Xavier didn't wait for the elevator doors to fully open before he was already moving into the foyer. The penthouse greeted him with a heavy, expensive silence that cost more than most people made in a year. He didn't look at the city lights through the double-height glass walls, tonight, the skyline was just a distraction.
He reached for his collar, yanking the tie loose and tossing it toward a sleek marble console table. His movements were frantically, impatient. By the time he hit the center of the living room,his shirt was unbuttoned. He pulled it over his head and let it fall onto the dark hardwood floor, not caring where it landed.
The master suite was a cavern of polished stone and shadows. He stepped into the glass-walled shower, the overheard rainfall stream hitting him at a temperature that felt like it could wash away the entire day.
Minutes later, steams followed him back into the main lounge. His skin was still damp, a dark towel slung low around his hips. He didn't bother with a robe. Xavier crossed the room, past the minimalist art and the built-in wet bar and let his weight drop into the oversized chair coal leather sofa. The leather was cool and firm. He leaned his head back against the headrest, staring up at the vaulted ceiling, finally letting the quiet of the 50th floor settle into his bones.
Soon, the door churned, a soft, electronic sound indicating someone had entered the penthouse. Xavier didn't bother moving, he stayed exactly where he was, already knowing who it was.
"You look like you went through a lot today," the mocking voice of filled the air. He leaned against the door frame, a mocking smirk playing on his lips.
Theon was dressed casually in shorts and an oversized shirt, but even in simple clothes, his presence was striking. He shared the same sharp, chiseled jawline as the man sitting on the sofa, a resemblance so strong one would think they were twins.
"So..." Theon continued, walking slowly toward Xavier. "How was our little bet today? Did you have fun? Or maybe you needed your mummy to come save you?" Theon pouted his lips, mimicking a crying baby in a mocking tone.
Xavier stared at him with a cold side eye before closing his eyes again, acting as if no one was in the room.
"Dude, you've got to talk to me. You lost the bet to me, remember?" Theon snapped.
"A woman slapped me today at the market," Xavier said calmly.
"What?!" Theon eyes widened in shock. He leaned in, searching his friend's face for any hint of a joke, but Xavier looked dead serious.
"I'm more serious than I've ever been. She slapped me," Xavier repeated, his hand reflectively moving to his cheek. He could still feel the sting, he could still remember the rush of adrenaline he felt when that "psycho girl" had struck him.
"Are-are you okay? Should we go to the hospital or something?" Theon asked, his voice bordering on a panic that felt half-mocking and half -genuine.
"I'm fine. I don't feel anything... which is the strange part," Xavier said.
"Wow,wow! This calls for a celebration! This is the greatest night ever!" Theon yelled out, clutching his stomach as he laughed.
"This is the worst night ever," Emily whispered to herself.
She stood before the mirror, her left hand pressed against her stomach while her right hand held up a pregnancy test strip. Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she stared at the strip showing two bright, unmistakable lines.
Now? She thought. I have to fight for my parents' freedom, and now I have to deal with this? She looked at the test again, feeling a wave of despair. Dis she really have to be pregnant for that scumbag whom she desperately wanted to escape from!.
Emily looked around her room, and for the first time, it felt too small, too fragile. The walls were made of thin bamboo slats and aging wood that creaked whenever the wind brushed against the house. Above her, the thatched roof held the heat of the day long after the sun had gone down. It was the kind of home she had grew up in, a place of memories, but as she looked at the worn floorboards and the simple mat where she slept, a cold knot tied in her stomach.
Is this where I'm supposed to raise a child? She wondered. She could almost hear the rain drumming against the thin walls during typhoon season. This was no place for a baby, not with Mike's threats hanging over her family like a dark cloud.
The room was dimming as twilight took over. Emily reached out and adjusted the wick of the glass lantern resting on the wooden windowsill. The flame flared to life, casting long, dancing shadows across the room. The smell of kerosene filled the air, mixing with the faint scent of salt and dried fish from her work earlier that day.
With a sudden energy, she began searching. She tossed aside a faded sarong and shifted a few old books until her fingers finally brushed the familiar texture of her black purse. She reached inside and pulled out the golden card.
She gripped the card so tight the edges pressed into her palm. She didn't have a choice anymore. This wasn't just a job lead, it was her only way out.
Emily's heart skipped as a sudden realization hit her. Louisa had been so excited about the card that she hadn't mentioned where this "Xaulit" was located or who actually owned it.
She grabbed her phone from the small wooden side table, her fingers trembling as she typed the name into the search bar. The signal in the province was always weak, and she began to pace the room hastily, her footsteps heavy on the creaking bamboo floorboards. Every second the loading icon spun felt like an hour. Finally, the page snapped into view.
Her eyes widened. The restaurant wasn't just a local eatery; it was a high-end establishment in the city, and to her surprise, it held a perfect, complete five-star rating. It looked untouchable.
If she was going to apply for a job like this, she couldn't go looking like a market vendor. She turned to the old wooden trunk at the foot of her mat. Digging past her daily cotton skirts and faded shirts, her hands found a layer of soft tissue paper. She pulled it back to reveal the one fancy dress she still owned—a piece she had bought for Mike's family that she fortunately never sold.
The morning came much faster than Emily could have ever imagined. She stood in front of her small mirror, fully dressed and determined.
"Are you sure you want to go through all this trouble, darling?" her mother's voice sounded out from the kitchen, accompanied by the familiar clink of metal spoons. "The city is far from here. You could just stay and sell your home-cooked meals instead."
Emily paused. She still hadn't told her parents about Mike's threats or the pregnancy. She needed to make sure there was something stable, a real foundation for her before she worried them with the truth.
"I can't continue my home-cooking forever, Mama," Emily said, walking into the kitchen and taking a seat at the worn table. She took a slow sip of the tea her mother had brewed for her, using the warmth to steady her nerves. "I need to get something much higher for myself. For all of us."
"Okay, fine. Have breakfast first, then. You need a full stomach for today," her mother said, already reaching for a plate.
Emily looked at the food, but her stomach swirled unpleasantly at the smell. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to stay composed.
"I'm okay, Mama. I feel... nauseous, so I'll skip breakfast."
Emily stood up and gave her mother a lingering kiss on the cheek. She adjusted the strap of her black purse, feeling the sharp edges of the golden card inside, and set out for her journey. The morning air was cool, and the dusty road ahead was her only path out.
**** ***** *******
The city was a mess of glass and tall buildings that seemed to go on forever. As Emily stepped off the bus, the sheer size of everything made her feel small.
She stood in front of the XAULIT building, tilting her head back just to see the top. It was a massive tower of shiny steel and dark windows that caught the sun so hard it made her squint. It had to be dozens of stories high—a place so tall the air probably felt different at the top.
Standing there, a bitter memory hit her. Right after she married Mike, her life had stopped. She spent every single day stuck in that big mansion with nothing to do but wait for a man who didn't even care about her. She was just something he showed off until the money ran out and they had to move to the province. She had wasted her youngest years on him, and now that she was finally away, she was pregnant. But she wasn't going to let that stop her. She was going to find herself again.
She walked through the sliding doors and felt a blast of cold, expensive-smelling air hit her face. The lobby was huge, all white stone and quiet. Her footsteps sounded loud as she walked across the floor.
She went up to the front desk. It was a long, black counter that looked like it cost more than her parents' house. The girl sitting there looked about Emily's age, maybe in her twenties. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and her suit was perfectly pressed. She didn't look like she had ever worked a day in the sun.
"I'm here for the kitchen job," Emily said, putting the gold card on the counter.
The girl looked at the card, then up at Emily. Her face changed for a second—she looked surprised, maybe even a bit annoyed. "Write your name and number here," the girl said, sliding a clipboard over. She didn't sound friendly. "The cooking test is tomorrow morning at eight. We're looking for someone fast who knows how to handle flavor. Don't be late."
"Thank you," Emily said. She wrote her details down with a steady hand, handed the paper back, and turned to leave. She was so focused on the door that she didn't see the girl behind the desk narrowing her eyes, watching her with a look that said she didn't trust Emily at all.
As Emily walked toward the exit, she saw a person near the elevators. Her heart jumped into her throat.
It was him. The jerk from the market.
He wasn't wearing that flashy suit anymore. He was in plain clothes, looking like any other worker. A janitor? she thought. He acted like he owned the world and yelled at that poor kid, and he's just a janitor here? It made sense to her now—he was probably just a mean guy taking his own stress out on people who had less than him.
Their eyes met for a second. The man stopped moving, looking shocked to see her, then his face turned into a hard scowl. Emily didn't say a word. She didn't even nod. She just looked at him for a moment, then walked out into the heat. She had a job to win, and she wasn't going to let a guy like him get in her way.