Lana's POV
When Lana got to work, she wore her coffee uniform and began scrubbing down a table near the entrance when the bell over the door jingled.
She looked up and saw it was Mr.Dennison, the landlord.
He strode in like he owned the place, which he did. He was a small, balding man. His eyes roamed the empty shop.
Morning, sweetheart," he said, his voice low and oily, as he walked toward her.
Lana forced a polite smile, hoping he'd say his piece and leave. "Good evening, Mr. Dennison. We're not open yet, but is there something I can help you with?
"Oh, I'm sure you can help me in so many ways," he said, his voice low.
Lana straightened, trying to keep her voice steady. "Is there something you need?
He was smirking, a glint of satisfaction dancing briefly in his eyes as he leaned in, far too close for comfort. "Just thought I'd check in. Heard you were having a tough time keeping up with rent here. That's no good for business, you know?"
Lana's discomfort turned to alarm. "That's really something you should discuss with the manager," she said. But Dennison only followed, reaching out to brush his hand down her arm.
"Why don't we keep this between us?" he murmured. "I could make things a lot easier for you here if you're willing to… show some appreciation.
Lana jerked her arm away, her anger surging into her chest. "I don't know what you think I owe you, but you're way out of line, Mr. Dennison."
His face darkened. "Is that so?" he sneered, his face twisting up into a sneer. "I'd watch your mouth, little girl, because a lot of things around here can change for you real quick.
The minute Lana turned to walk away, he snatched her wrist with a grip that was tight. Automatically, she twisted to free herself, only for him to yank her back, the hand adjusting to her shoulder, drawing her close as he leaned into her.
"Just remember who's in charge here," he whispered, his fingers piercing into her skin.
Lumping all thought into action, Lana raised her free hand and pressed hard against his chest in desperation to be away from him.
In an instant he swung his hand out to slap her-a hard, sharp slap that sent her reeling with shock and pain. She tumbled backward.
She turned and hurried to the back of the shop, straight for the manager's office. Her hands shook as she knocked on the door and then heard nothing before flinging it open. Her manager, Mr. Garvey, looked up from his desk-eyebrows raised.
"What's going on, Lana?" he asked, seemingly more irritable than concerned.
"Mr. Dennison just harassed me out there. He… he hit me when I tried to push him away. He crossed a line, and I need you to do something about it."
Mr. Garvey sighed, rubbing his head as if she were giving him a headache. "Lana, look. you know Dennison owns this place. He's got his hands in every property in the area. We upset him, we risked the whole business. Just drop it, and get back to work.".
Lana's eyes widened with her lips parting in shock. "You're not going to do anything about this?" she asked in a whisper. "You're just going to let him treat your employees like that?
Mr. Garvey shrugged, his eyes looking down at the papers on his desk. "This is a business, Lana. You don't want to make waves with someone as powerful as Dennison. Just. go back to your shift and let it blow over.
Her cheeks flared with shame and anger as she stared at him, she felt betrayed. This was a man who'd always treated her with courtesy, whom she'd felt respected, and valued her hard work.
But now that she was met with real danger, real disrespect, he was more concerned about solving things over with Dennison than standing up for her.
"I don't believe this," she whispered, with anger. She stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind her, and walked to the front of the shop. Lana was frustrated and hurt. She sank down into a chair in the lobby with her head in her hands, trying to steady herself.
It was the look on Mr. Garvey's face that bothered her the most, that absolute disinterest in his eyes.
She had thought he was one of those persons she could rely on, but now. She knew at every turn he would take the easy way, he would take convenience over doing the right thing. How often had he stood aside and allowed things like this to happen in order to keep Dennison happy?
How many others were there that had suffered for the sake of his cowardice?
She sat, her mind wandering back to Nikolai Sinclair and the offer he'd made-to be his children's personal nanny, to work for someone who apparently saw value enough in her that he asked for her himself. Her talk with Mabel then came back, the words resounding in her head.
“This could be your chance.”
The more she thought about it, the clearer it became: she deserved better than this. She deserved to work somewhere she was respected, not someplace where she was expected to put up with humiliation and fear.
After a while, Lana got up, arranged her things. She couldn't just sit here anymore-not with this anger boiling inside her. She'd had enough for one day.
With every step she took home, her legs grew heavy. She was angry with Mr. Dennison, but angrier even with Mr. Garvey-the one she felt could have her back. Opening and closing fists so she would shake off some of the hurt, yet it didn't leave her side; it just lingered on.
She was emotionally drenched by the time she reached her apartment. She drew her phone out of her pocket , dropped her bag on the bed. She stood for a while reflecting before she collapsed on the bed.