Chapter 55

Chapter 55
Joanna's POV

I stared at my laptop screen, scrolling through job listings for what felt like the hundredth time this morning. The coffee beside me had gone cold hours ago, just like my enthusiasm.

Outside my cramped Bronx apartment window, the Saturday morning bustle continued without me.

It had been three days since I'd walked out of King Enterprises. The bills kept piling up on the kitchen counter—Mom's medical follow-ups, Tommy's school supplies, our rent. The weight of it all sat heavy on my chest, stealing my breath.

I rubbed my temples, trying to ward off the headache that had become my constant companion. 'You need to find something fast, Joanna. Daniel can't keep covering everything.'

My phone buzzed, making me jump. Monica's name flashed on the screen. I picked up, grateful for the distraction.

"Joanna!" Her voice came through, bright and energetic as always. "I found you a temp job! It's setting up a banquet hall for some fancy party happening in a few days. The pay is daily cash, and it's pretty decent. And you can also work as a server at the banquet that day. It's also paid daily."

I straightened up, suddenly alert. "Daily pay? Seriously?"

"Yep! My cousin's friend works for the event planning company. They need extra hands for the heavy lifting and decorating. It's not glamorous, but it's money in your pocket today."

Relief flooded through me. Monica always seemed to call at exactly the right moment. "That would be amazing, Monica. Thank you so much. You're always looking out for me."

"That's what friends are for," she replied, and I could hear her smile through the phone. "Be at The Grand Plaza Hotel at noon. Wear something you don't mind getting dirty."

After hanging up, I gathered my papers for the foundation, trying to organize my thoughts.

'Keep moving, Joanna. That's all you can do.'

---

The banquet hall of The Grand Plaza Hotel was massive. I stood in my plain work clothes, holding a potted arrangement of fresh flowers that felt like it weighed a ton. Sweat trickled down my forehead as I carefully carried it to its designated spot.

"This goes on table fourteen," the event coordinator had said, barely looking up from her clipboard.

I navigated through the busy hall, where other workers were setting up tables and chairs, hanging decorations, and arranging centerpieces. My arms ached from carrying flowers back and forth for the past two hours, but I kept thinking about the cash payment waiting at the end of the day. 'Worth it for Mom's medication.'

"Joanna? Need some help with that?"

I spun around so fast I almost dropped the damn thing. Ryan stood there in casual clothes—jeans and a simple button-down shirt—holding a small bag, looking as if he'd just been passing by.

"Ryan?" I blinked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

He smiled, that gentle smile that always seemed so genuine. "I was picking up some things from the pharmacy across the street when I spotted you through the window." He set his bag down and reached for the flower arrangement. "Here, let me help. That looks heavy."

I hesitated before nodding gratefully. "Thanks, Ryan. It actually is pretty heavy."

Together, we carried the arrangement to table fourteen. Ryan made it look effortless. When we set it down, he immediately went back for another pot without being asked.

As we worked side by side, I couldn't help but notice how naturally helpful he was. He'd done the same for Tommy, for my mom, and now for me—always showing up when needed, never making a fuss about it.

"Ryan, thank you for helping with Tommy at the hospital," I said as we positioned another arrangement. "And for checking on my mom. It means a lot."

He shrugged, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. "It's nothing, really. Tommy's a great kid. And your mom..." he paused, looking at me with something I couldn't quite identify in his expression. "She reminds me of my own mother."

I watched him, trying to figure out what was different. 'Is that fondness in his eyes? Or am I just seeing what I expect to see?' Ryan had always been kind, but lately, his attention seemed more focused, more personal.

'Don't be silly, Joanna. He's just being nice. That's who Ryan is.'

---

With Ryan helping, we got done way earlier than I thought. The event coordinator handed me my pay envelope with a curt nod, and Ryan and I walked out together into the early evening air.

"I should head back to the hospital to check on Tommy and Mom," I said, tucking the envelope safely into my purse. The weight of the cash inside felt reassuring.

"I'll walk with you," Ryan offered. "I'm heading that way myself."

We walked side by side down the street toward Manhattan Central Hospital, talking easily. Ryan told me funny stories about his patients, carefully anonymized but still entertaining.

As we approached a small alley near the hospital, a figure stepped out from the shadows, blocking our path.

My heart skipped a beat when I recognized Zayne King in his perfectly tailored dark suit, his face wearing that warm smile that now made me uneasy.

"Joanna, what a coincidence," he said, his tone light and casual.

Every muscle in my body went tight. The last time I'd seen Zayne was during the embezzlement scandal that had nearly destroyed Sebastian's reputation—a scandal I now knew Zayne had orchestrated, using me as his unwitting pawn.

I turned to Ryan, keeping my voice low. "Ryan, you should go ahead. I need to talk to him for a minute."

Ryan glanced between us, clearly unsure. "Are you sure?"

I nodded, and Ryan reluctantly continued walking, offering a polite "Hello" to Zayne as he passed. Zayne returned the greeting with his usual charm before turning his full attention back to me.

Once Ryan was gone, I turned to face Zayne, my expression going ice cold. "What do you want?"

"I came to apologize, Joanna," Zayne said, trying to sound sincere. "About the contract situation. I truly didn't know about the new agreement. I was just trying to help those residents."

I stared at him coldly, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "Apologize? Is that what you call it?" My voice was sharp with barely contained anger. "Why did you make such a public spectacle of it? You wanted Sebastian in jail, didn't you?"

Zayne's smile slipped for just a second before he caught himself.

"Joanna, I know you don't believe me, but I have my reasons." He paused, his eyes dropping to the ground. "Do you know what it was like for me growing up? Until I was three, my mother and I were hidden away, living a life in the shadows. When I was finally brought to the King family, I tried so hard to befriend Sebastian, but he always looked down on me, called me names."

His voice got quieter, and for a moment he actually sounded hurt. "I worked tirelessly to escape the 'bastard son' label, but he never gave me a chance. Never even looked at me properly."

For a brief moment, I felt a twinge of sympathy. The pain in his voice sounded genuine, and the story of his childhood isolation was touching.

But then I remembered Sebastian's face when he realized he'd been betrayed, and my resolve hardened.

I took a deep breath. "So that's your justification? Childhood resentment? Zayne, the Sebastian I know is direct, principled, and despite his cold exterior, fundamentally decent. Yes, he might have been cold to you, but that's because he has boundaries. You, on the other hand, used manipulation and lies to hurt him."

Something shifted in Zayne's expression when I defended Sebastian.

"And let me be clear," I continued, my voice gaining strength, "I appreciate the $500,000 donation you made to my organization earlier. I'll find a way to pay it back, and then we'll be even. You used me, and I won't let it happen again."

I turned and walked toward the hospital without waiting for an answer. I didn't look back. From this moment on, Zayne King and I were done.