? I was going to explain. If his wife is worried, she can come too. I don't have any bad intentions toward your uncle."

He didn't answer right away, just studied my face. I leaned back, oddly calmer now... maybe the alcohol was finally kicking in.

"Then why here?" he asked after a moment.

I shrugged casually.

"I live here."

His brows immediately pulled together. I raised an eyebrow back, waiting. He took another drink.

"I live here now," I continued. "So I figured, why not? It's convenient, and no one would suspect anything. My father and aunt don't want me testifying. If they see me meeting with your uncle somewhere obvious, they'll stop me. But here? No one would assume we're talking about a case. They'd just think we're drinking."

"Why are you here?" he interrupted suddenly.

He unbuttoned two buttons of his shirt while staring at me, and my throat tightened.

"You said you live here. Why?"

"I-I left home," I said, grabbing my glass. "Why? Is that a problem? I sleep on the third floor."

"And why did you change your mind?" he pressed. "You said before you wouldn't testify. You chose silence. Why speak now?"

I shrugged.

"I need money. My dad and aunt took everything from my bank account. I have nothing left-"

"So what," he cut in sharply, "you're a prostitute now?"

My eyes widened in shock. I stared at him, waiting for him to laugh and to tell me it was a joke. But he didn't. He was dead serious.

I swallowed hard and looked away.

"Why do you even care?"

"I'm a lieutenant," he snapped. "It's my job."

Of course.

I shook my head before meeting his gaze again.

"So what if I am?" I asked boldly.

His bloodshot eyes locked onto mine, sending my heart racing. I swallowed but didn't look away.

"What-"

"Why are you asking?" I challenged him. "Planning to buy me?"

He sighed deeply and rubbed his temples, finally looking away. I smiled faintly, thinking he'd backed down.

But then he looked at me again. 

My breath hitched under the weight of his stare.

"What if I say yes?" he asked quietly.

"How much for one night, Miss Clemente?"

I froze.

I waited for him to laugh. To say he was kidding.

But he didn't.

He just stared at me, eyes cold and steady, waiting for my answer.

I swallowed.

Hard.