Ch. 21..25: Chapter 21-25

CHAPTER 021: Immunity

I lean back in my chair, forcing myself to stay calm. My face gives nothing away, but I feel the tension coiling in my muscles, especially in my jaw. The silence stretches between us. Even the hum of the air conditioning feels deafening, and the ticking of the wall clock

sounds like gunfire.

The nerve of Ryan O'Brien to come at me with a question like that. I take a deep breath. No way am I letting him see me lose it. Not now.

I let my body relax, settling deeper into my chair. When I finally speak, my voice is calm. Too calm.

"I've read about you, Mr. O'Brien," I say. "Harvard, right? Top of your class in Business Administration. And what was it? A Master's degree in International Economics? Impressive." I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes just a little. "Tell me, at what point during all those years of education did they teach you it's okay to ask your business partner a question like that?"

Ryan's face remains neutral, but there's something in his eyes. Smugness? I'm not sure, but it's there. He leans forward slightly, his smile icy. "Since we're on the subject of education, Lucas," Ryan says, "I've also done my research on you. Degrees in Strategic Management, accolades from top financial institutions, and a few awards here and there, right?" He pauses for effect, letting the tension build. "At what point in your illustrious career did you learn it's okay to fuck your business partner's wife?" 'chuckle, shaking my head. "I wasn't aware there was an anti-fraternization policy in your company. Correct me if I'm wrong, but... aren't you sleeping with your secretary?"

His smug expression falters for just a second. He doesn't answer right away, and that brief silence tells me everything I need to know.

""It's different," he says.

"How so?" I raise an eyebrow. "Enlighten me."

"I'm the boss. The rule doesn't apply to me."

I nod slowly, as if considering his words. "Interesting logic. So by that reasoning, Julie-being the head of your marketing department, one of the highest-ranking positions in the company-is also a boss. Wouldn't that give her the same immunity you have?" Ryan's face darkens. "You think you're so damn smart, don't you?"

I raise a hand, cutting him off.

"Hold on. I wasn't finished." There's an edge to my voice now, a sharpness I want him to feel. "Let's look at this from another angle. My company put billions into this partnership with yours because, according to you, we're going to 'skyrocket together.' And I agreed, because I believe in the numbers. But here's the part you conveniently left out of the deal." I pause, watching his face grow tighter. "My company is saving yours from bankruptcy. Which means, according to your logic, I'm a boss here too. Therefore, I have the same immunity."

Ryan's knuckles are gradually turning white as he grips the edge of his desk.

"I don't have the time nor the patience for this back and forth," he growls. "I'm asking you, man to man, to leave my wife alone."

CHAPTER 021: Immunity

I lean forward, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Man to man, I'm going to have to politely decline

your request."

"You think you've got everything figured out, don't you? But let me ask you something. Where's your wife, Lucas? She left you, didn't she? You're so good at getting everything to work out in your favor, everything falling down before your feet... except your marriage." The jab hits harder than I expect, but I don't let it show. I just sit there, listening as he takes his shots.

"Unlike you," he continues, "some of us actually value the sacred bond of marriage. I don't intend to fall. Julie and I? We're going to stay married. Right up until death do us part."

I smile. "Let's hope you live long, then, Mr. O'Brien."

"Are you threatening me?"

I laugh, short and cold. "Did it sound like a threat? My bad. I must be slacking in my communication skills. Because if I wanted to threaten you, Ryan, here's what it would sound like." I lean in, my voice dropping to a whisper. "The next time you pull me out of my busy schedule to discuss something as stupid as this, Il will terminate whatever contract we have. And when I do, I will take your wife with me." Ryan's face flushes with anger. "You think I can't survive without this deal? Fine. Shove your partnership up your ass."

I chuckle. "Let's not be hasty. You've forgotten one important thing. Your precious company is family-owned. So, why don't you call your retired mom and dad, see what they think about you throwing away their legacy?"

That hits home. Ryan's face pales, and I know I've got him now.

I lean back in my chair. "Here's how this is going to work. You keep your ancestors' company afloat, and I'll make sure we don't hit any icebergs. But leave Julie out of it. If she wants to sail to the moon, the only thing you're required to do is buy her a ticket. Nothing more. Nothing less. Have all the girlfriends you want. Do whatever you like. The least you could do is give that woman a chance to be happy. I promise you, I'll take great offense at her unhappiness. I hope we're clear on this, Mr. O'Brien?"

Ryan sits back, his face tight with barely contained rage. But he says, "Crystal."

I rise from my chair. "I guess this is the part where we say our goodbyes and see you soons.

He forces a smile. "Of course. See you at the next strategy meeting."

I head for the door, but just before pulling it open, I pause, turning back to him. "If I may, there's something that's been bothering me. During our conversations, you made mention that Julie's friends are your friends, right?" "What's the point of this, Lucas?"

"I'm curious," I say. "How many friends do you think Julie has?"

He blinks, confused. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"How many?" I press.

"I don't have time for this," he snaps. "Just leave, please."

CHAPTER 921: Immunity

"Oh no, you need to hear this. In case you don't know, the answer to that question is zero. Julie doesn't have friends anymore. And do you know why?" I step closer. "Because the one friend she had for years is too busy fucking his secretary." Ryan's face is stony. "If you're quite done, Lucas..." he begins.

I cut him off. "It's Mr. Martinez to you now."

With that, I turn and walk out, slamming the door behind me.

 

CHAPTER 022: Brooklyn Bridge ~~Julie~~

I'm home early, lounging in the living room, pretending to flip through a fashion magazine. But my focus keeps drifting to Emily. She's sprawled out on the yoga mat, twisting her body into impossible poses that make me question if she's made of rubber rather than bone. "Doesn't that hurt?" I blurt out, unable to stop myself. There's no way a human being can bend that far without something snapping.

Emily chuckles, glancing over her shoulder at me without breaking her stretch. "Actually, it feels freeing." She turns her head just enough to offer a mischievous smile. "You should try it. Might help you loosen up."

I snort. "Yeah, right. I'm in my thirties. My body doesn't do... that," I gesture toward her, "and I'm perfectly happy keeping all my joints intact, thanks."

Emily slowly untangles herself from the pose and shifts into another, making it look as effortless as breathing. "Age is just a number, Julie. You're only as old as you feel."

I flip a page in the magazine, pretending to read. "Then must be ancient, because there's no way I'm doing that."

"Suit yourself."

Just then, my phone buzzes. I glance down and see my mother's name flashing on the screen, and immediately, my stomach tightens. This can't mean anything good.

I take a deep breath, already bracing for whatever new drama she's about to unload. "What now?" I answer, skipping any kind of greeting.

"Step out of the house," my mother says. "Meet me at Brooklyn Bridge."

"Brooklyn Bridge?" I echo. "It's eight o'clock at night, Mom."

"Do you have a curfew, Julie?"

I sigh, knowing there's no point in arguing. "No."

"Then get off whatever couch you're glued to and meet me there," she snaps, hanging up before I can respond.

I stare at the phone in disbelief, then lower it slowly. "Great," I mutter, tossing the magazine aside.

Emily glances up from her yoga mat, her curiosity piqued. "Everything okay?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" I push off the couch, grabbing my keys and stuffing them into my pocket.

I head for the door with an uneasy feeling in my gut. Whatever this is, it's not going to be good. But when has anything involving my mother ever been good?

The cool night air bites at my skin as I step out of my car, parking at Brooklyn Bridge Park. I glance at my phone, checking the coordinates my mother sent, and follow the directions, each step accompanied by the steady hum of traffic and the occasional blare of a horn. 1/3

CHAPTER 022: Brooklyn Bridge

It feels like I've been walking for ages when I finally spot her. She's standing at the edge of the bridge, facing the water, her back to me. Even from a distance, I can tell she's dressed impeccably, like she's on her way to some black-tie event. Only my mother would step out of the house looking like she's attending a gala at this time of night.

I stop a few feet away, watching her for a moment. She looks so calm, almost serene, like she's lost in thought. But I know better than to be fooled by appearances. This is just the calm before the storm. "What's this about, Mom?" I ask, my voice tight.

She doesn't turn around immediately, her gaze still fixed on the water below. When she finally does, her eyes sweep over me, pausing on my tracksuit and flip-flops. "You came out of the house in that?" Of course, the fashion critique. "I'm not in the mood for a lecture about my wardrobe choices. Why am I

here?"

She turns back to the water, her voice soft but edged with something sharp. "Isn't the view beautiful? The lights, the height... the water. It's incredible, isn't it? You know, people rarely survive a fall from here." "Can we get to the point, please?"

She sighs, her tone shifting to something more dangerous. "What were you thinking, getting yourself a boyfriend?"

i blink, caught off guard. I should have known this was Ryan's doing. "What does it matter to you?"

Her head whips around, her eyes narrowing. "What does it matter? Ryan isn't just your business, Julie. He's the family's business. Do you have any idea how much he's done for us? He pays our bills, he's even covering my trip to Rio this December. You think this is just about you?"

Anger boils up in my chest, rising fast and hot. "I'm not responsible for how you manage your life, Mom. And I'm certainly not entertaining your opinions on my marriage."

She laughs, shaking her head. "You really don't get it, do you? Men cheat, Julie. It's what they do. You need to accept it and move on. Stop being so naive."

I stare at her, my fists clenching. "It's the 21st century, Mom. I don't have to accept anything. I'm not going to conform to your outdated, patriarchal rules just because you think I should."

"I've lived a lot longer than you, Julie. You don't know anything. You think you're so smart, but you're just a naïve little girl playing dress-up in the real world."

My jaw tightens. I can feel the words bubbling up before I can stop them. "If knowing anything means becoming you, then thank God I'm ignorant. I love Dad, but even I know he was a piece of shit, chasing every woman that crossed his path."

The slap comes out of nowhere, sharp and stinging across my cheek. We both freeze.

I stare at her, my cheek burning, my mind racing. She doesn't move, doesn't say anything. But I can see it in her eyes-the fury, the disappointment, the expectation that I'll crumble, apologize, beg for forgiveness. don't. "Fuck you," I say.

I start to turn away, but I barely make it a step before her hand shoots out and snatches my arm. Her grip is like steel, her fingers digging into my flesh with a strength I never knew she had. It hurts.

CHAPTER 022: Brooklyn Bridge

"Let me go!" I snap.

My skin burns where her fingers press. I try to pull away, but she yanks me forward instead, dragging me closer to the railing at the edge of the bridge.

A fresh wave of panic surges through me.

"Mom, stop!" I say, louder now, but all I get in response is her cold, unwavering stare. I try again, pushing at her with my free hand, but she doesn't flinch.

The edge of the bridge comes closer with each step she forces me to take. I glance over my shoulder, down at the dark water far below.

"Let me go," I say again, but the words sound small, powerless.

She pulls me even closer to the railing, her face close to mine, her breath brushing against my cheek, warm and smelling faintly of wine.

"If you don't promise me you'll make things right with Ryan," she whispers, "I swear I'll push you off this bridge, and no one will ever find you. And after you're gone, I'll unleash your younger sister on Ryan. She'll be the perfect little wife you never were."

CHAPTER 023: Do It

As I stand here, trapped between my mother's vice-like grip and the dark water below, a long-buried fear claws its way up through me. Every inch of my body wants to twis away, run from this hellish, familiar grip. But it's like being eight again, clinging to the hope that it's different this time, that she'll look at me with something other than contempt. "Let me go," I say. But her nails dig deeper into my skin

"Not until you make that promise."

My blood turns to ice. It's crazy because, at the same time, I want to laugh at how absurd this is. My own mother is standing here, threatening me on a bridge like something out of a thriller. But looking into her eyes, I know she's dead serious. Several memories can attest to that. Those cold nights when she'd shove me outside, locking the door from the inside because I'd dared to spill milk on the kitchen floor or did some other silly thing she deemed punishable. I'd stay there for hours, curled up on the floor, listening to her pace back and forth, shouting that I'd learn discipline even if it killed me.

And somehow, I survived. The trick is to always make her think she won.

"Mom," I try again, "please, you're hurting me. Just let me go..."

"Oh, grow up, Julie," she spits. "All these years, you've whined, cried, done nothing but bring shame on this family. And now, finally, when you have a husband-one that matters, one that actually makes you worth something-you can't even do that right." She pulls me so close I can smell the faintest hint of her perfume. "You're pathetic. And the craziest thing is, somehow, you've managed to charm Ryan into thinking he loves you. The man is obsessed with you. I don't know what he sees. I have five children and a good number of grandchildren, and yet you don't have any. But he's still here, fighting to keep you. Calling me like a maniac to talk sense into you. I don't know one man who could do that. For god's sake, what the man wants is a child. Let him have it. Let him fuck the entire world. At the end of the day, he's still yours. Stop pissing him off."

The words are like a slap. In that moment, I realize the name of the feeling I've had for my mother all these years. I wasn't sure of it before, but I am now. It's hatred. I hate her. She isn't going to break me, not

anymore.

"Do it." I say, staring her down. "Push me off. You'd be doing me a fucking favor because then I'd never

have to see your face again."

Her eyes widen, and I feel her grip loosen.

I see her for what she is-a sad, cruel woman with nothing left to hold over me. I've spent years seeing her as a monster, but right now, she looks so small.

"What are you waiting for?" I ask. "Push me off."

She gapes at me, mouth open as if to shout, but the words seem to catch in her throat. She yanks me back toward the railing, face twisted in fury. "You ungrateful little-" "Hey!" a voice calls from nearby.

We both turn around, and I see three figures jogging toward us, alarmed.

"What are you doing?" one of them shouts.

CHAPTER 023: Dolf

475 BONUS

My mother's grip finally breaks, and I stumble back. My heart hammers, but relief surges through me as the strangers close in.

"Is everything okay here?" one of them asks, a tall man with a firm look in his eyes.

My mother, always quick on her feet, smooths her dress. "Of course. I was simply...talking with my daughter."

The man looks at me, his gaze questioning, and I meet his eyes with a calm I didn't know I had. "She's lying," I say. "She was trying to push me off the bridge."

"Julie!" she says. "What nonsense! I was just having a conversation with you-tell them, tell them we were just talking!"

The man holds up his hand. "Ma'am, I think we'd better call the police."

"No!" She shrieks, taking a frantic step toward me. "You don't understand-she's my daughter! This is a private matter. We were just sorting out a family issue. Julie, tell them."

I stare back, the years of silence, of shame, boiling to the surface. "You're no mother of mine. I hope they throw you in jail and lose the key."

"Julie...you know you don't mean that," she tries again, her voice softer. "You're not thinking straight right now, sweetie. We can go home and hash this out, can't we? We're family." "Family? A mother doesn't threaten to push their own daughter off a bridge, Mom. You're sick. And I'm done."

I can see her scrambling, her eyes darting around, probably looking for an escape route. "Don't be dramatic, Julie. We can talk this through like adults."

"No, we can't. You don't get to manipulate me, scare me, control me, not anymore. We'll wait for the police. I'm going to enjoy every minute of watching them take you away.

She hisses. "You think you're so high and mighty? After everything I've done for you, you dare talk to me like this? I'm not afraid of you! You're nothing, you hear me? You're nothing without me!"

The flashing lights of a police car appear at the end of the bridge, and her face pales, panic flashing in her eyes. "Julie, please," she whispers, desperation creeping into her voice. "We can fix this. We just need to talk. Tell them this was a misunderstanding." But I feel nothing, just a hollow calm. I turn in the direction of the approaching car, already preparing a statement in my head.

While driving home, I keep replaying my mother's words over and over in my head, and I grip the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles pale. The closer I get to the house, the more angrier I become. And by the time I pull into my driveway and see Ryan's car parked, I throw my door open, ready to bring the house down.

Ryan's already waiting, his tall silhouette highlighted by the dim porch light.

"Julie!" he says, stepping forward as soon as I reach the porch. "What the hell happened? Your mother just called from the police station. Asking to use my lawyer."

23

CHAPTER 023: Dolt

I stop, letting my gaze roam over Ryan from head to toe. I take in every detail-the way his jaw is set, how his hands twitch. I try to steady my own breathing, to unclench my fists, to drain the fire scorching my insides. But the anger is a living thing, clawing to get out, and the more I look at Ryan, the harder it is to keep it contained.

I step forward. When I'm just inches from him, close enough to feel the heat of his breath, I say, "Did you instruct my mother to throw me off a bridge?"

CHAPTER 024: A Baby Elephant Takes Its First Steps

"What?" he says.

I repeat, "Did you tell her to throw me off Brooklyn Bridge?"

He looks at me like I'm speaking in tongues, his mouth opening and closing, grasping for words. "Julie, I...

I'd never do that. What are you even talking about? Your mother said you attacked her."

My jaw drops. "Attacked her?"

"Wasn't that what happened?"

"She tried to throw me off the bridge, Ryan! What language have I been speaking?"

His face falters. He steps forward, trying to reach for my hand. "Julie, I'm sorry... I didn't know-'

I yank my hand back. "Sorry? You don't get to be sorry, Ryan. Sorry implies you care. And if you did, you wouldn't have sent that witch to me in the first place. You know how much I despise it when you do that. Yet you do it every time to piss me off. Is this one of your kinks? You somehow get off on pissing me off?"

"Please, Julie," he murmurs. "I know how much you're hurting right now. I know how scared you must have been on that bridge, fighting for your life. But please, let's talk about it. Think of the press-if you press charges, it's going to be all over the news, and it won't help anything. We'll all just look bad, and then we'll have to do damage control for the company

My blood freezes. "The company? That's what you're worried about?"

Emily comes out of the house right then, her gaze shifting between me and Ryan. "What's going on?"

I and Ryan both speak at the same time.

"This is between Ryan and me. Go back inside-"

"Julie's suing her mother-"

I look at Ryan. My whole body feels like it's one wrong breath away from exploding. "What the hell?"

"Julie," he whispers, stepping forward. "Come on... you know she wouldn't have gone through with the threat. You've said it yourself several times that your mother is a bully. That's all she is. Nothing more."

A wounded laugh escapes my lips. I have to close my eyes for a second, count to five, because if I don't, I might start screaming. And the crazy part? I'd probably never stop. But his voice grates at me like sandpaper. She wouldn't have gone through with the threat? Is he serious? "Oh, I know she would, Ryan. ! was there. I was the one gripping the cold metal of the bridge, praying I wouldn't feel her hands shoving me off. I was the one who almost got a mouthful of icy river water."

"I'll talk to her," he says, like those words are supposed to make it all vanish. He steps even closer, reaching out again. "I swear, I'll fix it. Set her straight."

I step back. "Fix it? There's no 'fixing' this, Ryan. And don't insult me by pretending that you'll try. We both know what you'll do. You'll excuse her behavior, sweep it under the rug, and hope I forget. Well, surprise- I'm not forgetting. Not this time." "Julie. You're letting your emotions cloud-"

CHAPTER 024: A Baby Elephant Takes Its First Steps

"Oh, I'm emotional, am I?" My voice rises. "Good. I'm glad. Because I am emotional about this. And you... you should be too. That's what normal people do, Ryan. They care when their wife almost dies."

"I do care, Julie. I'm just trying to look at this reasonably. Because what's pressing charges going to do? You know the media-if this gets out, it'll be everywhere. They'll twist it until we're painted as lunatics."

"So, you'd rather protect her than defend me? And don't you dare say it's for my sake or that you're doing this to save me from public scrutiny. I don't care what anyone else thinks, Ryan. I know what happened. I know who she is."

He lets out a breath, runs a hand over his face. "Fine. You want me to hate her? To burn bridges with your mother? Is that what you want, Julie?"

I hold his gaze for a while. And then I turn on my heel, storming past him into the house.

Behind me, I can hear Ryan following.

"Julie, wait." His voice has lost that arrogant edge; it's softer, almost pleading, but it only fuels my anger further. I don't turn back, don't give him the satisfaction of a glance, nothing. I just keep walking straight to my bedroom, and on reaching there, I bolt the door behind me.

grab an overnight bag from the closet, my movements sharp and swift.

Ryan's footsteps stop outside the door, and then I hear the tentative knock. "Jules...darling. Talk to me. Come on, please."

I ignore him, yanking open drawers and tossing clothes into the bag. Every fiber of me aches to scream at him, to let him feel every ounce of the betrayal, the pain, the pure exhaustion he's forced me to carry. But I'm done talking. I don't want words; I don't want apologies; I want space, miles of it, oceans between us.

"Julie," he says again. "Just... come out, okay? Let's figure this out. I didn't mean what I said out there. You know I'd do anything for you, please..."

Still no response. I zip up the bag, and then I take a breath, bracing myself as I walk toward the door. I grip the handle and twist it open, and there he is, standing just outside, his eyes wide with desperation.

I don't stop. I brush past him, my focus fixed on the front door at the end of the hallway. His hand reaches out, catching my arm gently, but I pull free.

"Where are you going?" he asks, reaching for my suitcase.

I shove him back with a strength I didn't know I had. "To my boyfriend's," I say.

He recoils, his face darkening, as though I've slapped him. "I beg your pardon?"

I continue talking, driving the nail deeper. "I'm going have sex with him all night, Ryan. In every room. Then

I'm going to call in sick for days and let him make me forget every single miserable moment I spent in this godforsaken house."

His eyes widen in horror, but I continue anyway.

"We're going to start off in the kitchen, fucking on the counter while we cook breakfast. Then we'll move to the living room, have another round on the couch. After that, we'll head to the bedroom and make use of every single piece of furniture. The bed, the dresser, the desk... hell, I might even take him in the shower just for kicks."

CHAPTER 024. A Baby Elephant Takes Its First Steps

"Stop it!" His voice is hoarse, his face crumpling as he steps back. "Just stop talking, please. I know you're angry. I know you're trying to hurt me-

I laugh, a hollow, brutal sound. "Hurt you? That's rich. Do you even know how much I hate you right now?"

"Come on..." He steps forward, close enough that I feel his breath, close enough that for a split second I think he might try to kiss me. He reaches for me, his hands resting on my shoulders, his forehead brushing mine. "What do you want me to do? Leave your mother in jail? If that's what it takes, I'll do it. Just.... Stop breaking my heart."

I feel myself waver, just for a second, my eyes meeting his. The word 'alright' is already on the tip of my tongue-but then I remember that he was ready to let her go, ready to cover it up, worried about the press, worried about the company.

"I'm going to count to ten," I say. "If your hands are still on me when I get to ten, I'm going to set this house on fire."

He just stares at me.

"One..." I count. "Two... Three... Four..."

His breathing is getting sharp, jagged. "Julie, stop-"

"Five... Six... Seven..."

Panic flashes across his face.

"Eight... Nine..."

CHAPTER 025: You Have No One $25 BOARS

Just as I say "Ten," I see Ryan take a reluctant step back. Soon enough, I notice it's not entirely by his choice. Emily's fingers are wrapped tightly around his arm, pulling him away from me. Her face is set in a hard line, eyes blazing with an expression I can't name Ryan tries to shrug her off, but Emily holds him firm, blocking his path.

"Emily," he says, "What the hell are you doing? I've told you so many times not to involve yourself in these fights. Let me handle Julie."

Emily doesn't budge, doesn't look away. Her voice is cold, quiet, but beneath it, there's a fire bubbling up, one I've never seen from her before. "That woman," she says, eyes fixed on him, "just survived a near-death experience. Do you really think she won't go through with her threat? That she won't burn this entire house down if she wants to? I have properties worth a lot scattered all over this place, Ryan. You're not going to make her light them up. Do yourself some good and calm the fuck down."

Ryan's face slacks, his shoulders dropping. He stares at her, stunned. She might as well have slapped him. For the first time in a long while, he's silent. It's Emily, of course, his precious Emily. What else would he do?

As they stand there, their backs half-turned to me, I feel something strange rise in my chest. They've both been eating away at my life, piece by piece, turning it into something I barely recognize, and now when I look at them, I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. I've been so stupid. So, so stupid.

"If you're quite done with your ted talk," I say, "could you step aside? You're both in my way."

Ryan doesn't move. His eyes bore into mine, searching for something I refuse to give him. For a second, I fear he's going to speak, start another fight as usual, but he just stands there, silent and brooding. It's Emily who eventually pulls him away, giving me the space I need to walk through. I can feel their gazes on my back as I head down the hallway.

I'm almost at the door, my hand on the handle, when I hear Ryan's voice behind me. "Are you actually serious? You're leaving? Where in the world would you go? You have no one, Julie. No friends. I'm the only person who gives a shit about you. So if you leave me, where the hell will you go?" His words stab at my chest, each one laced with poison. "I bet your siblings won't accept you either, not after you've put their mother in jail. You're on your own, Julie. Completely and utterly alone. Turn back now while you still can." I can't lie, it hurts to move. But I walk anyway. I don't stop, don't even turn my head.

When I reach the door, I slide my hand into my handbag and pull out my car keys, letting them drop to the floor with a metallic clink. I do the same for my ring, struggling to get the diamond band out through my. fingers. It bounces once on the floor before settling, and I turn just enough to look over my shoulder.

"Here," I say. "The keys to the Bentley you bought me as well as the diamond ring you've caged me with for years. Give them to your mistress. I'm sure she'll appreciate the gesture."

I step out into the cool night air, pulling the door shut behind me.

I can't remember the last time I was in an Uber-definitely months ago, maybe longer-but here I am, staring out the window, having my first breath of fresh air in months. New York at night, dark and electrified, is the only thing I've missed since my college partying days. It feels surreal, like the city itself

Cute Your

is waiting for me, like it knows I've been holding my breath for this.

The cab comes to a slow stop at the curb

"Ma'am," the driver says, pulling me away from my thoughts. "We're here"

I see the sleek glass front of the hotel lobby. The driver catches my eyes in the rearview mirror, his brow slightly raised as he waits for me to make a move 1 nod, forcing a polite smile, and pull out some bills from my purse.

"That's... way over the fare, malam," he says, as 1 hand them over to him.

"Keep the change," I tell him, pushing the door open without waiting for his response.

I can hear him shouting "thank you" behind me, but I don't look back. I'm already moving toward the revolving doors, letting the warm lights of the hotel beckon me in,

The lobby, as expected, is mostly deserted at this hour stride over to the front desk, eyes fixed on the sparkly chandelier above the receptionist's head.

The receptionist, a young woman with impeccable makeup and a nametag that reads 'Angela', looks up with a smile. "Good evening Welcome to The Marion Hotel. How may I assist you tonight?"

I'd like a room, please," I say,

She taps a few keys on her computer, the screen casting a glow on her face. "Certainly, ma'am. Will this be for one night or-"

"Let's do a week for now." I pull my debit card from my wallet and place it on the counter, the sleek metal glinting against the light. "Of course,"

Angela picks it up and slides it through the reader, her eyes flicking between the screen and the card. I watch her face, waiting. But then, she frowns, her lips pressing into a thin line as she tries again. And again. "Is something wrong?" I ask.

She gives me that practiced smile that receptionists are known for, the one where they smile extra brightly when things are falling apart. "It's just the card. It keeps declining."

"Try again," I say. "It's probably the service-it can be a little unreliable sometimes I force a casual laugh, though it sounds hollow even to me.

Angela looks at me for a moment, something uneasy flickering in her eyes before she gives a tight nod and tries the card once more. Then, she clears her throat, her face apologetic but still cautious. "The card is declining, ma'am. It's... it's not due to network issues." ""What is it then?"

"Security restrictions," she says.

"Security what?"

There's an uncomfortable pause before she responds. It means that the account this card belongs to has