Chapter 2

Lucas and I met at a convenience store.

I was working there part-time, and it was pouring rain that day.

He was trying to buy a pack of instant noodles, but he was one dollar short.

The people behind him were getting impatient, so I covered the difference for him.

After that, he started coming by all the time, sometimes for water, sometimes for instant noodles.

Later, he'd stay late to help me close up and move boxes and walk me through that pitch-black alley.

He told me his name was Lucas. He worked in the Quinn Administration Department, but his salary wasn't much. His family was in debt, so he kept working overtime, trying to get by. He hoped to build a life for himself in Kingsport.

When he told me all this, he was wearing a plain white T-shirt, holding a discounted rice ball from the convenience store. He seemed so genuine.

I was someone who fought my way out of tough times, like him.

My grandma raised me.

I got through college on student loans and part-time jobs.

No one knows better than me. When you didn't have an umbrella, you had to run harder than anyone else.

When Lucas was pursuing me, he really knew how to take care of me.

When I worked late at my part-time job, he'd be waiting for me at the door.

When my stomach hurt, he'd crouch in our cramped little kitchen in that rented apartment, making me oatmeal.

I was living in Old Town to save on rent. He moved in with me, cramming himself into that tiny apartment, less than two hundred square feet.

He said, "Claire, things will get better for us."

I believed him.

It was Lucas who first encouraged me to apply for the Chief Assistant opening at Quinn Corp.

That night, our apartment lost power, so we turned on the rechargeable lamp.

He handed me the job posting. "You should give it a shot. You're so capable. No worse than anyone else."

For those words, I spent three months hustling, visiting twenty-seven senior communities. I interviewed elderly residents, taking notes on what they really needed, like help with meals and doctors making house calls.

Lucas stayed up with me, sorting through all the interview tapes and helping me revise the proposal until three in the morning.

He stared at the proposal, his gaze deep and unreadable. Then he spoke up, "If it turns out not to be this job, but some other position at Quinn Corp, would you still want it?"

Back then, I thought he was worried I'd end up disappointed.

"Claire, this proposal is worth a lot," he said.

Back then, I thought he was complimenting me. Turns out, he was warning me.

When I got back to our apartment that night, Lucas had already made dinner. He'd made beef stew with carrots and potatoes, sautéed green beans, and a bowl of creamy tomato soup.

He'd changed into his old loungewear, the cuffs faded from so many washes, acting as if nothing had happened. "Come on, eat first. You definitely didn't have a proper lunch."

I stood motionless in the doorway. "Who is Evelyn?"

He stopped, his hand still on the bowl. "Someone my family set me up with."

"The one you're supposed to marry?"

"That's what the elders want."

"And you didn't say no?"

He fell silent for a moment. "It's not as simple as you think."

I set my bag down. "What did you do with my proposal?"

The soup in the pot was bubbling away, steam curling up from the surface.

Lucas looked up at me. "Once you submit your interview materials, the company has the right to keep them."

I looked at him. "So she took it and used it?"

"Claire, that project was already in Quinn Corp's plans. Your proposal was kind of similar."

Kind of similar.

My feet were rubbed raw from running around those communities, and he stayed up with me until three in the morning, helping me tweak it again and again. After everything, it was reduced to "similar."

Suddenly, I felt exhausted. "Lucas, you were the one who pushed me to apply for the Quinn Corp job. So why did you keep me out of the Executive Office in the end?"

He set the bowl down and came to me. "That job puts you in my orbit. My dad would dig into your past, and the Winters Family would watch your every move. You have no backing. Getting dragged in will hurt you."

I let out a laugh. "So you hurt me yourself before anyone else could, is that it?"

He frowned. "Claire, I'm only trying to keep you safe. You don't have to push yourself so hard. I can set you up with something way easier."

I looked at him. "I didn't spend three months busting my ass so you could hand me some cushy job."

His face darkened. "Do you really have to make such a big deal out of this? It's a job, Claire."

It was a job.

I fought for this chance with my grades and my proposal, riding the bus for an hour and a half to get here. But to him, it was nothing more than a job.

I didn't eat that meal.

That night, I crashed on the living room couch, and from the balcony, I could hear Lucas's lowered voice. "She won't keep kicking up a fuss for long.

"Give the heads-up to our partners and recruiters. Make sure she doesn't get anywhere near the important roles.

"Once she's cooled off, I'll sort things out for her."

I lay there, staring up at the half-broken ceiling light, flickering on and off above me, like the sincerity I thought I'd held onto.