Chapter 5 Chapter Five
On the bus ride into the city, Becky leaned her forehead against the window. Morning light streamed through, turning the tall buildings outside into hazy shadows.
Her thought twisted in circle—the shame of last night’s encounter in the cigar room, the heavy guilt still clung in her skin, and the flickering image of an another man’s eyes in the garden.
Thomas.
She wished she had his number. She wish she could tell him everything, spill it until the weight lifted from her chest, and hear him say it would be okay.
Wishes don’t pay bills, she told her self firmly.
Becky clench her jaw. She couldn’t fall down. Not now.
Maybe she could make it work—the office work during the day and the club during the night. If she could handle both, if she could push her body and mind far enough, she’d will be out of debt in no time. Then she will finally breathe again, maybe she’ll even live a life she wasn’t shame of.
A fresh start. A future.
Becky closed her eye and whispered into the ratted of hum of the bus, “Tomorrow, I’ll find another way. I have to.”
When the bus screeched to a stop, she gathered her folders of document to her chest and stepped into the morning bustle. The city loomed around her, she could see the sun rising.
Her stomach tightened as she neared the towering office complex. It looked nothing from the word she came from. Expensive cars lined up in neat row—sleek black sedans, glossy sport cars, SUVs with tinted windows, Becky adjusted her blouse and skirt, her cheap shoe clicking against polished pavement.
Inside the reception, a woman with perfect hair and a polished smile greeted her. Becky tried to mirror the warmth, through the nerves filleted in her stomach.
“You must by Miss Becky White,” the receptionist said.
“Yes, I am,” Becky answer, steadying her voice.
The woman made a quick call and motioned for Becky to sit. The chai was soft, the marble floor shiny, the ceiling trimmed with gold. Everything around her gave wealth and power. Becky sat at the edge of her seat, feeling like she didn’t belong.
An assistant appeared moments later. “Please come with me.”
Becky followed after her, heart pounding as the elevator door slid shut. She straightened her skirt, eyes fixed on the numbers climb. The ride felt endless, though only seconds passed before the doors opened again.
The assistant led her down a hushed corridor and stopped at a wide door.
“Inside.” she said flatly.
Becky drew in a shaky breath and stepped in.
The assistant led her down a quiet corridor and stopped at a wide door.
“Inside.” She said curtly.
Becky took a deep breath and stepped in.
Her heart lurched.
Behind the desk sat a man she wish she never saw again.
The cigar room. The cash. The way he’d looked at her like she was nothing more than a service to be bought.
“Good morning sir” she said anxiously.
He looked up to see who it was. “Oh wow, it’s you.”
He leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “You really don’t remember me?”
Her throat went dry. “I…I do.”
“Good.” He said, rising smoothly. His eyes shinned with a sly grin. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten about our little arrangement.”
Becky clutched her folder tighter. “This is supposed to be an interview.”
“Oh it is.” He strolled closer, his cologne heavy in the air. “But interviews can take many forms. I just thought you could finish what you left undone last night.”
Her ch3est constricted. “I’m here because I applied. My CV. My cover letter—“
He chuckled, cutting her off. “Sweetheart, the papers don’t matter. What matters is whether you’re willing to keep me satisfied. That’s the real test.”
Becky stepped back, shaking in her knees “I can’t….I’m not here for that.”
“You could be.” he murmured, his eyes trailing down her body. “For the right price.”
Her stomach twisted, She thought of all the responsibilities she had left back home. Her mother’s medicine bottles, scattered like little soldiers on the night stand. The rent notices piling up. The empty wallet in her bag.
Her voice trembled. “Please I just need this job.”
“And I just need you to prove you’re worth it.” His tone sharpened, cruel and smug. “We both get what we want.”
Tears stood at the corner of Becky’s eyes. “For my mother.” She whispered, almost to herself.
His smirk widened. “That’s better.”
He shut the door behind her.
The rest blurred. Becky forced herself still, shutting down as she gave in. Her mind tried to fight it, but her body complied. She held on to the memory of her mother’s happier days, clinging to the hope that this pain will one day fade.
When it was over, she snatched up her folder and rushed to the door.
“Don’t forget.” He called after her, voice dripping with triumph. “You belong here—as long as you play by my rules.”
Becky didn’t look back. She stumbled into the elevator, breath uneven, her reflection in the mirrored walls a stranger to her.
By the time she stepped outside, the sun was fully out, shining. She blinked hard, swallowing the tears that burned her eyes.
Her feet carried her farther from the glass tower, the shiny cars, the world that had already chewed her up.
“For mum” she whispered, clutching her bag with a trembling hand. “Just for Mum.”
On the bus home, Her thoughts swirled. The shame of what she’d done. The faint, dying hope of maybe now her mother’s suffering would ease.
Her phone buzzed in her hand. She glanced down, It was a message from Bardi.
The message read: Are you alright? I’ve been worried since you left with Red last night and I didn’t hear from you.
Becky’s breath hitched. The bus blurred around her, her reflection wavering the glass.
And finally—finally—she broke.
Silent sobs filled her as she covered her mouth with a trembling hand. Becky had pleaded with her to stay away from that life.
Hot tears slid down Becky’s cheeks as the city lights smeared into streaks outside the window.
She pulled her knees close, whispering the only words she could: “I’m sorry Bardi. I’m sorry.”
Another text came in. It was from the assistant that led her to the office.
Assistant: You’ve gotten the job! Can you resume Monday?