SARAH

"And here’s your latte, Sarah."

Adam handed me the cup after giving Sam and James their drinks, but I just stared at it, my fingers unmoving.

A gentle nudge against my shoulder snapped me back, and I turned to see James watching me with worried eyes.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, his voice low, careful.

I nodded, quickly brushing my fingers through my hair as if that would smooth out the turmoil inside me.

"Yes, everything is fine." A lie.

I forced a small smile and finally took the cup from Adam. "Thank you."

Then, without a second thought, I tilted it back, swallowing the entire thing in one go, desperate for something—anything—to burn away the tightness in my chest.

The silence that followed was suffocating. I felt the weight of their stares, the unspoken concern pressing against me.

"Sarah…" Sam started, but I couldn’t do this.

I couldn't sit here, pretending I was okay, pretending that every inch of me wasn’t screaming.

Pushing back my chair, I muttered a quick excuse and rushed toward the restroom.

The moment I stepped inside, a woman passed me on her way out. My hands shook as I checked under each stall, making sure I was alone.

And then, when I knew no one was there to see—

I broke.

The sob hit me before I could stop it, my body collapsing against the cold sink as the tears I had been holding in spilled free.

I gripped the edges, my fingers aching with the force of it, but it was the only thing keeping me from sinking to the floor.

Why? Why was I crying?

I had no fucking clue.

Or maybe I did.

Maybe I knew exactly why, but I was too stubborn to accept it.

"I would like to cut off this contract."

My own voice played in my head, over and over, like a sick reminder of what I had just done.

I had said it. I had actually said it.

And it felt like hell.

It shouldn't hurt this much. It shouldn’t feel like I had just ripped out a piece of myself and handed it back to him.

But it did.

God, it did.

I lifted my head, meeting my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were red, my cheeks flushed, my lips trembling from the force of my own misery.

But all I could see was him.

Chris.

His face.

The way his eyes darkened with confusion, the way his jaw clenched as he tried to understand why.

I had hurt him. I had seen it, had felt the sting of it like a knife twisting inside me.

But I had no choice.

I pressed the heel of my palm against my chest, trying to smother the ache, trying to convince myself that I had done the right thing.

I had to.

Because if I didn’t?

If I let myself keep him—

A shaky breath escaped me as I fumbled for my phone, my fingers barely working as I scrolled through my contacts.

I pressed Alex's name before I could think twice.

She picked up on the second ring.

"Sarah?"

I swallowed hard, my voice raw, desperate. "Can I still get half of the money if I end the contract early?"

A beat of silence stretched on the other end.

Then Alex sighed. "Sarah… what happened?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the phone tighter. "Can I or not?" My voice wavered, betraying every ounce of control I was barely holding onto.

She exhaled again, softer this time, like she already knew the answer but wanted to hear me admit it. "You know the terms. You have to finish the full three months to get the full amount. If you break it now… you’ll only get a portion."

My stomach twisted. "How much?"

"Half."

Half is good. Half will be enough.

Even if it can’t cover everything, it’ll at least pay for James’ medicine. It’ll keep him comfortable in the hospital, cover some of the treatment—something.

That’s all I need.

That’s all I should need.

Alex hesitated on the line. "But I have to ask—what’s going on? Did my brother do something to make you act this way? If he did, I apologize, but don’t you think cutting off the contract is a little drastic?"

It is.

It really is.

But I had to do it.

I forced the words out, my throat burning. "Oh, no. Chris did nothing wrong."

A pause. "Then what’s the problem?" Her voice softened. "Is that why he’s not picking up my calls? Did you guys fight? I need to know, Sarah. What did he do?"

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

If anything, he was too good. Too perfect.

Every part of him—his eyes, deep and burning like they could see right through me. His smile, the rare one that made my heart stumble. His touch, rough and warm and meant for me, like he had no doubts at all.

Everything. Perfect. Too perfect.

He understood me when I never wanted him to.

He forced his way into my mind, my body, my soul—until I couldn’t breathe without feeling him there.

And it terrified me.

Chris wasn’t just someone I was supposed to be with for three months—he had already become so much more.

I felt it in the way he touched me, like he was memorizing me, afraid to lose me before he even had me. I saw it in the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t watching—like I was something rare, something precious.

He saw me.

And I saw him.

That was the problem.

He looked at me like I mattered. Like I was worth something. Like he wanted me—not for the contract, not for what I could give him, but for me.

And that’s what broke me the most.

Because I don’t deserve that.

His love—yes, love, because that’s the only word that comes close to describing what he’s given me—it’s too much. It’s too good.

And I am not.

I squeezed my eyes shut, a fresh wave of pain rolling through me. I could still see his face when I said the words. The way his expression shattered, how he didn’t even argue, didn’t even demand an explanation. He just—nodded.

And then he left.

God, I feel so pathetic.

I saw him, and he saw me. And instead of holding on, I ran.

But all I wanted—all I still want—is to chase him down. To throw myself into his arms, to beg him to forgive me. To kiss him until I can erase the look in his eyes from my memory.

I was afraid. Sinply afraid of what he made me feel. Afraid of how much I had already fallen for him and that’s why letting him go was the proper thing to do.

Instead, I feel like I just destroyed the best thing that ever happened to me.

"He did nothing wrong, Alex. It's just—" I started, but Alex cut me off, frustration creeping into her voice.

"Just what, Sarah?" she pressed. "I thought you guys were good. I mean, you were getting along as friends should."

Friends?

If I wasn’t already falling apart inside, I would have laughed at that. Friends? That wasn’t what this was. That wasn’t what it had ever been.

Alex sighed on the other end, her exasperation evident. "Okay, fine. Are you still sure about this?"

My throat felt dry, my fingers trembling slightly as I tightened my grip on my phone.

No.

I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure of anything except the fact that I missed him—that the moment he walked away, something inside me shattered.

But I had no choice.

I swallowed hard. "Yes."

"Alright then." Her voice softened slightly. "Does he know about this, or should I tell him?"

"He knows," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "He… he was with me when I told him."

A brief silence followed before Alex sighed. "Ouch," she muttered. "I guess he didn’t take it well, huh? It looked like he was really starting to like you."

I shut my eyes, gripping the edge of the counter for support.

I liked him too.

I liked him too much—more than I should have. More than I ever thought I would.

And yet, I let him go.

"I guess he did." My heart tightened more just thinking about him. "But you're send the money right."

Alex sighed. "Yes. I’ll send the half."

"Thank you." My voice cracked.

Another pause. "Can’t believe this is happening."

Me neither. "I'm sorry."

“No, it’s alright,” she said, her voice surprisingly gentle. “It’s your choice, and I respect that. I’m glad you told me now rather than dragging it out. Whatever your reasons were, I’m sure they were valid.”

Valid? Maybe. But falling for a client was never part of the plan. I had broken both Alex’s contract and my own rules.

“Yes, they are,” I murmured.

“I respect that,” she said again. “I guess I’ll see you around then? I’m still away with my man, so I can’t visit right now, but trust me—I will.”

She was still being nice to me. No resentment, no passive-aggressive remarks. I had expected her to be distant, maybe even criticize the way I handled my job. After all, I had claimed to be a professional.

“Thank you,” I blurted out. “Thank you for understanding, even when you probably should hate me right now.”

She chuckled. “Hate you? Come on, Sarah. Do I scare you that much?”

I didn’t answer, and she took that as confirmation.

“Well, I don’t hate you. Actually, I like you. You were fun to be around.” Her voice softened. “And, honestly? It was kind of entertaining watching you and my brother act like you weren’t falling for each other—even though he’s a handful to deal with.”

A broken laugh escaped me.

“But you stuck around,” she continued. “You got to know him. You put up with him. And for that, I’m grateful.”

A tear slipped down my cheek. I wiped it away quickly. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“You’re welcome, honey—oh, coming, sweetie!” A muffled male voice called out in the background, and I guessed it was her boyfriend. “Sarah, can we talk later? This time, I’ll be the one calling.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, good. Take care, and I’ll send the money soon. Bye.”

“Bye, Alex.”

The call ended. I exhaled, the weight of everything pressing down on me.

I turned to the sink, splashing cold water on my face, trying to erase the evidence of my breakdown. The door creaked open behind me, and a woman rushed past, disappearing into one of the stalls.

Taking that as my cue, I walked out, feeling like I’d left a piece of myself behind.

•••

The Uber pulled up in front of the apartment building. Sam and I stepped out, leaving Adam in the passenger seat.

“You’re not coming up?” Sam asked, glancing at him.

Adam shook his head. “No, love. I got a call from the office—they need me.”

She frowned, and he chuckled, reaching for her. “Come here.”

She leaned toward the open window, and he cupped her face, pressing a quick yet deep kiss to her lips before pulling back to peck her nose.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?” he said, smiling.

Sam blushed. “Okay.”

Then he turned to me, his expression shifting slightly. “See you soon, Sarah.”

I nodded. “You too.” All I really wanted was to collapse into bed and cry.

“Alright then, bye, my love.” He waved at Sam, then gave me a small nod. “Bye.”

Sam and I waved back as the Uber pulled away, disappearing down the street.

As we entered the building, Sam spoke up. “Oh, by the way… where’s Chris? I didn’t see him after he followed you out of the hospital.” She paused, glancing at me. “I wanted to ask earlier, but you seemed off. Did the doctor say something bad?”

“The doctor didn’t say anything bad…” I started, my voice tight as I kept my eyes on the elevator ahead. The doors slid open, and a group of people filed out. I stepped forward, hoping the conversation would end there. “He just said James needs immediate treatment and that we need to pay at least half of the money so they can proceed.”

“Oh, God.” Sam’s voice was heavy with concern. “But how can you pay so soon? You haven’t finished your contract—”

“I cut off the contract.”

She froze mid-step.

The words felt heavier saying them out loud, like they carried more weight now than when I told Chris. “I told him… I can’t continue with it.”

I didn’t dare look at her. Instead, I stepped into the elevator as two large men entered right behind me. The moment my foot crossed the threshold, one of them reached out and pressed the button, shutting the doors before Sam could step in.

“H—hey, wait!” Panic surged in my chest as I turned, trying to push past the man blocking my way. “She hasn’t—”

I stopped. My breath hitched as I finally looked at them—really looked at them.

Mr. Grey’s men.

My stomach dropped.

What are they doing here?

“The boss would like to speak to you,” one of them said, his lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You didn’t tell him you were back.”

I swallowed hard, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Was I supposed to?”

The other man chuckled, his broad shoulders shifting as he leaned in slightly. “Maybe not. But when you owe him… you don’t just disappear without a word.”

The walls of the elevator suddenly felt smaller, the air too thick. My hands trembled as I pressed them to my sides, forcing myself to stay still.

No.

Not now. Not when I was already falling apart.

The elevator hummed softly as it ascended, the numbers flickering on the panel above. My eyes stayed locked on them, silently counting down to the inevitable. My hands curled into fists at my sides, my nails pressing into my palms to keep them from trembling.

Breathe. Stay calm.

A dull chime rang through the small space as we came to a stop. The doors slid open.

“Ladies first.”

One of the men gestured toward the open hallway, his tone mocking, almost amused. The other loomed behind me, his presence a silent warning.

I hesitated.

“Come on,” he prodded, a smirk curling at the corner of his lips. “The boss has been waiting to see you.”

I wanted to scoff, to roll my eyes and pretend this didn’t shake me. But I didn’t. Instead, I forced my legs to move, stepping forward with slow, measured steps. The hallway stretched ahead, dimly lit, lined with sleek doors. The air smelled faintly of cologne and something artificial—like expensive cleaning products trying to mask the stench of smoke and liquor.

The moment I reached a particular door, one of the men stepped in front of me, his large frame blocking my path. He twisted the handle and pushed it open.

“After you,” he murmured.

The sharp scent of cigarette smoke hit me instantly, stinging my nose and making my stomach twist. I swallowed against the bitter taste it left in my throat and stepped inside.

The room was lavish, with dark leather furniture and heavy curtains that barely let any light in. The air was thick, humid, filled with the lingering musk of alcohol and something sickly sweet.

And there he was.

Mr. Grey lounged on a king-sized bed, the dim glow of a bedside lamp casting shadows over his face. His salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back, his expensive shirt unbuttoned at the collar. Two women clung to him, their barely clothed bodies draped across his like decorative accessories. Their lips trailed along his neck, their hands lazily exploring his chest as they giggled at something he whispered.

Disgusting.

I fought the urge to wrinkle my nose, forcing my expression to remain impassive.

One of the men stepped past me, moving toward the bed. “Boss,” he announced, his voice carrying a hint of smug amusement. “She’s here.”

Mr. Grey didn’t react right away. He exhaled a slow stream of smoke, letting it curl around his lips before he finally turned his head to look at me.

And then, he smiled.

The kind of smile that sent ice down my spine.

“Well, well,” he drawled, his voice rich with amusement. “Look who finally decided to show up.”

"Was this necessary?" I spat, though my voice held more defiance than the fear clawing at my insides.

Mr. Grey arched one of his white brows, the deep lines on his face shifting as he attempted a smirk. Instead, a dark chuckle rumbled from his throat.

"Why don’t you girls have some fun in the bathtub, hmm?" he murmured, pressing lazy kisses to the cheeks of the two women draped over him. They giggled, standing up with an exaggerated sway of their hips. Their blankets slid from their bodies, pooling on the floor, leaving them completely bare as they sauntered toward the bathroom. One of them glanced back at me with a knowing smirk before the door shut behind them.

And then his full attention was back on me.

"Of course, it was necessary," he said, groaning slightly as he pushed himself off the bed and sank into a sleek, high-backed chair nearby. His movements were slow, deliberate, like a predator toying with its prey. "I had my men check up on you a few months ago, but you disappeared. Just like that." He shook his head as if scolding a child. "I almost got the urge to ask that beautiful roommate of yours… Sam, is it? Such a pretty girl." His lips curled. "And those legs of hers look quite delic—"

"I traveled," I cut in sharply, the words rushing out before he could finish. "I went out of the country for a vacation. Is that a problem?"

His gaze darkened, amusement flickering into something colder. "Oh, it's not a problem, my darling," he murmured, his voice deceptively smooth. "You’re free to go anywhere you like. But…" He lifted a single finger, his expression hardening. The shift in his demeanor sent a slow, creeping chill down my spine.

"But first," he continued, his tone turning razor-sharp, "you pay for your father’s crimes before running off again. I don’t take kindly to missing money."

My breath hitched. "I—"

He held up a hand, silencing me with an effortless flick of his wrist. "I have been nothing but generous to you," he mused, leaning back in his chair as though recounting an old favor. "The best money lender you’ve ever had the privilege of dealing with. Hell, I even went to visit dear James in the hospital. Made sure he got his medicine, paid for his drugs out of the kindness of my heart."

He turned to his men, his smirk widening. "Aren’t I sweet?"

"You're the sweetest, boss," they chorused without hesitation.

I swallowed hard, my hands clenching at my sides as a slow dread settled in my chest.

"But kindness, my dear Sarah," he continued, tapping his fingers against the armrest, "is a luxury, not a habit. And you?" His gaze pinned me in place. "You’ve been testing my patience for far too long."

I forced myself to breathe evenly, to ignore the suffocating weight pressing down on my chest. "I haven't forgotten my debt," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "I'm working on it. I just need more time."

His smile disappeared.

"More time?" he echoed, his tone dripping with mockery. "You vanished for months without a word. Now you slink back, acting like I should be patient?" He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "You know, Sarah, I don’t like feeling disrespected."

My stomach twisted painfully.

"I—I wasn't trying to disrespect you," I hurried to say. "I had no choice. I needed to take care of things, but I never planned to run away. I swear—"

"Swearing is cheap," he interrupted, his voice turning icy. "I prefer actions over words."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his sharp eyes studying me like I was a puzzle missing too many pieces.

"My money, Sarah." Mr. Grey stood up, his voice was calm, but the underlying threat in his tone sent shivers down my spine. "Time's up. I need my money. Now."

My legs moved backward instinctively, searching for an escape, but the locked door behind me was a cruel reminder—I was trapped. One of his men had secured it earlier, the key now sitting snugly in his pocket.

Think, Sarah. Think.

I could try to fight, but with two hulking men standing guard, it would be pointless. If I kicked Grey where it hurt, they’d make sure I never tried it again. My heart pounded in my chest, my mind racing for an alternative—any way out.

Then I felt it.

His gaze.

Slowly, his beady eyes roamed over me in a way that made my stomach churn. His smirk deepened as if savoring my discomfort, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

I swallowed hard, dread pooling in my gut.

And then—his eyes stopped.

A flicker of interest sparked across his face as he squinted slightly.

I followed his gaze.

Fuck.

The engagement ring.

"Well, well," he mused, his tone suddenly intrigued. "Look what we have here."

Panic surged through me as I quickly hid my left hand behind my back, but it was too late. His curiosity had already taken root.

"You never told us you were engaged, Sarah," he drawled, stepping closer.

I was.

"It's not an engagement ring," I lied, but the words felt weak, useless.

Before I could react, his men were on me. One grabbed my wrist, forcing my arm forward, while the other yanked my other hand away from my body, ensuring I couldn’t resist. My legs kicked uselessly against the ground as I struggled against their iron grip.

"Let me go!" I shouted, my voice tinged with desperation.

Grey ignored me, his lips curling as he reached for my hand.

"My, oh my," he murmured, slowly sliding the ring off my finger.

Panic flared inside me.

"Please don’t take that!" I pleaded, my body twisting as I fought to free myself. "Please, I’ll get your money—I swear! Just don’t—"

A tear slipped down my cheek, the weight of everything crashing over me. How many times had I broken down today? My head ached from it, my body exhausted from the constant fear.

"Shhh."

Grey pressed a finger to his lips, silencing me with a smirk. "I just want to have a look."

He turned toward the nightstand, pulling out a pair of glasses. Slipping them on, he held the ring up to the dim light, angling it near the curtains.

Then he chuckled.

"This," he whispered, his eyes gleaming with triumph, "is a real fucking diamond."

His laughter filled the room, deep and satisfied.

"You, my dear, are so damn lucky," he said, rolling the ring between his fingers. Then, without looking at me, he added, "Your debt has been paid. Boys, release her."

The men let go of me, and I crumpled to the floor, my legs too weak to hold me up. My breath came in sharp, uneven gasps as I stared at him, disbelief paralyzing me.

The only thing I had left of Chris.

Gone.

And yet, once again, he had unknowingly saved me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Mr. Grey..." My voice trembled. "I'm... free?"

"Of course." He hummed, admiring the ring one last time before slipping it into his pocket. "I never blamed you for your father’s stupidity. That’s why I let you be for so long. But business is business, and now that you’ve paid your father’s debt..."

His lips curled into something sickly sweet.

"You still owe me for what I paid for your brother's hospital bills. But don't worry," he added, waving a dismissive hand, "you can pay me back... little by little."

My stomach twisted at his words.

I should have known. Freedom was never that simple.

"See? I'm being so kind," Mr. Grey murmured, stepping closer until his face was level with mine. His breath, laced with cigarette smoke and whiskey, fanned against my skin. "So now, you may leave or..." He paused deliberately, his lips curling into something twisted. "You could join me in the bathroom. I hear having women massage an old man like me makes them feel younger."

Disgust rolled through me, snapping me out of the numbness that had settled in my bones. My entire body recoiled, and I shot up from the floor so fast that I nearly stumbled.

Mr. Grey chuckled, clearly amused by my reaction.

With a lazy flick of his hand, he turned to his men. "Open the door for the lady."

One of them gave a curt nod and moved toward the door. Just as I was about to step out, Mr. Grey's voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Oh, and Sarah?"

I hesitated, my back stiff as I turned to face him.

"Make sure to tell your father I said hi."

My stomach twisted painfully.

I clenched my jaw, forcing my voice to remain steady. "I haven't seen my father in years, and you know it."

Mr. Grey let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as if he pitied me."Let me be generous for once—don’t worry, it’s for free."

At his signal, one of his men walked over to me, slipping a folded piece of paper into my hand.

I looked down at it, my pulse hammering.

"That," Grey continued, "is the address of your dear old dad. And don't worry—he's not too far from you."

His grin stretched wider before he turned and disappeared into the bathroom.

The moment the door shut, the sound of giggling women followed, their laughter muffled by the walls. Whatever disgusting thing he had just whispered to them, I didn’t care to know.

I looked down at the paper in my hand, my breath hitching as the words blurred before me.

My hands started to shake.

Dad?

I whispered the word like a prayer, like a curse, like something I had long since buried and wasn’t ready to unearth.

As I stepped out of the room, the world outside felt different.

He’s here?

I barely noticed as I stepped out of the room, the door clicking shut behind me.

My hands trembled as I unfolded the paper, my eyes scanning the address scribbled in ink.

My throat tightened.

"Dad?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He’s here?